Harry Potter stood in the doorway of the Great Hall, flanked by his closest friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley. The Hall was alive with twinkling candles and a thousand stars sparkled through the enchanted ceiling, several of the resident ghosts floated about the room but it was otherwise empty. The long tables had been set with the golden plates and goblets used during the start-of-term Welcoming Feast. The staff table was similarly set, with crystal goblets and golden plates, the Head Master’s high-backed golden gilded chair sat waiting for the powerful wizard who guided and protected the school to arrive.

Dressed in their school uniforms and robes, the teenagers hesitated at the threshold. Harry was particularly nervous about the returning students, who even now were on the Hogwarts Express steaming into Hogsmeade Station. His summer vacation, all of theirs really, had been eventful. From the secret training sessions to improve his growing abilities, to learning to Apparate, to discovering the ability to communicate with his dead godfather had occupied the holidays for Harry and his friends. It seemed as if they had spent the summer struggling to stay one step ahead of the Dark Lord and his increasingly blatant activities, his obsession with killing Harry.

Just yesterday morning, Voldemort had attempted to breech the defenses of Hogwarts itself, trying to kill both Severus Snape and Harry. Harry had managed to save Snape from the killing curse that the Dark Lord had aimed at his Death Eater-turned-spy. He had not been so fortunate, and had been hit in the back by the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort flung as him as Harry grasped the scarlet-gold tail feathers of the Phoenix who appeared to rescue him. As Fawkes had lifted them toward the Gryffindor Tower, Harry had carried an unconscious Snape, hanging suspended from the grip Harry had on his ankle, and the killing curse had hit him.

What had been a crushing blow to those who cared about him and were watching at that moment, turned in to joyful disbelief as Harry regained consciousness in the Gryffindor common room with minor scorch marks on his head and back. How he had survived, again, a battle with Voldemort was less a concern to Harry than the rage of the Potions Master when he learn that Harry had held him upside down, his robes falling to his nose, and his silken underwear displayed for all to see. Harry was still nervously waiting for that blow to hit.

Soft, warm fingers slid into his cold hand, and Harry looked down in to the bright brown eyes of Ginny Weasley. She smiled up at him, he felt a tug at the corner of his mouth as he tried to smile back, and settled for squeezing her hand gently. Dumbledore had warned them that among the returning students would be those recruited by their own parents as spies for Voldemort. Certain names had instantly sprung to mind: Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Harry wondered how many others there might be within the ranks of the Slytherins.

“Alright, Harry?” Remus Lupin quiet voice came from behind him. Harry turned his head and a smile lit his face at the sight of his new godfather and the tall aged wizard beside him. Albus Dumbledore was resplendent in sapphire blue robes, richly embroidered with golden crescent moons, Remus clad in new, but simple robes of soft charcoal gray.

“Yeah, just a little nervous, I guess.” Harry said, as Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You will be fine, Harry. As far as I know, word has not leaked out about what happened Saturday morning, so anyone with that knowledge could only have gotten it from Lord Voldemort.” Dumbledore told him, with a reassuring pat on his arm. “Now, why don’t you all go wait at the top of the stairs, as I believe the first carriages are coming up now.”

They moved towards the Entrance Hall and stood at the top of the great stone stairs. Harry could see that Dumbledore was right as usual, and he could see the first thestral pulling a carriage up to the bottom of the steps. Ginny squeezed his hand and looking down Harry saw her jerk her head toward Ron and Hermione. Looking over, Harry grinned when he saw that Hermione was holding Ron’s hand, and Ron had a strange, wooly look on his face. He looked back down at Ginny, who just giggled, and smiled.

“Harry! Ginny! Ron! Hermione!” Neville Longbottom ran up the stairs to greet them all enthusiastically, followed by a steady stream of fellow sixth year students, Gryffindor and other houses. The sheer numbers of group soon carried them in the Great Hall and they all found themselves seated at the long house table surrounded by all of their returning friends.

As the large hall filled with returning students, the noise level grew to deafening proportions. Many Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sixth and seventh year students greeted the Gryffindors with shouts of welcome. The Slytherins seemed to filter in last, Draco Malfoy at the head of the group, flanked by his hulking cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. He scanned the room with a sneering look of arrogance, his eyes stumbling when they came about Harry and his friends at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by returning members of the DA. Malfoy turned his back on the group and swept off to the Slytherin table on the other side of the room.

Harry glanced toward the staff table and was surprised to find that it had filled, with the exception of Professor McGonagall, who was with the first years. He saw that Remus was seated to the left side of the Headmaster and McGonagall’s empty seat to his right. Remus caught his eye and smiled, Harry happily returned it. Further down the table, Harry was startled to see Alastor Moody sitting beside Professor Snape. Snape was wearing a parody of smile, filled with triumph and superiority, his eye fixed on the Slytherin House table. Looking over, Harry caught sight of the pale, disbelieving face of Draco Malfoy staring back. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry that Draco had thought Snape was dead, told this by either his father or Voldemort.

“May I have your attention, please?” Professor McGonagall was saying, the Sorting hat and stool at the front of the room, a line of first years, pale and nervous, standing in front of the staff table.

Harry readily remembered his first year, and how scared he was, as he stood in front of the whole school, terrified that he would fail whatever task was in front of him. One of the first year boys at the end of the line looked like he was going to faint or vomit. Catching his eye, Harry smiled at him encouragingly and received a trembling smile in return.

A rip in the brim of the Sorting Hat opened and it began to sing:

When this school was built

By the wise founders four

Each had their own beliefs

On what students should learn more.

Give me those purebloods of cunning

Slytherin cried with pleasure;

Those of intelligence and cleverness

Said Ravenclaw, I treasure;

Those of brave heart and courage

I will take, said Gryffindor;

And good Hufflepuff said

The rest I will teach loyalty and more.

So I sort you, as I must

To fill the houses with living soul;

Divided by strengths you may be

But all parts of the greater whole.

The houses must unite, stand together

Or I fear, face a bitter toll.

And again I must warn you, quite

That the struggle has already begun;

Between those of darkness and light.

An attack on hallow halls thwarted,

Battlements unbreeched, and solid stood.

Uncommon allies standing together

For the common good.

Some have already been battle tested,

Making the choice between easy and right.

Tested and true, follow the one

That shines like a golden light.

Show to all in word and deed,

To treasure lives, love is strength

This is my warning all take heed,

For your strength comes from within,

Together we have might apart we splinter.

Now let the sorting begin.

There was silence in the Great Hall after the song was over, and then the whispers started, with many heads turned toward the Gryffindor table. Harry sat up straight, his head high, his eyes locked on the Sorting hat, and his cheeks flaming. He wasn’t sure whether anyone was going to figure out what happened from the song, but he was proud of what he’d done. Ginny’s hand slipped into his under the table reassuringly. Harry turned and looked down at her with a smile, and then met Ron and Hermione’s eyes across the table. They both grinned at him like the co-conspirators they were, and Harry grinned back Tugging Ginny a little closer, her hand tucked into his, Harry settled back to watch the sorting.

The long line of first years was sorted quickly into their respective houses, and Harry cheered as loud as the rest for each new Gryffindor. He smiled in greeting to those who passed him to dive into an empty seat of the table, knowing they just wanted to disappear from sight after been watched by the whole school. Finally, the stool and hat were whisked away and Professor McGonagall took her seat beside Dumbledore.

The Headmaster stood, and the room fell silent. He smiled out at them, spreading his arms as if embrace them all. “To all our newcomers: Welcome! To our returning students: Welcome Back! Now is the time to eat, not talk. Tuck in!”

With a wave of his hand, food appeared on all the tables, and for a long time, nothing was heard but the sound of cutlery on the golden plates. The ghosts flew in to the room from all angles, each of the house ghosts skimming over their tables, Sir Nicholas deMimsy-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost, settled between Dennis and Colin Creevy. He was dressed in a high collared shirt with a stiff ruff to hold his almost severed head up.

“Hello, Sir Nicholas!” Neville Longbottom greeted him enthusiastically.

Harry looked over at Neville, and was pleased to see a new, more confident air about him. “Hey, Neville! Did you get a new wand?” He called.

“Oh yes!” Neville nodded, reaching into his robes, and pulling out a gleaming new dark colored wand. “Isn’t it a beauty!”

“Yeah, Neville, that’s great!” Harry told him with a pang. Neville’s old wand, his father’s actually, had been snapped in two during the battle with the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries.

Desserts of every kind finished off the feast, and Harry found his eyelids drooping as he sat listening to Ron describe Fred and George’s Shoppe in Diagon Alley, with all the sweets and gadgets they had invented. He was waxing poetically about the Extendable Ears when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

Harry opened his eyes as the Headmaster stood waiting for the hall to quiet down.

“A few start of term notices: For the first year students and all returning students, the Forbidden Forest is a very dangerous place and off limits to all students, without exception.” Dumbledore cast an eye toward the Gryffindor table where Ron, Hermione and Harry sniggered softly. “Also. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, asked me to remind you that there is to be no magic performed in the corridors between classes, and for an extensive list of the other items banned in the corridors, please see the notice fastened on his office door.”

“We are pleased to have this year two Divination teachers, Professors Trelawney and Firenze sharing the duties. Professor Alastor Moody is filling the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, with assistance from Professor Remus Lupin, who is also serving as a special assistant to me.” Dumbledore’s clear blue eyes swept over the students sitting quietly at the tables. “I feel I must also emphasis what the Sorting Hat said, er, sang, earlier. Each of you has been sorted in to one of the four houses based on your strengths: Slytherin for cunning; Ravenclaw for cleverness; Hufflepuff for loyalty; and Gryffindor for courage. Build on your strengths and rely on those of your fellow students, to strengthen yourselves and Hogwarts.”

“Now that we have finished our splendid feast, it is time to go to bed, so we are all ready for classes bright and early tomorrow.” Dumbledore said, dismissing the students.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny jumped up with hurried goodbyes, and went to collect the first years. Harry watched as the hall emptied, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

“Alright, Harry.” Remus Lupin asked, his alert gray eyes searching his face as Harry looked up.

“I’m fine, Remus, just don’t want to get trampled.” Harry stood and walked with him towards the Entrance Hall.

“You truly feel alright, though, Harry? You are still a bit peaky looking.” Remus asked, as they climbed the marble stairs.

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all.” Harry looked around as students passed them on both sides. “Strange to have all these people around, isn’t it?”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, the castle feels crowded tonight, after all these weeks of having it to ourselves.” Remus stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady, wishing Harry a good night as he disappeared inside.

The common room was empty, and Harry continued up to the dormitory. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were happily chattering away, but Ron was still not there. Harry greeted the others and listened absently to the others as he got undressed and slid into bed. He took off his glasses, and left his hangings open on the side of his bed nearest Ron’s, but dropped immediately off to sleep.

It was an old nightmare that had him sitting straight up in bed, in a cold sweat with his chest heaving. The flash of green light and his parents screaming as Voldemort killed them fifteen years ago. Harry saw that Ron had come to bed and was snoring gently, as were his other dorm mates. Taking deep breathes, Harry cleared his mind, smoothed the walls in his brain, and tried to go back to sleep. He dozed fitfully off and on until morning, but never truly when back to sleep.

Finally Harry gave up trying, got up and dressed quietly. His head ached dully and his eyes were gritty with tiredness as he made his way down to the Great Hall. It seemed his appetite had gone the way of his sleep, but Harry sipped on orange juice, and tried to eat a piece of toast. The Hall slowly filled up around him, and he managed a smile when Ron and Hermione slid in on either side of him.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked immediately, helping herself to scrambled eggs and bacon.

“I didn’t sleep very well, that’s all,” Harry assured her.

Professor McGonagall walked up. “Class schedules, Potter here’s yours. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley.” She turned to leave, and walked into Ginny, who gave her a quick hug. “Ginny! Good morning, here is yours too.” A little pink in the cheeks, McGonagall moved down the table.

Ginny settled in across from Harry as they all looked at their schedules.

Harry scowled at the schedule in his hand. “Potions! I have to start my week with Potions first thing Monday morning, with Potions on Wednesday, and double Potions last thing on Friday afternoon! This N.E.W.T. level stuff may just kill me!”

Hermione grabbed his schedule. “Yes, but look at the rest of this, Harry, Charms, Transfigurations, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and look, 2 afternoons a week for ‘advanced training’! This is an easy schedule!”

Harry grabbed it back. “Well, what do your schedules look like?” He grumbled at her.

“Looks like I have about the same thing, Harry, except I have Herbalology and History of Magic those afternoons.” Ron answered him between bites of sausage.

“Me too, but I also have Arithmancy.” Hermione told him.

“Well, Mum always says that misery loves company.” Ron announced, gathering his things, and standing. “What are we waiting for?”

The only good thing about sixth year Potions was that there were only about a dozen students from all houses in the class. Unfortunately, one of them was Draco Malfoy, who sneered at them as Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked in.

“At least Crabbe and Goyle are too thick to be here.” Ron said under his breath, as they sat down.

Snape swept into the dungeon classroom with his usual black scowl and swish of robes. Harry couldn’t help but smile, the picture of Snape upside down flickered in his head.

“Something funny, Potter? Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape snarled as he glared down at Harry from his desk.

Harry gritted his teeth and kept his face expressionless. He could feel both Ron and Hermione’s silent anger, but kept his eyes firmly locked on the chest area of the black robed figure. Snape was not going to get a raise out of him.

“In my N.E.W.T. level potions classes, you will find that you have more freedom to advance at your own pace, learn as much,” Snape glared at Harry. “Or as little as you would like. You are in this class because you have met my requirements and have chosen a career path that necessitates knowledge in potion making. It is your choice what you make of this opportunity.” He swept the room with cold glittering eyes. “We will start with a refresher on antidote potions.” He waved his wand. “Instructions on the board, begin.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione worked in silence, having exchanged meaningful looks. They had not been sure what to expect of Snape after Harry had saved his life Saturday morning. It appeared that he had resumed his normal unfair, foul ways.

“Potter, it says shred those mandrake roots, not chop them. Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape sneered, as he swept past.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry shook his head fractionally, resolved not to give Snape the satisfaction. He bent his head over his work, carefully re-shredding the roots. Hearing Draco Malfoy sniggering at the front of the classroom did nothing to help Harry’s dark mood, but he was not going to give Snape the satisfaction of knowing he was angry.

The class turned out to be slow torture for Harry and his friends, with Snape taking a total of twenty-five points from Gryffindor. Harry was just glad to escape and make his way to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione before he lost his temper. They made their way out of the dungeons before both Ron and Hermione exploded in rage over Snape.

“I can’t believe that git!” Ron fumed. “Especially after what you did!”

“Why did you just sit there, Harry? Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione demanded.

Harry stopped in his steps, both his friends bumping into his back, almost knocking him over. “No! I don’t want to make it worse!” He looked at their flushed faces, and smiled. “I figure he just put it all together and knows about me flashing his underpants to everyone. I appreciate your feelings, but I think if I can just stick it out, he’ll get over it sooner or later.” He rubbed his pounding temple. “I just hope I survive.”

Hermione put a hand on his arm. “Your scar hurting?” She asked quietly, leaning into him, examining his pale face.

“No, just a regular old headache,” Harry said with a laugh, hoping to calm her fears. Turning her towards the stairs, they continued up the marble staircase.

Transfiguration was almost a party after Potions, with Professor McGonagall giving a similar speech about N.E.W.T. level classes. They spent their first class reviewing various switching spells and cross species transfiguration, as they were going to start learning human transfiguration. Harry was able to forget the dull pounding in his head for a while, as he got wrapped up in the lesson.

“I would like a foot long essay on the inherent dangers of human transfiguration, due next lesson.” Professor McGonagall told the class as she dismissed them. “Potter, Weasley, a word if you please.”

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders, and they walked up to McGonagall’s desk, Hermione at their heels. Professor McGonagall glared at them a moment, before her face softened into a smile. “Do you think between you, with Miss Granger’s help no doubt, that the two of you could manage to captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team?” She said gruffly, but with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, yes, Professor!” Hermione answered for them, as Ron’s mouth was hanging open and Harry was still trying to believe what he had heard.

Monday set the tone for the whole first week of classes. Potions lessons were pure torture, with Snape taking points from Harry at every opportunity, while the rest of his classes were fine. Homework assigned had been manageable so far. Harry had classes Monday and Wednesday afternoons with Remus and Professor Dumbledore, practicing Legilimency and advanced wandless magic. Once they had gotten over the shock of being made co-captains for the Quidditch team, Harry and Ron had gotten right to work on setting up team practices and tryouts for the two open chaser positions, although they felt Ginny was a shoo in for one of them.

Unfortunately, Harry had also been plagued by nightmares every night, over and over watching his parents, Cedric, and even Sirius, dying in a jet of green light. Unable to help, as if stuck in sand, Harry was forced to stand and watch, struggling in vain to save anyone. He continued to wake up with his chest heaving and head pounding, unable to get more than a couple hours of sleep a night. In an effort to avoid questions, Harry had been getting to breakfast very early, skipping lunch, and catching dinner late. He hadn’t seen Remus since their Wednesday afternoon class, and Hermione was getting increasingly worried about him.

Harry sat in double Potions on Friday afternoon, striving to keep his temper in check and just endure the last few minutes. Snape was in a mood and had already managed to take twenty points from Harry, who sat like a statue, looking straight ahead.

“Your assignment will be turned in next lesson. Everyone may go.” Snape said in a sneer. “Except you, Potter.”

A feeling of defeat washed over Harry as he packed his book, quill, and parchment into his bag. Standing beside his desk, waiting for the room to clear, Harry knew that he could not continue the term in this class, with Snape taking points from him every time he breathed wrong. His weary mind was not up to this, he thought, the sleepless nights had taken their toll. He heard the door to the dungeon classroom close.

“Well, Potter, if you believed that your actions on my behave last Saturday would change things, I hope I have proven you wrong. I will not be obligated to you!” Snape snarled coldly, his dark eyes glittering in his sallow face, as he stepped in front of Harry.

Obligated? It suddenly dawn on Harry what Snape had been going on about all week, and it infuriated him. Too exhausted and drained to care, Harry dropped his bag and took a step toward Snape, their noses almost touching.

“You think you’re obligated to me? And here I thought you’d found out about your underpants showing!” Harry raged at Snape, his emerald eyes shooting green fire into Snape’s eyes. “Don’t give it another moments thought, Professor, you owe me nothing! It certainly wasn’t anything personal!”

“What are you talking about, Potter?” Snape hurled back at him.

“It was just my hero thing, as you told Voldemort! My bloody stupid saving people thing as Hermione calls it! Seems I have this inability to stop myself from saving someone whose life is in danger! Started with Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, the little girl at the bottom of the lake during the second task, and even bringing Cedric’s body back because his…his ghost asked me to!” Harry was screaming now, his face white. “That stupid impulse I have that led 5 of my friends to the Department of Mysteries last June where they were all hurt; that effing thing I have that brought my godfather to his death.”

Harry was horrified to hear his voice break on that last word, his eyes still burning into Snape’s had filled with tears. He torn his gaze away and flung his bag over his shoulder, trying to affect a dramatic exit before Snape could kill him or he broke down in front of the greasy git.

Even that was taken from him, as the scar on Harry’s forehead suddenly seared with pain and agony exploded in his mind. He was unprepared, his walls had dropped in his rage, and the pain that seared through him was incredible. No longer aware of his surrounding, Harry fought to slam the walls back into place, shield his mind from the flames that felt like they were engulfing his brain.

As if from a long distance, a voice cried, “Potter! Potter!” Firm hands eased him to the stone floor. “Harry? Can you hear me?” The voice was roughly gentle, familiar, yet unfamiliar, but Harry latched on to the sound. Clutching at his head, struggling to get a breath, he thrashed around as the pain became unbearable, until he was hauled up and held firmly. Swirling blackness threatened to engulf him, and Harry lost track of time, until he managed to get the walls in place, smooth them, and reached for his wrist, pressing the watch.

The trill of Phoenix song sounded, comforting and calming, lessening the pain. His stomach still churned, and his head pounded painfully, but he was able to open his eyes. Harry startled to find Snape, sitting on the floor, supporting him, cushioning his head from the hard stone. Another wave of pain hit him, and his stomach heaved, Harry tried to push Snape away, but he didn’t budge, gently turning Harry on his side. The classroom door banged open, and Remus entered at a run, with Dumbledore at his heals.

“Severus, what happened?” Dumbledore asked, as he knelt by Harry.

The soothing cool fingers helped the white-hot searing of his scar, and Remus moved to cradle Harry’s head, as Snape stood up.

“I am not sure, Headmaster, but it may be because I provoked…”

“He knows, Professor…” Harry choked out, diverting Dumbledore’s attention.

“What does he know, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly, leaning down.

“Voldemort just found out from Malfoy that Snape was still alive, and he was really angry.” Harry struggled to get up.

“Sit, Harry!” Remus told him sternly, a firm hand on his shoulder.

Harry sat, his head bowed with his Headmaster’s hand still resting on his forehead. All he wanted to do was leave, to get away from the dungeon. It was bad enough that he’d lost control and screamed at Snape, who had probably taken a hundred points off Gryffindor, but then to have collapsed at his feet just completed his humiliation.

He looked at Remus pleadingly. “Please, I just want to leave.” Harry whispered.

A look shot between Lupin and Dumbledore, and together they helped Harry up into a chair. The movement made Harry’s head spin and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep steadying breathes, willing his churning stomach to settle down.

“I am not sure that you are ready to walk yet, Harry, and I doubt you want to be seen in this corridor under anything less than your own power.” Dumbledore said sagely.

Harry slumped further back in his chair, the bitter taste of frustration in his mouth. He drew in to himself, checking and smoothing the walls in his mind, willing the lingering pain and shakiness to subside. Hating the weakness that made his legs still quiver, he tried to steel himself.

“Harry, when was the last time you actually slept?” Remus asked quietly, and Harry felt his godfather’s hand on his chin, lifting it. “Look at me, Harry.”

Harry opened his eyes, alight with pleading. “Do we have to do this here, Remus? Can’t we just go?” He met Remus’ soft gray eyes, surprised to see anger there.

“No, Harry, please answer the question?” Dumbledore’s voice was unusually stern.

Harry looked up into the bright blue eyes. “Since last Saturday night, Professor, I’ve been having nightmares, just regular nightmares with flashes of green light.”

“Your parents, Harry?” He asked, and Harry nodded. “Cedric, too?” Harry nodded again. “And, Sirius?” Harry dropped his eyes, and nodded jerkily; just wishing he could sink out of sight.

“Harry, less than a week ago you survived a curse that has killed everyone else it was ever cast at. For the second time in your life, it did not kill you, but it did affect you. Madame Pomfrey warned me of this, but I wanted you to be able to start the term without being singled out, yet again. I now see that I was wrong, and should have confined you to the hospital wing until you were better, instead of letting you struggle through the week.” Dumbledore said, a touch of apology in his voice.

Harry’s head snapped up, and he stood up before anyone could stop him, his head spinning in protest. “No, Professor, you did the right thing! It’s my own fault I got hit again, and I’m fine except for the not sleeping. Please don’t put me in the hospital wing, I feel stupid enough that I am too weak to fight off these scar attack things! I’ll go right to bed now, I promise!” The over-bright green eyes pleaded with the Headmaster.

“This one hit you harder than usual, Harry, why?” Dumbledore asked his softly, his eyes looking into Harry’s.

Harry sighed. “Because I got mad at Professor Snape and dropped my guard. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Actually, Headmaster, I am afraid I must take the blame for that.” Severus Snape spoke in a quiet voice, but his eyes were on Harry as he stepped forward. “I misinterpreted Potter’s exhaustion and believed he felt he was able to now attend my classes without putting in any effort, as I owed him my life.”

Dumbledore studied the two of them. “You mistook Harry’s exhaustion as arrogance, Severus?”

“Yes, Headmaster.” The Potions Master answered, the voice almost unrecognized without the sneer in it. Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore, but could feel Snape’s scrutiny.

“And, of course, you have never truly witnessed what happens to Harry, what he suffers when Lord Voldemort’s emotions are inflamed, have you, Severus?”

“No, sir, just the one time in your office last week, Headmaster.” Snape said softly.

Harry turned, bending down to grab his book bag sitting on the floor next to Snape, the need to escape overwhelming. On top of everything else, the last thing in the world he wanted was pity from Severus Snape. The classroom spun again, firm hands caught and steadied him, and Harry stiffened, waiting for Snape to push him away. It did not come. Slowly, he raised his head and looked into the dark unreadable eyes. He wasn’t sure what he saw there, but at least the pity he feared was not present.

“Perhaps, Severus, both of you needs to reevaluate your opinions of each other.” Dumbledore said quietly, as Remus moved forward to take Harry’s arm and start towards the classroom door.

“Potter, how many points have I taken from you this week?” Snape asked him.

Remus stopped, and looked down at Harry, who met his eyes unflinching. “Eighty, sir.”

“Eighty points! Merlin’s beard, Severus, what were you thinking?” Remus blazed, looking back at Snape.

“Remus, why don’t you take Harry on up to Gryffindor Tower, I will be along in a moment.” Dumbledore said quietly.

Remus took the book bag from Harry as they stepped out into the deserted corridor, keeping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. Harry could see that his godfather was angrier than he’d ever seen him.

“Remus?” Harry looked at him. “It’s okay, really, it was just a hard week.”

They had just walked up the marble staircase outside the Great Hall, where Harry could hear the clatter of cutlery and murmur of voices. Remus stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward Harry.

“I can allow a lot of things, Harry, make excuses for old grudges and perceived wrongs, but I have no stomach for a teacher who abuses his position!” The last came out in a low voice through clenched teeth. “Especially when he singles out one student for that abuse!”

“I’m sorry, Remus.” Harry said, putting his hand on the other man’s arm.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You don’t have anything to be sorry for!” Remus told him.

“I’m sorry you’re so upset, I shouldn’t have yelled at Snape, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry that I dropped my guard. It’s my own fault, Remus.” Harry said as he started up the staircase again. Remus followed him silently up to the tower and in to the deserted common room.

When Harry stopped, Remus waved him on up the dormitory stairs. Harry signed and trudged upstairs. He sat down on the edge of his four-poster, his head throbbing again. He felt Remus sit down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“I guess I was also upset that you didn’t tell me you were having nightmares, Harry.”

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, and looked at his godfather with a crooked smile. “I was embarrassed that I was having nightmares like a little kid, Remus, but I should have told you. I just thought they would go way, is all.” He looked up, his bright green eyes troubled. “I, um, I really had a go at Snape, probably earned every one of those eighty points, but he told me that he wasn’t going to be obligated to me. Why does he hate me so much, Remus?”

“I am beginning to wonder that myself, Harry. I was surprised though, when we came in to the dungeon, to find him sitting on the floor holding on to you so you didn’t hurt yourself.” Remus told him, softy. “I ‘m not sure what to make of the man, either.”

Harry undressed and climbed into his pajamas, and got into bed while Remus watched. The dormitory door open and Professor Dumbledore walked in, carrying a tray food.

“Ah, very good, Harry, you are already in bed.” He set the tray across Harry’s knees and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your friend Dobby sent this up for you, he thought you would like it.”

Harry picked up the spoon and took a bite, more to please the Professor that anything, and found that it tasted very good. He took another bite.

“That’s better, I do believe you’ve missed a few meals this week, too. Can’t have you falling off your broom tomorrow during Quidditch practice, can we?” Dumbledore smiled at him. “I have sent for Madame Pomfrey, Harry, and I would like her to check you over. She is also going to bring you a potion that will help you sleep.”

“Professor, how many points did Professor Snape take off Gryffindor because I yelled at him?” Harry asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“One hundred points” Harry’s head came up in horror. “To Gryffindor for having the courage to tell him off when it was justified.” Albus Dumbledore smiled at the look of astonishment on Harry’s face. “You must have made your point.”

“He said something about not being obligated to me, Professor.” Harry said uncomfortably. “I just told him he didn’t owe me anything, that it wasn’t anything personal, it was just that saving people thing I have.” Harry pushed the half eaten bowl away, his appetite gone again. A hand on his arm stopped him from pushing the tray away.

“Harry, do you know why you do that?” Dumbledore pinned Harry with a piercing blue gaze. “Love, Harry, the same love that filled your heart and repelled Voldemort in June; a pure love that fills you so full that it doesn’t matter who needs the help, or even if you like them or not.” A deep look of pride sparkled in the blue eyes. “Your mother’s legacy, I believe, this deep, enduring kind of pure love, and it is truly one of your greatest strengths.”

Dumbledore looked over Harry’s shoulder. “Ah, Poppy, there you are, with Harry’s the potion, no doubt.”

Saturday morning dawned clear and sunny, just a light breeze blowing across the pitch as Harry and Ron walked toward the Quidditch field, broomsticks over their shoulders. The team was to meet them in an hour and tryouts were to begin shortly after that. Harry and Ron mounted their brooms and kicked off hard. It felt wonderful to Harry, flying high, the wind whipping through his hair, and the sheer exhilaration made his laugh out loud.

Madame Pomfrey’s potion had knocked him out last night before dinner was even over, and Harry had slept for almost twelve uninterrupted hours. He felt rested and refreshed, the dull throb in his head gone. Although the nurse had told him he must come by the hospital wing every evening for a quick check and potion, until she was sure that he’d recovered from the effects of the curse. Harry didn’t want to go through another week of the nightmares.

The morning flew by as the team and the hopeful new members played Quidditch. Ginny was a wicked flyer and did indeed gain the position of chaser by a unanimous decision of the other team members. Natalie MacDonald, a surprisingly strong third year took the other chaser position. By early afternoon, Harry was surprised to look down into the stands and see them half full of students and staff watching as the team wrapped up their practice. Ron flew up beside him as Harry signaled to the rest of the team to land.

“My stomach says six hours of practice is enough for the first time, mate.”

Harry grinned at him and raced him to the ground.

The rest of the weekend was spent working on homework and Quidditch strategy in the common room. Hermione supervised both, as well as making sure that Remus drank his Wolfsbane Potion every day. Tuesday was the full moon, and Harry was determined to make sure everything went all right, with Remus spending the night curled up in his room as a wolf.

Harry approached the Potions classroom with apprehension Monday morning, flanked by Ron and Hermione. He had not seen Snape since the incident Friday, and was not sure what to expect. They seated themselves at their usual seats in the back of the room, and sat silently. Harry flinched as the Potions Master swept in, slamming the door behind him. Striding to his desk, Snape immediately began to lecture the class on healing potions, without so much as a look at Harry, who slowly let out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

The full moon passed peacefully that Tuesday night and Harry checked that Remus was sleeping peacefully in his chambers before going to classes Wednesday morning. He was sleeping better and Madame Pomfrey allowed him to start sleeping without her potion by that Friday. The weather started to get cooler and Hogarts settled into the new term.

Hermione’s birthday on the nineteenth of September brought a celebration after dinner that night in the Gryffindor common room, with sweets and a cake. She had opened presents that morning at breakfast and had been thrilled with the book on the study of Arithmancy that Harry had gotten for her, and went pink with pleasure over the delicate locket that Ron had given her. Harry had to hide a smile in his napkin, as she leaned over to kiss Ron on the check, who went as red as his hair. Ginny laughed so hard at the look on Ron’s face that Harry had to hold her on the seat.

September flew into October with lessons, homework, and Quidditch practice three times a week. The second week of classes, all the returning members of the DA were invited to the Room of Requirement, everyone including, much to Harry’s surprise, Cho Chang showed up. They settled on alternating classes every Tuesday or Thursday nights to accommodate Quidditch practices. Remus attended most of the DA sessions, mainly to assist and offer suggestions, making it clear that he was only there in a supporting role. Harry’s chest swelled with pride when he found out that every sixth year in the DA had earned an O on their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. the prior June.

The first game of the year would be Gryffindor verse Slytherin, and Harry was determined that they would win. Snape had not said a word to Harry since the incident at the start of term, but Harry had felt those dark eyes follow him across the Great Hall on numerous occasions. Remus and Dumbledore continued to teach Harry advanced magic, training him to fine tune and use his powers. Harry was glad that he had not suffered any major attacks, but had noticed an increase in how often his scar throbbed and ached, to the point that it was not unusually to go days without relief.

Professor Moody’s classes were lively, with frequent visits for the members of the Auror Squad in residence at the Shrieking Shack. The sixth years were refreshed on shielding and charms, with Harry frequently used by Moody to help demonstrate. When it was pointed out to Moody that every student in their class was a member of the DA, they progressed rapidly through defensive spells and charms, and clamored for more. Remus stepped in, and after a lecture on secrecy, Alastor Moody began to teach the class offensive spells and charms that corresponded with their DA practices.

Hermione scanned the Daily Prophet every morning over breakfast for news of Voldemort’s activities, but as October drew to a close, there still was no signs or news. Harry was uneasy, knowing that the frequent prickling in his scar indicated that the Dark Lord was actively plotting. The only thing he could be sure of was that Voldemort was no longer in Hogsmeade, or anywhere close to Hogwarts.

A notice had gone up on the board in the common room announcing the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term, would be the weekend before Halloween. Harry paid little attention to it, as he knew he would not be going. Ron grumbled when reminded that he, Hermione, and Ginny were also restricted from going. Feeling badly. Harry spoke with Remus, and then sent Hedwig to London with a post for Fred and George Weasley.

That Saturday dawned bright and warm for late October. Harry was up early and down at the Quidditch pitch by breakfast. Ron was sleeping in, and he, Hermione, and Ginny were meeting him before lunch. Kicking off from the ground, Harry flew fast around the field, executing several steep dives and rolling moves. On his fifth lap of the pitch, he saw Remus Lupin stood besides the field watching. With a grin, Harry streaked toward his godfather.

“Hi, Remus.”

“Good morning, Harry, where is Ron?’

“Having a lie-in, I think.” Harry told him as he dismounted from his Firebolt, and walked toward Remus.

“I don’t like you down here by yourself, Harry.” Remus said quietly, pinning Harry with a steely gray gaze.

Harry started guiltily. “I am sorry, Remus, I didn’t even think about it. I will make sure someone else is with me next time.”

Remus nodded, and they walked over to the stands and sat down. “You have everything you need for your plans this afternoon, Harry?”

“Yeah, thanks for all your help, Remus. Fred and George came through with a package of sweets and Dobby is helping me set up the room, including some lunch.”

Remus slung an arm around Harry’s shoulder, giving him a one-armed hug. “What are you doing for Halloween, Harry?” He asked quietly.

Harry looked at his godfather quizzically. ‘Just going to the feast like always, why?” He searched the light gray eyes, puzzled, as he saw deep sorrow simmering in their depths.

“I had just thought this year you might not want to go.” Remus continued to watch him carefully.

“What do you mean, Remus? Why wouldn’t I want to go to the feast?”

A light of understanding filled the gray eyes and Remus looked away quickly. Harry watched him, thinking hard, trying to figure out why this Halloween might have special meaning to him. “Remus?”

His godfather sighed, and the gray eyes that met the emerald green were soft with sorrow and guilt. “I never considered that you didn’t know, Harry, and I am so sorry to be the one to tell you. Your parents were murdered on Halloween night. I thought you knew, Harry.”

Harry blinked, the corners of his eyes prickling, their brilliant green depths suddenly over bright. “No, I didn’t know. Hagrid told me how Voldemort killed them, but I never thought to ask when it happened.” He leaned into Lupin, needing the human contact. “I never knew.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. “And this makes it fifteen years, then?” Harry asked, the sounds of his mother’s screams that night playing in his mind.

“Yes, fifteen years, but it seems like yesterday.” Remus said, his arm tightening around Harry’s shoulders. “It was like time stood still that night. Losing Lily and James, Sirius arrested for murdering Wormtail and those muggles, and I didn’t even get to see you, Harry, before you were taken to the Dursleys. I lost everyone that I loved that night.” Remus took a deep breath. “I don’t even really remember much immediately after that, just drifting, like I was just biding my time. Then Albus Dumbledore tracked me down and asked me to come back to Hogwarts three years ago. I knew the timing was right, but wasn’t sure you were here until the incident on the train.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were at first?” Harry asked.

Remus smiled at him. “You didn’t recognize my name on the train, and Sirius had just escaped. I wanted to talk to Dumbledore before I said anything to you. Of course, he told me that you had never been told anything about your mum and dad, including their friends or history here at Hogwarts. He cautioned me about saying anything about Sirius as he thought you might be frightened if you knew he seemed to be after you, which it turns out you did anyway. Add to that the problems you had with the Dementors.”

Harry snorted. “The Dementors that caused me to relive my parents death over and over again.”

“Yes, I remember feeling as if I’d been punched in the chest when you told me that, Harry.”

“And then finding out that Sirius was my godfather, but had betrayed…” Harry’s voice trailed off, the thoughts of the false accusation painful to both of them.

Remus tightened his arm again, giving Harry a hug as they sat there in silence for several long minutes.

“You have me now, Remus, we have each other, as well as friends who love us.”

His godfather smiled and nodded, and together they made their way back up to the castle.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting in a corner of the common room with first and second years scattered about. Ron jumped up as Harry came in, almost tripping over a first year girl.

“Oy! Watch out midget! Harry!” Ron called across the room.

Harry walked over with a grin, reaching a hand out to Ginny, and pulling her to her feet. He turned and repeated the gesture with Hermione as well. Looping an arm around each, Harry guided them towards the portrait hole. “Come on, Ron.”

He lead them up to the Room of Requirement, and ushered them into a teashop with two tables set up inside, each table with two chairs. A cart stood beside them, with steaming tea and coffee, bottles of butterbeer, flagons of pumpkin juice, and a tray of sandwiches. A smaller cart held a pile of their favorite sweeties.

“I felt bad that you all were missing out on going to Hogsmeade because you were my friends, so. With a little help, I brought a bit of Hogsmeade to you.” Harry told them.

“Oh Harry, what a wonderful surprise!” Hermione hugged him and kissed his cheek. Turning she grabbed Ron’s hand and led him over to the table next to the tray of sandwiches.

“This is wonderful, Harry, and very thoughtful of you.” Ginny told him softly, reaching up and kissing him gently.

“You snogging Harry before lunch, Ginny?” Ron’s voice floated over to them. “Food first, kissing after!”

Ginny giggled and Harry laughed as they joined a red-faced Ron and Hermione. Dragging the chairs over, they all sat at one table and ate their lunch together, talking and laughing. The teenagers relaxed like they had not been able to do since before Harry’s battle with Voldemort, since summer vacation.

Hermione tactfully maneuvered Ron to the second table with their chairs, his back toward Harry and Ginny. Harry smiled into Ginny’s lively brown eyes and reached across the table to take Ginny’s hand. He was amazed at how easy and natural it seemed to be. Snapping his fingers, Harry summoned several Chocolate Frogs, and then had to let go of Ginny’s hand in order to catch them.

Ginny giggled as Harry handed her a frog, kissing her as she leaned across the table. Harry grinned as he recaptured her hand, not feeling the need to talk. He resisted the temptation to glance over at the next table where his best friends were, as he heard Hermione giggle softly. A warm feeling of contentment filled Harry, and for once, he felt at ease with the world.

They spent Sunday morning concentrating on homework, and then an afternoon Quidditch practice. Hermione had become the unofficial team manager, organizing practices, documenting new techniques, and generally keeping Ron and Harry on tract.

The conversation with Remus kept repeating in Harry’s mind, and after dinner he excused himself and headed to the library. It felt strange to Harry, as he scanned the shelves, to have to look up and read about your parents’ deaths. He stood there looking at titles, not knowing where to start, feeling a little lost.

A hand touched his arm. “Harry?” Hermione stood beside him. “Can I help you find what you need?”

Harry looked at her quizzically.

She smiled at him. “I just took Remus his Wolfsbane, and he told me what happened yesterday. I was coming to find a book to bring you, that might answer some of your questions.”

“Thanks, Hermione, I didn’t know where to start.” Harry said gratefully.

Hermione took down several thick books and Harry carried them to a table. The account of what happened to his parents was brief, relaying only that Voldemort had appeared at the house in Godric’s Hollow on Halloween evening of 1981, killed his dad and then his mum, before trying to kill him and disappearing. Harry knew from Hagrid that the house had been destroyed and he had rescued the baby Harry from the rubble.

“Not much here, is there?” Harry muttered.

“There were no other witnesses, except you, Harry. Most of what is here is just what they think happened.” Hermione whispered back, Madame Pince eyeing them from her desk.

“Yeah. Here, let’s get out of here.” Harry handed her some of the books, which they returned to the shelves.

Walking out, Harry led the way back to Gryffindor Tower, but headed towards Remus’ chambers instead of the common room. His godfather answered their knock at once and ushered them into the small sitting room with 2 armchairs placed in front of the merrily burning fire. Harry took the closest chair with Hermione perching on the arm, while Remus settled himself in the chair closest his bedroom.

“Alright, Harry?”

“Frustrated, but yeah, I’m okay.”

Lupin smiled at him. “Harry, you are going about this the wring way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember what we talked about yesterday morning? Close your eyes, Harry, and think. Add what you know with what you heard when the Dementors came near you, and think of some of those nightmares you’ve had where you see the flash of green light.” Remus leaned toward him. “Remember that you are the only eye witness to what happened that night.”

Harry leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Hermione rested her hand on his shoulder in silent support.

“Sirius said that he went that night to check on Wormtail, but he was gone, which made Sirius uneasy. So, Wormtail had already gone to tell Voldemort where we were. My dad saw him first and told my mum to take me and get away, and then Voldemort killed him. Voldemort caught my mum and he told her to step aside, that she didn’t need to die. She refused to, kept telling him no, and he killed her. Then Voldemort hit me with the killing curse, but it bounced off me leaving my scar, and back to him, I didn’t see what happened to Voldemort after that. Hagrid arrived sometime after that to find the house destroyed, my parents’ dead, and me alive. Sirius arrived on his flying motorcycle and wanted to take me, but Hagrid told him the Dumbledore said I had to live with my relatives. Sirius gave him the flying motorcycle to bring me to the Dursleys.”

There was silence for a moment and Hermione shifted restlessly. Harry opened his eyes.

“And I know that Sirius took care of …making arrangements for your mum and dad, tried to find me, but the utmost thing on his mind was to track down Wormtail, as he was the only one that knew Peter was the secret-keeper. You know what happened after that.” Remus told them softly.

“Where were you that night, Remus?”

Remus ran his hand through his hair. “In London, on a mission for the Order. I didn’t know about what happened until late that night.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “By the time I got to Godric’s Hollow, Sirius was gone, and all I could do was sit and look at what was left of your house.”

Harry could hear the pain in the older man’s voice, and looked up to see the tears shining in Hermione’s eyes. Remus leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, suddenly looking years older. He stared into the fire, watching the dancing flames.

“We both lost the only families that we had that night, Harry, and went through some rough years.” Remus looked at him, the gray eyes dark with sorrow. “We were able to have Sirius for awhile, when I never expected to see him again. And we have each other now, along with Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and our friends.”

Hermione moved over to the arm of Remus’ chair, and Harry followed, sitting on the other side, his hand resting on his godfather’s shoulder. They sat there in silence for several minutes, before Remus shooed them off to do homework.

The next several days pasted quickly, and on Wednesday afternoon, Harry went up to the Room of Requirement early, having skipped lunch. He settled in to the silk cushions that appeared for his special lessons, as well as the DA meetings and closed his eyes as he prepared to practice Occlumency. Smoothing the walls he had erected in his mind, he sealed it off, and filled his mind with happy, loving thoughts of his parents and Sirius.

“Harry.” The soft husky voice of Sirius Black unfurled in his mind.

Harry once again found himself in the circular stone chamber in the Department of Mysteries, on a raised stone dais set in the center of the middle, the ancient stone archway at one end, its tattered black veil stirring slightly to a non-existent breeze.

“Hello, Sirius.” He sat on the dais next to the archway.

“How are you? And Remus? And everybody else?”

“Harry smiled. “Everyone is just fine, Sirius, although it did take me a week to shake off the effects of that curse Voldemort hit me with, but I am fine now.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Harry. Dumbledore is holding up alright?”

“Yes, he and Remus are still teaching me advanced magical technique two afternoons a week, between my regular classes.”

“Should I ask how you’re doing in Potions?” There was a grin in his godfather’s voice.

Harry sniggered, as he knew Sirius was thinking of Snape hanging upside down in the Gryffindor common room. “We had some words the first week of term.” Harry said carefully.

“Oh, do tell?”

“Well, I had a bit of trouble sleeping that first week, Snape thought I was being arrogant when I was just exhausted, and, um, I sort of screamed at him.” Harry mumbled.

“You screamed at Severus Snape and lived?” Sirius’ voice was disbelieving.

“Yeah, then promptly collapsed at his feet when Voldemort had a temper tantrum. It was humiliating!” Harry grumbled.

Sirius laughed his sharp bark of a laugh, and Harry laugh in sheer delight just hearing it.

“Snape given you any problems since then, Harry?”

“No, he pretty much ignores me, which I don’t mind at all.”

“Good, the greasy git!”

Harry laughed again. “Oh, and Ron seems to have finally noticed Hermione.”

Sirius sniggered. “Have you noticed Ginny yet?”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry said enthusiastically, which caused Sirius to laugh again.

Harry sat on the cold stone, the smile fading from his face.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Sirius asked quietly.

“Today is Halloween, Sirius.” Harry said simply, and Sirius was silent. “Remus was talking about it the other day, and he didn’t realize that I didn’t know…”

“Oh Harry, I am sorry! I forgot how little you were told.”

“I know, that was what Remus said too, and its okay, Sirius, I never thought to ask either.”

“Well, I don’t think that Lilly and James would want you to still be mourning them fifteen years later, Harry.” Sirius said softly.

“Do you think they would like me, now I mean, um, the way I am…”

“Harry, your parents would be very proud of you, proud of what you have done, and never doubt that they have always loved you!” Sirius was firm. “And you are to go and have a good time at the feast, alright.”

“Yes, Sirius.” Harry smiled.

“And give Remus a hug for me, will you, as it sounds like he might need one.” Sirius’ voice faded.

Opening his eyes, Harry found both Remus and Professor Dumbledore standing over him. Smiling he stood and gave Remus a swift hug. “From Sirius, he thought you might need one today.”

Remus returned the hug with a smile and Harry turned to find Dumbledore watching him with that piercing gaze.

“We were talking about it being Halloween, Professor, about what happened fifteen years ago.” Harry met the light blue eyes, sadness lurking in his emerald depths.

“Remus mentioned your conversation to me, Harry, and it made me realize how little you know of your own heritage, and for that I am sorry.” Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Some day, I would like to visit Godric’s Hollow, sir.” Harry told him.

“You will, Harry, you will.” Dumbledore told him. “In the meantime, I expect you at the feast tonight, as I am sure your parents would have wanted.”

“Sirius said the same thing, and we will both be there.” Harry said as he met the eyes of his godfather.

Harry met Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in the Gryffindor common room after classes. Ginny and Hermione both gave him hugs.

“Alright, mate?” Ron asked as he took possession of Hermione’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Harry replied as he took hold of Ginny’s hand.

“Then let’s go.” Ron led the way down to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was aglow with floating candles and thousands of lit carved candles of every size, resting on every available surface. Live bats flitted about the room, some walls black with them. The enchanted ceiling showed thousands of diamond like stars sparkling in the cold moonless sky. Orange steamers hung behind the staff table, danced up and down of their own volition. Every ghost in the castle seemed to be there, gliding soundlessly over the tables.

Sliding in to their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked with pleasure at the decorations. Excited conversations could be heard all around them, but Harry was content to sit quietly, Ginny’s hand locked firmly in his. Hagrid clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder and would have knocked him flat if Ginny hadn’t held on to him. Remus walked by behind him, with a subdued smile. Professor McGonagall stopped behind Harry with a hand on his shoulder, and leaned over him.

“Alright, Harry?” She asked, her eyes bright.

Harry was reminded again that he wasn’t the only person who had loved his parents, and smiled at her. “Yes, thanks, Professor.”

McGonagall patted his shoulder and walked toward the staff table. Following her movement, Harry saw that Professor Dumbledore had just come in too. Everyone was there now, and as the Headmaster sat down, every manner of delicious food appeared. Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, roasted potatoes, runner beans, squash, breads, and flagons of milk and pumpkin juice.

For a long time, the only sounds were those of forks and knifes hitting the golden plates, and the rattle of serving dishes. As dinner was finished, great puddings of every kind appeared, along with pumpkin pasties and pumpkin pies. Harry ate as mush as he could stomach, and felt himself under the scrutiny of several pairs of eyes, the closest pair belonging to Hermione. Pushing his plate away, Harry ignored her stern gaze, and was content to watch Ron attack a treacle tart.

A throb of pain shot through the lightening bolt scar and a shiver of apprehension ran down Harry’s spine. He shot a look at the top table, but Remus was in conversation with the Headmaster. Another searing jolt brought Harry to his feet, and he did not fancy giving the entire student body a demonstration of what his scar could do to him. Ginny stood with him, and Harry grabbed her hand. Leaning towards his friends, Harry mouthed, “scar” at Hermione and headed towards the door with Ginny at his side.

As they stepped into the Entrance Hall, Harry stopped as the pain seared stronger through his head. Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand, he ran with Ginny up the marble staircase. The pain continued to increase, and by the time they had made it to the first floor landing, Harry found himself leaning on Ginny. Trusting her to lead him in the right direction, Harry focused on sealing his mind. They heard the great oak entry door open, and looking back, Harry could see Kingsley Shacklebolt hurry across the floor towards the Great Hall.

As Kingsley disappeared inside, Remus sprinted up the stairs. “Harry!”

A lightening bolt of pain split his head as Remus grabbed him, and everything went black. High-pitched cold maniacal laughter echoed through his mind, punctuated by flashed of green light and the shape of a skull with a snake for a tongue. The mad laughter continued as Harry felt himself shaken hard.

“Harry! Stop!”

Harry tried to focus on Remus’ voice, the insane laughter dying as he realized it was coming from him. Sickened by the realization, his stomach heaved, and he turned his head, trying to turn away. He could feel himself held protectively, an arm firmly around his chest, and Harry rubbed viciously at his forehead with the heels of both hands.

“It’s alright, Harry, calm down. We’re in the hospital wing, and no one else is here.”

The calm, steady voice of his godfather washed over him, and Harry took several deep breaths. His head still pounded, his scar continued to sear white-hot, his stomach churning.

“Harry!” The terror in Hermione’s voice caught at him as he heard running footsteps. “Remus, is he all right?”

Long cool fingers nudged Harry’s hands away from his forehead, laying across his scar and soothing the fire. Harry forced his eyes open and met the concerned blue eyes peering at him over the top of gold-rimmed half-moon spectacles.

“Dark Mark…they shot the Dark Mark…up over where my parents died, and in London…”

“Also, over Hogsmeade, Harry.” Dumbledore told him grimly. “Kingsley just told me.”

“But why?” Harry asked, taking in the pale, shaken faces of his friends, leaning back into Remus’ supporting embrace.

“A warning, I believe, to both the wizarding and the muggle worlds.” Dumbledore told them quietly. “It is also Voldemort way of putting fear into people, because he has always thrived on that power emotion. This is the start of his new plan, the start of the campaign of fear.”

“What are we going to do, Professor?” Ron asked, an arm looped each around his sister and Hermione.

“We are going to do nothing, Ron, as acknowledging this would be an admission of our fear, and we have already proven that Lord Voldemort can not defeat us here. Hogwarts is safe, but we will have to be watchful, as tonight may have been a signal to all loyal follower to begin that campaign of terror.” Albus Dumbledore looked at them all, his face serious. “I know that you will watch out for each other, and you may pass this information on to the members of the DA, but I do not want the other students to know.”

“Yes, sir.” Ron murmured for all of them.

Harry lay awake for a long time that night in his four-poster with the hangings shut, staring into the dark.

The first Saturday of November, dawned gray and threatening, a hint of snow in the bite of the breeze. Ron and Harry had sworn that they were not going to be like Oliver Wood before a game, and instead tried to keep the locker room chat before the game upbeat. They took the field to a roar of the crowd, and the amplified voice of Dean Thomas, who had taken over for after Lee Jordan graduated.

“And the Gryffindor team takes to the air! Co-Captains Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, seeker and keeper respectively; Ginny Weasley, Katie Bell, and Natalie MacDonald, chasers; and beaters, Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke!”

The Slytherins were already in the air, and Madame Hooch blew her whistle after releasing the bludgers and snitch, the quaffle in her hand. She mounted her broom and threw the red ball into play as she took off from the ground.

Harry sailed high over the pitch, watching the play beneath him as he scanned for the glint of gold. The quaffle passed through The Slytherins hands, before Ron blocked their first attempt at a goal and Ginny took it for Gryffindor.

“Weasley passes the quaffle to MacDonald, who is slammed by Slytherin captain Malfoy and drops it. But Bell recovers it and GRYFFINDOR SCORES!!!” Dean was yelling. “Slytherin in possession. Montague takes the quaffle, passing to Warrington, who passed to Baddock, who passes back to Montague…they approach the goal…Weasley dodges a bludger hit by Crabbe…Montague makes the goal for Slytherin.”

Harry soared overhead, as the quaffle went back and forth, searching for the snitch. Malfoy continued to hover in the midst of the game, slamming into various Gryffindor players. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be doing their best to slam bludgers into Ron or Ginny, whether they had the quaffle or not, clearing intent on hurting. Harry stayed well away from them, concentrating his energies on searching for the snitch. Scoring went back and forth, the Slytherins striking out at Gryffindor players at every opportunity.

Thirty minutes into the game, the score stood at Slytherin 70 and Gryffindor 60, and finally, Harry saw a flash of gold at the base of the Slytherin middle goal post. Taking his Firebolt into a steep angle dive, Harry hurtled toward the ground. The snitch darted up in to the air and off towards the Gryffindor end of the pitch as Malfoy joined the chase, and the crowd erupted. Tuning out the noise, Harry focused on the tiny gold ball as it zipped down the field about fifteen feet off the ground. Malfoy pulled level with Harry but was unable to pass him, and with his left hand started punching at Harry. Dropping below Malfoy, Harry leaned into his broom and gained a precious broom length on the Slytherin. The snitch zigzagged up and then right, with Harry in hot pursuit, Malfoy struggling to get ahead of him. Gripping the Firebolt with his left hand, Harry flattened himself on his broom, and reaching as far as he could, snagged the snitch.

Sitting up, Harry held his right hand up in triumph, grinning ear to ear, still twelve feet off the ground. Above the roar of the crowd, he heard a familiar voice scream his name, and puzzled, turned his head to the left toward the stands, his eyes finding Snape who was on his feet. Just then, the world exploded in a rainbow of agony and everything went black.

The pain in his head was incredible, the side of his face and neck felt stiff. It was too much work to open his eyes, and he felt like he was drifting in a fog. Voices penetrated the edge of his consciousness.

“Any change?”

“No, he’s still unconscious.” The soft voice was slightly hoarse. “I sincerely hope that you are going to do something about Crabbe, you know that was a blatant attack.”

“Yes, I agree, and he has been removed from the team. Malfoy and Goyle have been warned that any similar actions will be dealt with severely.”

“Any idea as to whether Crabbe was put up to this or not, Severus?”

“The Headmaster is under the impression that the three of them were sent back to Hogwarts with instructions to hurt Potter any way they could. The appearance of the Dark Mark may have been the signal to start.”

“What excuse did Crabbe give?”

“He said he had only wanted to scare Potter, to teach him a lesson, as he was such a spoiled…”

“Spoiled, Harry?” The slightly hoarse voice sputtered. “The boy who was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs for 10 years, lucky to get scraps to eat, spoiled? The boy who has no memory of ever being held or hugged or kissed by anyone in his life, nor ever having had a birthday or Christmas present, before coming to Hogwarts, SPOILED!”

“Remus! Calm yourself!”

Harry frown at the agitation in his godfather’s voice, but was comforted as he heard Dumbledore’s calm tones. The fog in his head made it hard to think, he knew they were talking about him but couldn’t grasp why.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I was just shocked I guess. Severus, have you any idea what Harry’s life was like growing up?”

“I had imagined that he was cosseted and coddled, what with the Potter wealth and his fame.”

“You could not be further from the truth, Severus. He was an indentured servant, taken grudgingly by his mother’s relatives, told his parents had died in a car crash, given hand-me-down clothes, and used as a punching bag by his cousin. And that is just what little he has told Ron and Hermione. He didn’t even know he was a wizard until Hagrid found him on his eleventh birthday!”

“Severus, I thought you had found this out when you gave Harry Occlumency lessons last June.”

“No, Headmaster, he never explained the memories I witnessed, I assumed they were his worst memories, those of being bullied by his cousin.”

Harry decided he didn’t want anyone talking about him like he wasn’t there, and tried to force his eyes open, but they didn’t want to cooperate. He lifted his hand towards the voices, knowing his godfather was close.

“Rem…” His throat wasn’t cooperating either, it seemed.

His hand was grasped firmly and he felt the bed give by his leg. “Harry?” Remus’ voice was soft and gentle. “How do you feel?”

“What…hap…” Harry’s throat was dry and scratchy, and another set of hands gently held a goblet to his lips, careful not to move his head.

“Take a sip, Harry, you’ll feel better.”

Harry obediently took a mouthful of liquid and swallowed. Cool water slid down his throat. “What happened?” He asked, managing to open his eyes a slit. He could see shadows, the glow of a torch flickering somewhere, and the blurry outline of his godfather. The pounding in his head became more pronounced as he tried to turn toward the shape he knew was Professor Dumbledore standing beside the bed. A third dark figure stood near the foot of the bed.

“It’s alright, son, don’t try to move.” He felt Remus lean over his legs, bracing his hand along Harry’s hip. “You were hit in the head by a late bludger. Do you remember the game?”

Harry tried to think around the throbbing that seemed to be concentrated along the right side of his head. He felt the cool, long fingers of his Headmaster brush his forehead, and tried to smile. “I remember catching the snitch, and we won the game. And then…” He struggled to remember, his eyes trying to focus on his godfather’s pale face.

“After you caught the snitch, a bludger hit you in the head before you could land. Luckily, you turned your head at the last minute and took a glancing blow instead of a solid impact.” Remus leaned closer as he spoke, still gripping Harry’s hand.

Harry licked his lips, there was something else, and he frowned in concentration. “I heard someone call my name from the stands. It was…Professor Snape. I turned to look for him in the crowd.”

There was a gasp from the end of the bed. “How did you ever hear that over the crowd?” Snape’s astonished voice came from the foot of the bed.

Harry made the mistake of trying to lift his head, and moaned as pain exploded in it. Closing his eyes tightly he could see flashes of color in the darkness, as Dumbledore cupped his hand across his forehead, and Remus’ hands braced themselves on his shoulders.

“Harry, if you insist on moving, I am afraid you will be in a tremendous amount of pain. If you stay very still, you should be alright.” Albus Dumbledore told him gently. “You took a blow to your head and neck, and then fell about ten feet to the ground. Madame Pomfrey was not very happy when she saw you, but says you should be fine in a few days.”

Harry swallowed and attempted a grin. “Why is it always my head?” He whispered as he opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

Remus let go of his shoulders and chuckled as he sat back up, his hand resting on Harry’s knee. “It’s dinner time, Harry, you’ve been out all afternoon.”

Madame Pomfrey came bustling in, and spent several minutes fussing over Harry, before holding a goblet of familiar dark blue potion to his lips. Harry drank dutifully, his head pounding and closed his eyes.

“Alright, I want everyone out, he needs to rest now.” The nurse told them.

“ I am not leaving. Remus said quietly, still sitting on the edge of the bed. Harry reached out a hand again, which his godfather took firmly in his warm grasp.

Albus Dumbledore put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Poppy, I agree with Remus that someone needs to be stay with Harry, all things considered. I promise we will not disturb him, or get in the way of your duties.”

Madame Pomfrey left the bedside muttering under her breath, pushing curtains around the bed to give them a little privacy. Harry closed his eyes, the blurriness of his vision without his glasses bothered them. He felt safe and secure, his hand firmly held by his godfather.

“I don’t think Harry should be left alone, Professor, not after what happened this morning. I will just stay here with him.” Remus said in a low voice.

“You need to eat, Remus, and get a bit of rest at some point.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

“I will relieve Lupin, Headmaster.” Snape’s voice was equally quiet.

“Thank you, Severus. I will arrange to have some food brought up for you, Remus. I will come back in the morning and sit with Harry for awhile then.”

Harry drifted off, hearing the voices continue to speak quietly, but too tired to try and listen. Soft blackness engulfed him and he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

It was dark when Harry opened his eyes, the only dim light coming from somewhere on the other side of the privacy curtains. He could just make out a figure standing next to the bed, a blurred outline in black. A jolt of apprehension hit him, it wasn’t Remus or Dumbledore standing there, and his mind flashed back to the conversation he had heard as he went to sleep. His head throbbed painfully, but his mind seemed clear, and Harry tried to turn toward the nightstand where he knew his glasses and wand would be. He slipped off the pillows that propped him up, and the wave of pain that hit him was so severe it took his breath away.

“Potter!”

Harry cringed from the sharp tone of voice, trying to pull back from the hands that caught at him. Panic rose in the back of his throat, but Harry struggled to think clearly, knowing he had to get to his wand, fighting against the restraining grasp.

“Harry, it’s alright, you are safe. Please, relax and let me get you back on the pillows.” The hands grasped his shoulders and held him still, letting the calm, quiet voice seep in to his consciousness.

“Professor Snape?” Harry asked astounded as he clutched at the hands that steadied him, his head spinning painfully. “Remus…”

“Was exhausted, Harry, and is asleep in the bed right outside the curtains.” Snape told him quietly, as he maneuvered Harry back up on to the pillows.

“Why…help…? You hate me.” The whispered words spilled out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop them, the pounding in his head almost unbearable.

He felt the bed give as Snape sat next to him, and his glasses materialized in front of him. Harry took them with muttered thanks and eased them on to his head. A bandage covered his right temple, and the right side of his head very sore. The man sitting next to him came into focus, and held a goblet out to Harry. Harry reached for it, but found that his hands were shaking too hard to hold it. Embarrassment flooded through him as Snape steadied the goblet so Harry could sip some water. Handing back the goblet, Harry sank back into the pillows, his eyes following every motion the older man made.

“Really, Mister Potter, I am not going to bite you.” Severus Snape sighed. “I do not hate you, contrary to what you might believe. Although I will admit, that there has been past…friction, and I may have been rash in my initial assessment of you.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to what Snape seemed to be trying to say, but was saved the need as his stomach rumbling loudly. Snape looked at him quizzically for a moment.

“Accio tray.” Snape muttered and a small oval tray flew from a nearby table, and Harry was relieved to see fruit and sandwiches on it, as he was not about to let Snape feed him.

“What time is it?” Harry asked as he accepted a sandwich, taking a small bite. The right side of his face hurt when he chewed, and he swallowed quickly.

“It is almost dawn Sunday morning. Potter, you are not eating.”

“Hurts to chew, but its okay.” Harry told Snape quickly, as the Potions Master took the sandwich from his unresisting hand. “I’m fine.”

Snape turned toward the tray he’d placed on the bedside chair, poured something from a flagon, muttering. Turning back, he pressed what felt like a small stick into Harry’s hand, wrapping his fingers around it.

“Try that, Potter.”

Harry brought it tentatively to his mouth and after a hesitant taste, found that it was a sweet ice-lolly that tasted like pumpkin juice. He sucked on it eagerly, the coolness felt good going down his parched throat.

Several minutes later, Harry handed back the stick to Snape, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed, studying him intently. “Thank you, sir.”

Harry closed his eyes against the scrutiny, uneasy about the presence of the man who had gone out of his way to loathe him for the past five years. Snape had always hated him, merely for his resemblance to his father, and Harry was not sure that he could accept anything else from the man. Weary, sleep overtook him again.

Light flooded the hospital wing when Harry opened his eyes next. He closed them quickly, the light harsh on his blurry eyes. Cautiously, he opened them a little at a time, being careful not to move his head. Glancing around, he was surprised that no one was with him.

“Accio glasses. Accio wand.” He thought, and both his glasses and his wand flew into his hand. Slipping on his glasses, he was glad to see the room come into focus.

“Well done, Harry.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice sounded to his right, and a figure moved into Harry’s limited line of sight. Cool fingers brushed the hair back from his forehead, as the Headmaster, clad in sapphire blue robes, moved to sit on the right side of the bed. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Harry sat quietly for a moment, assessing. “My head isn’t pounded quite as badly as last night, Professor.”

“Professor Snape said that you only had some pumpkin juice during the night, Harry.” Dumbledore’s light blue eyes were concerned as they peered at him. “He was of the impression that the soreness of your jaw made chewing painfully.”

“Yes. Sir, a little.” Harry told him. “Is Remus okay”?

“Yes, yes, fine, Harry. He should be back any moment, as I sent him down to breakfast.” Dumbledore looked at him intently, the piercing look that Harry felt could see into his soul. “You must be very careful, Harry, as you realize that Voldemort would do anything to get you in his hands.” He said quietly. My intent is not to scare you, but to make you more aware of what’s around you. The Death Mark over Hogsmeade in particular is a sign that Voldemort has his eye on us.”

Harry met the concerned blue eyes. “Yes, sir, I will be, but I never expected this thing with Crabbe, it was a surprise.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, and Professor Snape has addressed all of Slytherin House, as any other assault on you or any other student will be grounds for immediate expulsion, without exception.”

“What about the Hogsmeade weekends, Professor?” Harry asked. “Couldn’t that be dangerous?”

“I am reluctant to let students go to the village after what happened on Halloween.” Dumbledore agreed. “Especially with the possibility of someone coming back under the Imperious Curse.”

The curtain was pulled back and Remus appeared with a small tray of food, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. A delighted smile lit Harry’s face, and he slowly ate the porridge and scrambled eggs his godfather brought him as he listened to his friends chatter on about the bludgers hit and chaos that followed. Remus stood beside the bed, his hand resting lightly on Harry’s shoulder as he watched, and Professor Dumbledore watched with a twinkle in his eye.

Madame Pomfrey kept Harry for three more days before proclaiming him recovered enough to return to the dormitory and classes. She banned him from any Quidditch practice for another week. Harry was so glad to be back in his own four-poster, that he did not even complain about all the homework piled up waiting for him.

November passed swiftly into December without any further incidents, But Harry’s scar continued to prickle and ache daily. The weather turned cold and winter laid a thick mantle of glistening white snow over the turrets and towers of the castle, covering the Hogwarts grounds. Hufflepuff lost a rousing Quidditch match to Ravenclaw just at the end of November, and Slytherin smashed Ravenclaw just before the start of Christmas holidays.

Most students were going home for Christmas, parents being nervous after learning of the Dark Marks appearance so close by at Halloween. There had been no other outward signs of Voldemort’s activities, but the Daily Prophet had begun to report the disappearances of witches and wizards who had denied they were the Dark Lord’s supporters last time. It was unknown whether they had gone to rejoin his Death Eaters, or were being killed for revenge, as no bodies were found.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were almost always together, attending the same classes for the most part. Ginny was a frequent fourth in their group, outside of class. Members of the DA had been made aware of the potential threat to Harry by other students, making sure that there was always someone with him and the others. The group quickly fell into the habit of staying together, whether in their own Houses, or collectively studying in the library. This seemed to promote good inter-house relationships between the three Houses represented, which seemed to please Dumbledore.

Classes had gotten progressively harder for the fifth and sixth years. Ginny had her hands full with the pre-OWL homework given, and the rest were buried in pre-NEWT studies. Transfiguration had begun to study Animagi; Charms was working on Fidelius theory; and Herbology trying to grow gillyweed and monksford. Harry’s head felt like there was just too much information being crammed in. Potions was at least hands on, with Professor Snape almost being civil to them as they were assigned to brew various medical and healing potions to restock the hospital wing for Madame Pomfrey. Snape had not changed since the incident in the hospital that Harry could see, still the sneering, snarling Potions Master, but he had stopped actively persecuting him. Only in Defense Against the Dark Arts was Harry confident in his progress.

The Wednesday before Christmas holidays, Remus stopped Harry on the way out of lunch, and sent him up to the dormitory to change into muggle clothing and get his invisibility cloak. Curious, Harry ran up, changed, grabbed his cloak, and met Remus back in the Entrance Hall. Without speaking, Harry followed his godfather up to the Headmaster’s office.

“Chocolate Frog.” Remus said to the gargoyle guarding the entrance and it sprang aside immediately.

Harry was surprised to see Severus Snape; dressing in a traveling cloak, already in the office, speaking to Albus Dumbledore is a low voice.

“Good afternoon, Harry.” Dumbledore greeted him warmly, his rich scarlet robes embroidered with gold Phoenixes. Remus stepped over and said something to Snape, Dumbledore turned back to them.

Fawkes the Phoenix sat on his perch behind the door, blinking at him serenely, and Harry moved towards the bird.

“Hello, Fawkes.” Harry said softly to the scarlet and gold bird, and Fawkes bowed his head, allowing Harry to stroke him.

“Harry.” Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. “I have something I would like you to do today.”

Harry smiled up into the light blue eyes. “Yes, sir?”

“I am sending you to Grimmauld Place with Remus and Professor Snape. I would like you to practice Apparating and the disappearing I taught you this summer.” Dumbledore’s eyes grew serious behind the half-moon spectacles. “Then I would like you to make a trip to Diagon Alley.”

“Diagon Alley?” Harry looked at him puzzled.

“Yes, Harry, which I realize is a risk, but in the past week all of the known Death Eaters that were being watched have disappeared, and the Order is concerned that Voldemort may be planning something. The last time any of they had been seen, they were in London, and if word leaked out that you were spotted in Diagon Alley, it may draw some of them out into the open.” The blue eyes were concerned. “I am aware of the danger I am asking you to place yourself in, Harry, both physically and what you will suffer when Voldemort finds out.” He searched Harry’s emerald eyes. “You do not have to do this, Harry, if you do not want to.”

Harry smiled, his eyes sparkling. “Can I buy a couple of Christmas presents?”

Dumbledore chuckled and patted his shoulder. “If you can do so quickly and safely, with Remus or Severus approving it, I image you can. I would like you to make several brief appearances, using a combination of your invisibility cloak and the disappearing magic. You must not stay in one place for more than a few moments, and you understand why, of course?”

“Yeah, don’t want Voldemort popping in on us unexpectedly.” Harry agreed.

The Headmaster turned Harry to face him, a hand on each shoulder, the clear blue eyes piercing the emerald green. “You are not to go anywhere without Remus or Severus at your side. There will be members of the Order of the Phoenix in the area, but you must not acknowledge them, or go with them or anyone else for any reason. I know that you trust Remus, but you must also trust also trust Professor Snape with your life. Can you do that, Harry?”

Harry looked into the searching blue depths, thought back over the last few months and his encounters with Snape. He knew that he might not like the man very much, but he did trust him.

“Yes, Professor, I can.” Harry responded sincerely, carefully not looking at the Potions Master.

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder and nodded, a smile lighting his face. Reaching to Harry’s right, he picked up an old black kettle from a small table.

“Portus”

The kettle glowed blue and trembled for a second. Dumbledore handed the kettle to Remus. “Gentlemen, good luck.”

Harry gripped his cloak and put a hand on the kettle with the other two men. The familiar sensation of a hook jerking him from behind his navel, and then they were spinning.

The kitchen of twelve Grimmauld Place appeared in front of him and Harry stumbled, grabbing at Remus to steady himself. Molly Weasley jumped up from the table with a cry.

“Harry!” Engulfing him in a great hug.

“’Lo, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry mumbled into her shoulder. She pushed him to arms length and ran a critical eye over him.

“Remus, he isn’t eating enough.”

“Yes, Molly.”

“And he looks peaky.”

“Yes, Molly.”

“And…”

“Yes, Molly.” Remus gently pried Harry away from her, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “We really must get started, Molly.”

Muttering under her breath, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Remus turned back to Harry, who saw that Snape was a silent presence next to the table.

“Alright, Harry, I want you to Apparate up to the drawing room and then back down here.”

Harry nodded, visualizing the room, Disapparated. Arriving in the dim empty room, Harry felt a pang of grief as he glanced, remembering Sirius. He closed his eyes and Apparated back to the kitchen.

Snape was now sitting at the table, as Remus stood by the fireplace. Harry practiced twice more at Remus’ direction.

“Well done, Harry, now, let me see you appear and disappear, please.”

Harry handed Remus the invisibility cloak that he had been carrying, took out his wand, and twirled. Disappearing, he reappeared at the foot of the stairs; disappeared and reappeared near the dresser. Harry twirled again, and reappeared behind Snape, causing the Potions Master to jump.

“Sorry, Professor.” Harry said quickly, Snape staring at him.

“I am impressed, Potter.” Snape said in a level voice. “There are not many who are able to achieve that.”

“Yes, very good, Harry.” Remus walked over. “How do you feel? Do you want to practice more?”

“I’m okay, Remus.” Harry said quietly. Sitting down in the chair next to Snape, he put his wand away.

“All right then, we are going to Apparate to the back store of Fred and George’s shoppe, and we will leave together with Harry under the cloak. We need to go to the Apothecary, and where did you want to go, Harry?”

Harry’s face went red. “Uh, the jewelry shoppe and the clothing shoppe.”

Remus smiled faintly. “So we’ll start at the clothing place, where Severus will take the cloak for moving on to the Apothecary, and then the jeweler. Does that sound agreeable, Severus?” He handed Harry back his cloak.

“I believe so, Remus, as that makes at least one of us invisible at all times, which should confuse anyone watching.” Snape stood up.

“Alright, then, if we are ready, I will Apparate first, give it a minute, and then both of you can Apparate in.”

Harry stood and watched as Remus Disapparated. Gathering his cloak, he waited stiffly for Snape to give the go-ahead.

“Relax, Potter, I am not going to attack you.”

Harry was finding it difficult to relax in the man’s presence.

“Time to go, Harry.”

Harry started and looked up at Snape, puzzled.

“I do not think you want me calling you ‘Potter’ all afternoon, in the middle of Diagon Alley. Ready?”

At Snape’s signal, they Apparated to the back room of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Remus looked relieved, Fred and George practically knocked Harry over with their greeting.

“You guys must be doing great, you look fabulous!” Harry said as the two pounded him on the back. Pulling a piece of parchment out of his pocket, he handed it to Fred. “I was going to send this up to you tomorrow, can you take care of these for me, for Christmas?”

“Of course, mate, no problem!” They both beamed at him, dressed in identical purple jumpers and jeans.

“Harry, best put on your cloak.” Remus called from the doorway to the shoppe.

Harry disappeared under the cloak, and walked between Snape and Lupin moving leisurely toward the clothing shoppe. Standing behind his companions, Harry took off the cloak and quickly passed it to Snape. Harry entered the store, and saw immediately what he was looking for. Walking over to the sock, he quickly picked out two pairs of thick wooly socks in Gryffindor colors, and grabbed a glowing chartreuse scarf that he was sure Dobby would love. Paying for the items, Harry preceded Remus to the doorway. Stepping outside, he immediately began to twirl and disappeared. Reappearing in the doorway to the Apothecary, he ducked quickly inside.

“Harry.” Snape hissed and Harry moved towards him, shielding the Potions Master as he pulled off the invisibility cloak.

Remus joined them as Snape quickly began to gather several different potions ingredients. Harry moved to help, holding the items Snape chose, while Remus watched the people walking in front of the store. Piling the handful of things Snape had picked on the counter, Harry paid for them quickly, and moved back to the where Snape was examining a shelf of bright powders.

“Uh, sir?”

“What is it, Harry?”

“The man behind the counter is watching you like he knows you. I’ve paid for the other things already. Perhaps we should go.”

Snape’s head whipped up and he shot a glance at the wizard in question. Harry stepped in front of him, and Snape disappeared under the cloak. Joining Remus at the door, they stepped out. Remus scanned the faces of the crowd intently, as they made their way to the Jewelry shoppe that stood by itself at one end of the alley. Harry twirled and disappeared from the side of the Apothecary, reappearing next to the jewelry store. He slipped in ahead of the other two, and went immediately to the display of watches. Swiftly looking over the selection, he picked out a simple but elegant gold and silver pocket watch.

“Excuse me.” Harry addressed the bored looking older man who stepped out of the backroom. “I’d like this watch, please, for my godfather, who is about to step through your door. Can you get it in to a box quickly, please?”

The man sauntered over, his assessing eyes running over Harry, who was now looking over the display of lockets. Remus came through the door, appearing to be alone. Harry quickly found what he was looking for and handed it to the jeweler.

Turning to Remus, he asked. “Any ideas on what Hermione might like?”

Remus laughed shortly, and immediately pointed to an elegant gold and feather quill and ink set. Harry added that the items on the counter.

“Is the young master sure that he can afford these?” The jeweler asked, his voice slightly condescending in tone.

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he turned to the older man, taking in the slightly curled lip. Drawing himself up, Harry tilted his head, and looked down his nose, in his best Snape impersonation. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.

“As heir to the Black estate and the last surviving Potter, sir, I believe there is more than enough gold in my Gringotts vault.”

The man blinked in astonishment, his eyes darting to the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Mister Potter! My apologies! I did not recognize you!” The man simpered.

Harry swept the boxes off the counter and headed for the door where Remus waited, almost running into Snape concealed under the cloak. As he pushed open the door, he swore he heard sniggering. Remus joined him outside, and Snape appeared from under the cloak. Remus was grinning, and much to Harry’s surprise, so was Snape.

“Sorry, but he made me mad.” Harry muttered, slightly embarrassed.

The strange tingle at the back of his neck happened again.

“I think we are being watched.” Harry told his companions quietly.

“Go!” Remus urged softly. “Apparate, Harry, to the house, now!”

Harry did what he was told immediately, Apparating to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He had barely set his packages down when Remus and Snape appeared beside the fireplace. Folding the invisibility cloak, Snape set it on the table.

“I need to warn the twins.” Remus said suddenly.

Stepping toward him, Harry grabbed him by the arm; a feeling of foreboding ran down his spine. “No, Remus, I don’t like this, please don’t go!”

“I will go.” Snape announced, but the same feeling of trepidation ran down Harry’s spine.

“No!” Harry grabbed Snape as well, and met the dark gaze, fear evident in his emerald eyes. “You are a target, too.”

The scar on Harry’s forehead gave a searing throb, and turning from the two men, Harry clapped his hands to his head with a sharp intake of breath.

“We need to get back to Hogwarts, Harry.” Remus told him, his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

With a crack, Fred and George Weasley Apparated into the kitchen. Pale faced and visibly shaken, the two slumped into chairs. Remus moved to check on them.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” George wheezed.

“Thank goodness you got back!” Fred completed the sentence.

The scar seared white-hot and Harry took a ragged breath. “What happened?”

“About ten minutes ago, two Death Eaters in masks and robes rushed into the store, and ran directly towards the back room.” George said.

“So, of course, we hit them with an Impediment Jinx, and threw them out!” Fred continued.

“A couple minutes later, the jewelry shoppe at the end of the Alley exploded.” George went on.

“And all we could do was close up and hope like hell that you had already left.” Fred finished.

Sharp pain sliced through his head and Harry staggered. A strong arm wrapped itself around his chest, holding his up.

“Remus!” Snape’s voice was sharp in Harry’s ear. “We need to get Harry back, now.”

Remus grabbed the packages from the table and picked up the old kettle.

“Stay out of the Diagon Alley for a couple days, boys.” Remus told the Weasley twins. “Portus.”

Remus grabbed Harry’s hand and wrapped it around the lip of the kettle. Snape kept one arm around Harry and one on the kettle. Harry didn’t have time to brace himself, and just as the hook yanked behind his navel, his head exploded in agonizing pain. The world went black.

He was falling, his head cleaved in two, and stomach churning at the incredible pain. Someone had him, holding him tightly, protectively, and Harry turned his focus inward, sealing his mind against the burning pain, trying to smooth the walls. The spinning and falling finally stopped, an arm still tightly securing him around the chest, and another wave of fire pulsed through his head, visions playing in his mind.

Soft warmth brushed his face, and Phoenix song thrilled, softening the brutal edge of pain. Harry tried to focus on the images that were running through his mind. He was aware enough of his surroundings to know they were back in the Headmaster’s office, and Remus was beside him, speaking softly, reassuringly.

A fresh wave of agony flashed through him, and he could feel his body spasm uncontrollably, arms fighting to hold him safe. His stomach heaved, and his scar felt branded, white-hot on his forehead. Cool fingers laid over it, calming and reassuring. Harry felt blindly for the hand with his right hand, his left seeking the arm across his chest, anchoring himself as he gasped in pain. Slowly, the pain ebbed to the point where he could understand the anxious voices.

“This has gone on too long, I’m going to get Poppy!” Urgency colored Remus’ voice.

“No!” Harry gasped, stretching out his right hand toward his godfather. “No!”

“Harry, what is it?” Dumbledore’s calm voice swirled over him, as Harry felt Remus grasp his hand.

“…spies…don’t tell…anyone…” Harry struggled to get the words out, his teeth gritted against the pain. He took several deep, ragged breaths, swallowing against the bile rising in his throat. He managed to open his eyes, as a goblet was pressed to his lips.

“Here, son, take a drink.” Remus knelt beside him, tilting water into his mouth.

Harry let the cool water slide down his throat, the waves of pain finally ebbing enough for him to speak coherently. “There is a spy in the Order, as well as here.”

Stunned silence followed his announcement, and Harry saw that he was on the floor of Dumbledore’s office, under the window by the fireplace. Severus Snape held him firmly around the chest, his back braced against the wall. Still trembling, his head throbbing painfully, Harry had neither the strength nor the will to push away. Remus and Dumbledore knelt on either side of them, both looking worried. Fawkes stood near Harry’s right leg, his somber eyes watching intently.

“What did you see, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly.

A shudder ran through him, and Snape tightened his grip on Harry. “First came word that someone had spotted me in Diagon Alley, and Voldemort was really happy about that, sending two Death Eaters there.” Harry spoke softly, willing the tremors running through him to stop. “They weren’t able to find us, and that made really mad. Then the jeweler, who was a follower, told him that he had sold me items, identified myself by name, and described Remus to him. Voldemort was so angry that the man didn’t notify him while we were still there, he killed him on the spot and blew up the store.” Harry paused, closing his eyes briefly.

“Right after that, a hooded figure told him that…” Harry trailed off, uncomfortable.

“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore prompted gently.

“Told him that I appeared to have been put under some kind of spell by Professor Snape, who was now in control of my mind and directing my actions, and that was why I had saved him that morning.” Harry felt Snape stiffen behind him, but still held him firmly as Harry made to pull away. “He told Voldemort about the first week of school when you took all those points, sir.” Harry said, his words for the Potions Master, recognizing the information as a first hand account.

“Which means one of your Potions classmates, specifically Mister Malfoy, I would surmise.” Snape’s voice sounded harsh by his ear.

“A good possibility, Severus, but how is he getting out to make such a report?” Dumbledore said as he stood. “Can you stand, Harry?”

At Harry’s nod, Remus helped him up, with Snape supporting him from behind. Settling him into a chair, Remus turned and extended his hand to help Snape up from the floor. Harry leaned his head back against the chair; the pain had eased to a pounding throb, and the shakiness abating slowly.

“Harry, you said there was a spy in the Order?” Dumbledore prompted him softly, seating himself behind his desk as Fawkes flew up to his perch.

“There was another person there, also in a cloak with a hood, who told Voldemort that he had successfully penetrated the Order, told him that the meetings were being held in Sirius’ house, and about Remus being here to guard me.” Harry told him. “It was a man, I think, but with the hood up, and looking from Voldemort’s eyes, I can’t really give you any more, Professor. I’m sorry.” Harry closed his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face.

“You did fine, Harry, and this information is very useful to us.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully, a frown creasing his forehead.

Harry opened his eyes and sat watching him, flanked by Remus standing on his right and Snape on his left, both also watching the older wizard. Glancing up, Harry saw the worried expression on his godfather’s face.

“I will need time to think about this. We will need to discover who the spy is within the Order, as well as how Mister Malfoy is leaving Hogwarts to make his reports to Lord Voldemort.” Albus Dumbledore told the three a few minutes later. “You worked very well today as a team, all of you, and we have learned some vital information. I must ask you not to speak to anyone about the spies that Harry saw for the moment.” Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at them, his expression grave. “We must be very cautious, especially Remus and Severus, as it sounds as if you will have been added to the list that Harry’s name is at the top of.”

“Yes, Headmaster.” Snape answered for all three of them.

The castle emptied of students that Saturday, with two third year boys from Ravenclaw and a fourth year Hufflepuff girl the only others spending the holidays at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron slept in that morning, having stayed up late playing wizard chess in the common room. Strolling down to the Great Hall, Harry marveled at the transformation: twelve tall richly decorated trees filled the hall; enchanted lighted fairies danced along the ceiling; garlands of holly, mistletoe, and juniper berries strung themselves along the walls; red, green, and gold candles floated about; and charmed strands of golden glittering rope twined itself along the eaves. Fat white flakes of snow fell from the sky on to the enchanted ceiling, and the castle gleamed in a fresh layer of sparkling white snow.

After a quick breakfast of toast, Harry and Ron went searching for Ginny and Hermione. A quick search of the castle did not locate them. Remus had not seen them when they saw him in the Entrance Hall as he headed for a look at the Great Hall. Returning to the common room, Harry stopped short when he saw the girls sitting there, peacefully reading. Ron plowed into the back of him, knocking him over. Both glared at the sniggering girls, as they sat watching from in front of the fire.

“What are you two up to?” Harry asked suspiciously, standing and brushing off his pants. Ron straightened up beside him.

“Why, nothing, Harry, just sitting here reading.” Hermione fluttered her eyelashes at him in total innocence, Ginny effecting a similar expression.

“Reading, my arse.” Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry looked over and smiled, realizing it was way too close to Christmas to question further. “How about a snowball fight?” He asked, knowing that Ron was itching to get outside.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances, and then smiled up at the two friends. “Well, Ginny has some, uh, homework to do, but I’ll go with you.” Hermione said brightly.

“Homework?” Harry muttered a few moments later, as he shoved his arms into his jacket, and threw his Gryffindor scarf around his neck. He bent over Ginny, who looked up at him with a grin, and gave her a swift kiss.

“Go and have some fun, and maybe I’ll be out a little later.” Ginny told him as she caught the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss.

Harry ruffled her hair affectionately, and followed his two friends out the portrait hole, down the marble staircase, and out the great oak doors. A world decorated in white greeted them; fat flakes of powdery snow fell silently, muffling any other sound. The three stopped for a moment at the top of the stairs, just looking out over the beautiful scene. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and stepped down into the almost knee deep snow. Harry followed them, breaking into a run at the bottom of the stairs, dancing through the falling snowflakes.

The three teenagers played in the snow for almost an hour, throwing snowballs, making a crooked snowman, and playing like children. Feeling eyes on them, Harry looked up to see a figure in a window, and imagined twinkling blue eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile, as the Headmaster followed their movements from the window in his office. Waving merrily up at Dumbledore, Harry missed the well-aimed snowball that thumped him on the back of his head. Spinning around Harry waved his hands in the air, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and handfuls of snow began to bombard Ron around the head.

“Arrrrrrrrgh…Harry!! Stop already!!” Ron yelled at him, Hermione rolling in the snow with laughter.

Harry pulled Hermione to her feet as Ron brushed the snow off the back of his neck. Hermione took out her wand and muttering an incantation, performed a drying spell on all of their clothes. The snow was still falling gently around them and the tracks they had made in the snow almost half filled by it. By unspoken consent, the three turned towards the castle, and began to make their way back.

“Harry, what is that?” Hermione pointed at a patch of black that marred the otherwise unrelieved white of the area.

Harry stopped and peered through the falling snow. “I dunno, Hermione, it almost looks like a person.”

Harry took off at a run, the other two falling in behind him. As he got closer, the dark blob looked more and more like the fallen figure of a person in a Hogwarts uniform. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see a figure in black racing from the front entrance of the castle. They all converged on the spot at the same time, and Harry saw that it was Professor Snape who dropped to his knees beside him, looking at the form of a small body completely covered by a black robe.

“Malfoy said…student down.” The older man panted his greasy black hair in disarray around his face. “Help me.”

The four of them reached out to grasp the black cloth, thinking to turn the student over. Instantly, the feeling of a hook jerking behind his navel told Harry that this had been a trick, and the black robe a portkey. The world dissolved into a spinning darkness, as apprehension exploded in Harry’s stomach.

Harry landed in a heap, with the others piled around him, in a dark, cold, wooded place. Scrambling up, his wand already in his hand, he tried to peer through the darkness.

“Kill the others, the Dark Lord wishes only Snape.” Growled a deep voice.

The muttered words rang in Harry’s mind, bring a flashback of a high cold voice in a dark graveyard; “Kill the spare.” Without conscious thought, Harry sent a stunning curse toward the voice. Spinning, he blasted the other direction, the spell light illuminating four hooded and masked Death Eaters. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Snape was on his feet, moving back to back with him so that they covered each other. Ron was pulling Hermione to her feet; both had their wands in their hands.

A jet of purple light flashed and with reflexes born of Quidditch practice, Harry dodged to the side, his wand flashed. “EXELLIARMUS!” He cried, watching satisfied as the wand flew out of the Dark Eater’s grasp. “STUPEFY!” The figure dropped in his tracks and Harry quickly bound him with the spell that Remus had taught him.

Hermione’s scream brought Harry’s head around in time to watch her fall, Ron battling one of the Death Eater’s over her, driving the black hooded figure back. Happy leapt back to where the others were, taking aim at one of the two figures bearing down on Snape. Ducking a stunning curse, Harry hit the Death Eater with a Blasting Curse that slammed the figure into a tree.

Glancing around, Harry could see that they were in a clearing in the middle of a heavily forested area. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of fallen leaves that muffled the sound of their movements. Looking over at Ron, Harry spun, disappeared, and reappeared behind the masked figure bearing down on his best friend.

“STUPEFY!”

The Death Eater fell heavily, and Harry quickly bound him. He ran toward Ron, who was on his knees beside Hermione. He saw that Snape had stunned his opponent and was binding the figure.

“STUPEFY!” Came a shout from their left, and Harry changed direction, heading toward Snape, when a blast of red light jetted past him. As if in time had slowed, Harry watched as the Potions Master tried to dodge, but stumbled and took the curse full in the face.

“You son of a…” Harry cried, whipping around in time to avoid a jet of purple. Tapping down the rage that flooded through him, Harry spun. He reappeared to the right of the startled figure. “EXPELLIAMUS!” He yelled. “IMPEDIMENTA!” As the

Death Eater dropped, Harry bounded him tightly.

Running back, Harry dropped to his knees beside the unconscious professor, his fingers sliding down Snape’s neck feeling for a pulse. His fingers found a strong beat, and Harry dropped his hand to Snape’s chest, reassured to feel steady breathing. Spotting the older man’s wand, Harry slid it into his pocket. He looked over to see Ron helping Hermione sit up, looking pale but conscious.

“Is she okay, Ron?” Harry asked quietly as he stood.

“Yeah, just a little rattled, and I think she hit her arm when she fell.” Ron carefully helped Hermione up.

“Okay, we need to get out of here before any more Death Eaters can show up.” Harry said, looking around them. He held out his hand and the four wands of the bound figures flew into it. He threw them as hard as he could in to the woods. Holding his wand on his flat outstretched left hand, Harry muttered. “Hogwarts, point me.” The wand spun, finally pointing straight into the forest. As he closed his hand around his wand, Harry caught a glimpse of his watch, not knowing if it would have any affect, he pressed his finger to it, his mind reaching out. Nothing happened.

“Come on, we got to move. Hermione, can you walk.”

“Yes, I’m okay.” She gave him a small smile, cradling her left arm, Ron at her side.

“Mobilicorpus.” Harry said, his hand held over Snape, whose body rose and moved with him. “This way, quickly.”

They set off at a fast walk, making their way through the thick forest, as quickly as they could. Harry made frequent checks of Snape, but he remained stubbornly unconscious. “Greasy git, can’t you just once be anything but stubborn?” He muttered under his breath.

Harry had lost track of time, when he stumbled, his foot catching the top of a root and twisting, sharp pain shooting up his leg. He managed to catch himself, and Ron leapt forward to steady him.

“You alright, mate?” Ran asked, helping to lower both Harry and Snape to the ground, easing the older man’s head into Harry’s lap.

“Yeah, but I think I might have sprained my ankle.” Harry rubbed at his right ankle. Hermione sat down beside him, her face pale and he could see the pain reflected in her brown eyes. “How are you doing?” He rubbed her lower back gently.

“I’ll be okay, Harry, any idea where we are?” She asked quietly.

Ron sat down beside them, closing his eyes wearily. “Not quite the start I wanted for the Christmas holidays.” His eyes snapped open and he grinned at Harry. “You were bloody wicked back there, mate! You have to teach me that spinning thing!”

Any response was drowned out by a low moan from Severus Snape, his hands flying to his face. Harry caught them in his hands, gently restraining them. “Professor, can you hear me?”

Snape stopped moving, and in the dim light Harry could see him open his eyes. He blinked several times, and tried to sit up. “Easy, Professor, you’ve been out for a long time.” Harry let go of his hands and caught the black-clad shoulders. “How do you feel?”

“My head feels like it has been forcibly removed from my neck, Potter, how do you think it feels?” The weak voice had a familiar sneer in it, which heartened the teenagers.

A white-hot pain throbbed through the lightening bolt scar on Harry’s forehead, and he gasped. “Probably like mine is going to feel any moment now, as I think Voldemort is getting the news that you’ve escaped his trap.” Harry said resigned. “Do you want to try to sit up now, Professor?”

“Yes, if you can…”

Harry helped Snape sit up, letting the professor lean heavily against him, as the man held his head in his hands. Rubbing at his forehead with one hand, Harry pulled Snape’s wand from his pocket with the other.

“Lumos,” Harry muttered. “Here is your wand, Professor.”

Severus Snape raised his head, turning his face slowly towards the lighted wand. He reached out, his hand trembling. “I do not seem to be able to see it, Harry, if you would hand it to me please.”

The three teenagers gaped at him. Harry carefully placed the wand in Snape’s hand, but retained control of it, tilting the man’s head back gently and looking in to his eyes. They looked normal although the skin around them was red and bruised; the pupils reacting to the light being pulled away, and then brought close again.

“Nox.” Harry murmured, his head pulsing again with pain. “We need to keep moving, they could be searching for us still.”

“How are we going to do that, Harry, with your ankle?” Ron asked him, his arm still around Hermione. “Professor Snape can’t see, and Hermione’s hurt, too,” He drew a deep breath. “Maybe I should go ahead and see if I can find help.”

“I don’t think we should separate, Ron, especially when we don’t know where the portkey took us, or how far from Hogwarts we are. If we were close at all, you could Apparate, but…” Harry trailed off as another wave of pain seared white-hot through his head.

“I believe we may be in a forested area near Hogsmeade, but I can not be certain,” Snape commented quietly.

“Come on, we got to try to get further away at least. My head is about to split, and I am not going to be any help if Voldemort has a temper tantrum now,” Harry stood, leaning down to help Snape to his feet. “Are you alright, Professor? Can you lean on me?”

“Yes, Potter, I think I can walk with your assistance.” Snape said, as Harry positioned the older arm across his shoulder.

Ron helped Hermione up and they all moved slowing in the direction that Harry’s wand had pointed to. Harry gritted his teeth, the sharp pain in his ankle a perfect foil for the searing pain in his head, limping awkwardly as he supported Snape. Slowly, the group made their way silently towards a lighter section of the forest. Harry stopped just short of the area, trying to see through the dimness of the dense brush.

“I think there is a clearing up ahead, Professor, it looks like the trees are further apart, and the lightness may be snow, as it is too thick to fall here,” He lowered Snape gently to the ground, and signaled Hermione to sit with him.

“Ron and I are going to go ahead and take a look, you two stay here,” As he watched, Hermione reached out and took Snape’s unresisting hand in hers, her wand held ready in her injured hand.

Ron beside him, Harry limped toward the lightness, his head throbbing so painfully that tears slid down his cheeks. Silently, they crept up to the edge of the clearing, sheltering behind the trunk of a large tree, Harry met Ron’s eyes, reading the same fear he was feeling, and nodded. Together, they stepped out in to the snow covered clearing from the opposite sides of the tree and right into the arms of Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor!” They chorus together, the wave of relief that went through him almost took Harry to his knees. Remus Lupin materialized in front of him, hands clutching at his shoulders, and over his godfather’s shoulder Harry could see a group of people in the clearing headed towards them.

“We have to go back and get Hermione and Snape, they’re both hurt,” Harry turned around and with Ron, limped back to where the other two sat in the shelter of a large tree. “I think Professor Snape is in shock, he took a curse to the face and now he can’t see, and Hermione hurt her arm.” He told Dumbledore and Remus as they followed.

Just as the large tree that Hermione and Snape sat under came into view, the top of Harry’s head seemed to implode with pain. The world went black as he felt Voldemort’s towering rage as the Death Eaters told him not only of the failed mission, but also of the three students who help his former Death Eater escape him.

The murmur of voices penetrated his consciousness, as the world of pain receded enough that Harry became aware again. He could feel Remus’ presence near him, and could hear Hermione’s clear, but slightly hoarse voice, and he tried to open his eyes. A groan escaped him as blinding white light reflected off the snow that covered the small clearing that they had found. Several hands reached out to support him as he rolled to sit up. Harry was unable to swallow a moan of pain, as he jarred his right ankle.

“Harry?” Remus was beside him, and Harry looked up at him blurrily. “We need to get you back to the castle, the others think they can Apparate, we’ve just been waiting for you.”

Harry nodded, the pounding in his head easing, and stood up with his godfather’s help. He could see that the others in the clearing had been part of the Auror squad from the Shrieking Shack; Kingsley Shaklebolt was stalking around the perimeter of the clearing barking orders. Grasping at the arm that Remus offered him, Harry stood and looked around. Hermione had her good arm around his waist, looking pale and shaky. Ron stood to her left, his arm supporting Severus Snape, whose face looked even more bruised and inflamed in the light. Moving to the center of the clearing, they dropped their arms, the group Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

Remus stood guard at the gates, while Harry and the others helped each other toward the great oak front doors of the castle. Harry had one arm around Hermione’s shoulders and his other arm looped around Snape’s arm, guiding him. Ron was on Hermione’s right side, supporting her with an arm around her waist. It was slow progress, but as soon as they were within sight of the front steps, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey came running out to meet them.

The nurse ended up putting them all to bed at the far end of the hospital wing, even Ron, as she was sure that the same shock that had set in with the other three would hit him at some point. It was now almost dinnertime, and softly flickering torches lighted the ward. Minerva McGonagall stood guard over them, her deep almost black forest green robes making her look like a panther protecting her cubs. Glancing over at the stoic figure of the older wizard in the bed beside him, Harry had to smile, thinking that Snape would not appreciate being thought of as anyone’s cub.

Harry watched the activity move from Ron and Hermione across the aisle, to the man next to him, his broken ankle still waiting to be mended. Madame Pomfrey had concentrated on the Potions Master and Hermione, who had both been hit by the same curse, but affected differently. Hermione had taken the curse to her chest and it had done some damage to her lungs. Healed first, she was now sleeping, Ron watching every movement as her chest rose and fell. Professor Snape had taken the curse to his face and eyes, and Madame Pomfrey had used her wand to heal what she could, and gave the man a healing potion for his eyes, before wrapping a black silk scarf around his head.

“You will be fine, Severus, but you just need to keep this on for a couple days while your eyes have time to repair.” She had told him with a pat on the shoulder. Snape leaned back against his pillows, arms crossed over his chest, silent in his dark world.

It was Harry’s turn, and he let the nurse fuss over him in silence, as she healed the broken bone in his ankle swiftly, with a potion for the damage he had done to the tendons and ligaments by walking on it. His scar still burned and throbbed, but the pain was manageable, and he didn’t think to mention it. Closing his eyes, he had to smile as he heard Pomfrey mutter something about engraving his name on the bed, as he seemed to be in it so often.

“Harry?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice drifted to him quietly, and Harry opened his eyes to see the Headmaster sweep into the hospital wing with Remus at his side.

“Severus,” Dumbledore walked between the two beds that held them, his head resting first on Harry’s head and then on Snape’s in an identical gesture. Harry had to smother a laugh at the scowl that erupted on the older man’s face. Dumbledore strolled over and repeated the gesture with Hermione and Ron, before returning to look down at Professor Snape.

“Is everyone okay? Where’s Ginny?” Harry asked softly, knowing that the youngest Weasley would be beside herself with worry.

“She’s fine, Harry, and should be on her way here. Molly and Arthur arrived early this afternoon, as planned, so they have been with her,” Dumbledore told him, looking over to make sure Ron was listening.

“Thank you, sir,” Ron said quietly, his eyes returning to watch Hermione.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry said quietly, looking up at Remus with a smile as his godfather sat down on the bed.

“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore sat in the chair between Harry and Snape’s beds.

“I dunno exactly what happened or what you’ve been told, but when Ron, Hermione, and I saw what we thought was a person lying in the snow, Professor Snape came running up, and he said something about Malfoy sending him out.” Harry met the light blue eyes with a puzzled expression. “I thought Draco Malfoy went home for Christmas?”

“Indeed he did, Harry,” Dumbledore looked at the Potions Master. “Severus?”

“Yes, Headmaster?” Snape responded dully, his voice sounding oddly flat.

“Can you tell me what happened this afternoon?”

“I was walking through the Entrance Hall on my way to lunch, when Mister Malfoy ran up and said there was student injured outside. I ran out the door, without a thought to anything but getting to the student, and fell neatly into the trap that had been set.” He sighed. “I did not immediately recall that the train had left this morning.” Snape lapsed into silence.

The discussion was interrupted as the doors at the end of the room opened, and Ginny Weasley and her parents hurried in. In a swirl of spinning cloth, Molly Weasley pounced on Ron first and then Harry, hugging, kissing and fussing over them quietly. Ginny hugged her brother and moved over to kiss the top of Harry’s head, as she stood by his bed. Harry smiled up at her and took her hand. He closed his eyes, listening as Mister Weasley gentle restrained his wife from smothering their youngest son.

It was very late when Harry awoke, disoriented by the darkness around him. A moan from the bed next to him reminded Harry of what had happened that afternoon, and that he was back in the hospital wing. He retrieved his glasses from the bedside table with a wave of his hand and put them on. Snape was lying down in his bed, his arms held stiffly at his sides, his head rolling back and forth. Harry quietly crawled out of bed, and moved to sit beside Snape.

“Professor Snape?” Harry spoke softly, trying not to startle the sightless man. “Can I get something for you or call Madame Pomfrey?”

The Potions Master turned his head in Harry’s direction, his whole body stiffening. “I do not require assistance from you, Potter!” He snapped.

Harry supposed the nasty response was supposed to make him angry enough to leave the older man alone, but instead it sadden him. “Professor, I know you hate me and think I am a spoiled, arrogant child, and you are not exactly at the top of my Christmas list either, but we fought side by side in the woods today and Diagon Alley last week. You have helped me and even taken care of me in the past, why is it so difficult for you to let me help you now?”

Snape was quiet for so long that Harry thought he was going to ignore him completely, when he heard a slow sigh. “I am sorry, Harry, it is difficult for me to…rely on others in the best of circumstance, but especially now as I am particularly helpless.”

“We are, as you and Professor Dumbledore have pointed out many times, on the same side, sir,” Harry reminded him quietly. “If you will tell me what you need, I will try not to get it for you in an irritating manner.”

“The small amber colored vial of potion on the bedside table. Madame Pomfrey left several vials there and I can not tell which one to take.”

Harry leaned over the bed and selected the proper vial from a small rack of potions that had been left there. As he moved back and silently lifted the Potion Master’s hand, placing the small vial there, a throb of pain pulsed through his scar. His gasp of pain drowned out the quiet mutter of thanks from the man in the bed. As he rubbed his forehead with one hand, the other reached to take the now empty vial from Snape.

“What it is, Potter?” Snape asked softly, not releasing the vial.

“Just this stupid scar hurting again, sir,” Harry tugged the vial out of his hand and reached over to put it back in the rack. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, thank you, Mister Potter.”

Harry climbed back into his own bed, and quickly settled back to sleep.

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.

Voices penetrated the darkness that pushed in around him, pain pulsing through him, and his body shaking. He could feel a hand stroking his hair, a familiar warmth near him. Trying to concentrate on the softly murmuring voice, Harry struggled towards it, but he couldn’t seem to move.

“Come on, Harry, fight it. You’re strong, wrap your magic around it and fight, son.”

“Any change, Remus?” Another voice, older and comforting to hear.

“No, Professor, no better, but no worse either,” tiredness radiated from the low, almost hoarse voice.

“Harry is strong, Remus, and he has fought for this long, that Poppy thinks he may have a chance. He has been able to overcome deadly venoms in the past, with Fawkes’ help. Severus is in his dungeons now, brewing a potion with Phoenix tears that he thinks might help.”

“And what of Warmuth?”

“Kingsley and Tonks are dealing with him, but he will not be communicating anything to Lord Voldemort, rest assured. Remus, you need to get some rest.”

“I am not leaving him alone, Professor.”

“I would not think of it, Remus, I will sit with him until Miss Granger and Mister Weasley arrive. They will sit with Harry this afternoon.”

The darkness closed in on him again and Harry was pulled back into oblivion. His dreams were pain filled, his left arm and shoulder burning, but he was aware of crooning voices, and warm, comforting hands stroking his hair and holding his hand. In the recesses of his mind, Harry knew that he was protected, and gave himself up to stopping the poison he felt trying to overwhelm him.

oOo

He was climbing out of a long black tunnel, clawing his way toward the top, towards the light he knew would be there. Pain still throbbed through his left side and head, but it was a dull, achy pain, not the searing, burning pain of his dreams. Focusing on the rumble of a deep voice, and the warm pressure of a hand clasped around his, Harry reached upward.

“Really, Potter, if I am willing to sit here and talk to you, the least you can do is concentrate,” there was a sigh, and the voice lowered. “Use that formidable magic of yours, Harry, focus it through the medallion around your neck, it will center you and amplify your magic. It is an extraordinary amulet, and very intriguing, as Lupin said the Phoenix came alive when you stroked it. I don’t even know why I bought the thing, although it does seem that I was right about giving it to you. Come now, Potter, focus.”

The hand holding his let go, and he heard a deep, weary sigh as Harry was finally able to force his eyes open. A blurry black form sat in the chair beside the bed, the room behind him shrouded in darkness. Harry could see that the man had his face buried in his hands, a dark curtain of shoulder length hair obscuring his features. Unable to get his throat to work, Harry reached out with a trembling hand, brushing it through the heavy swing of hair, his movements clumsy.

The black clad figure jumped, startled by the touch and whipping his black eyes up to meet emerald green eyes, he grabbed Harry’s hand and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Potter!”

Harry squinted at his Potions professor, trying to focus as he was gently urged into a sitting position, and a goblet of water held to his lips. Harry drank greedily, the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat.

“Easy, Potter, sip it slowly, or you will make yourself sick, and I have no desire to deal with a retching Gryffindor, again.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry rasped out, his voice hoarse, as he was settled back on his pillows, his glasses handed to him. He felt Snape press a finger over the watch on his left wrist, but found that he wasn’t able to move his left arm. “What happened?”

Snape seemed to hesitate, picking up a vial from the bedside table and holding it to Harry’s lips. “Open your mouth, and drink this,” Harry obeyed, wincing at the bitter taste as he swallowed. “Do you remember what happened Christmas night?” Harry nodded. “You have been unconscious the past four days, but have managed to survive the deadly poison that you were injected with.”

“How? Where’s…?” Harry coughed to try and clear the tightness from his throat.

“It is three in the morning, Potter, on the night of the full moon, so everyone else is either sleeping or incapacitated; therefore, you are stuck with me,” The Potions Master curled his mouth in a sneer, but there was no heat behind it.

Harry smiled. “I don’t mind, Professor,” his eyes started to drift shut again.

“Stay with me for a little while longer, Harry, the Headmaster should be here in a moment and I am sure that Madame Pomfrey will need to do her usual poking and prodding,” Snape leaned toward him, as Harry opened his eyes, onyx meeting emerald. “I believe I have you to thank for the Pensieve?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “It just sort of called to me when I saw it, Professor, but I did not think you would accept a gift from me, so…”

Running a finger under the collar of Harry’s pajamas, Snape drew out the golden medallion. “Yes, I am aware of that feeling, as this called to me as well,” he studied the scarlet image.

“Thank you, sir, it’s beautifu,” Harry’s right hand came up to stroke the medal, and Snape seemed fascinated as the Phoenix responded to Harry’s touch, stretching its wings.

“Remarkable,” he muttered as the doors to the hospital wing flew open.

Looking up, Harry saw the tall, imposing figure of Professor Dumbledore stride into the room, in a swirl of silver robes. “Poppy!” He called as he made his way to Harry’s bed, replacing Snape as the younger man stood. “Harry, how do you feel?”

“Not sure, sir, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did,” Harry told him, his finger still stroking the medallion. “What happened exactly?”

“The poison Voldemort made was deadly, Harry, yet you have managed to survive it.”

“How?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“I am not complete sure, Harry, but I believe that is has to do with your prior exposure to both basilisk venom and that spider venom from the maze in your fourth year.”

But, sir, Fawkes helped me both those times,” Harry protested.

“And Christmas was a burning day for Fawkes, Harry; he was not able to help you.”

The Headmaster looked over his half-moon spectacles at him, the blue eyes serious. “It would seem that you have managed to develop a sort of immunity to poisons. When Fawkes aged adequately, he allowed Professor Snape to collect some tears, and Severus was able to brew a healing potion for you, that helped you expel the toxin,” Dumbledore studied him for a moment. “Your magic is truly amazing, Harry, and you have power that you are scarcely aware of,” he looked down at the medallion that Harry was absently stroking with a finger, the scarlet Phoenix now preening. “The amulet that Professor Snape has given you is very special, Harry, it has magical properties that will help you with your wandless magic.”

Madame Pomfrey bustled over and shooed the two men away from the bed as she bent down to examine Harry. Clutching her tongue and waving her wand over Harry, he closed his eyes as she checked him over. Vaguely remembering that he was supposed to stay awake, Harry smiled as he slid back into sleep.

oOo

Brightness greeted Harry the next time he opened his eyes, sharp and glaring and he groaned. He tried to lift his hand to block it, but found that it was held firmly by a warm soft hand that interlaced his fingers. Bushy brown hair immediately obscured the worst of the light, as Hermione leaned close, her warm brown eyes, luminous with worry, met his.

“Harry?” Leaning even closer, Hermione gently brushed the hair off his forehead with her right hand, and placed a soft kiss on his scar.

“H’mione?” Harry looked up at her blurrily, his tongue thick

Hermione let go of his hand and gently wrapped her arms around his shoulder, hugging him. Keeping one arm behind him, she reached over and brought a glass if water to his lips, and held as Harry drank. The glass was returned, and a vial of potion appeared.

“Professor Snape said you had to drink this as soon as you woke up.”

Harry knew it was the Phoenix tear potion and drank it obediently, grimacing as he swallowed the bitter liquid. “Ugh, why can’t he make it taste better?” He grumbled hoarsely.

“How do you feel, Harry?”

“Better, I think,” Harry sat up gingerly, with Hermione’s help. His head felt better, but his left arm and shoulder were still very sore. He found he could move his left hand, but not the arm. “Where is everyone?”

“Ginny relieved Snape early this morning, they are taking both taking naps; Ron just ran up to check on Remus; and I think everyone else is at lunch,” Hermione handed him his glasses, smoothing wrinkles out of the blanket covering him. “Professor Dumbledore said you woke up last night and talked to him and Professor Snape for a few minutes.”

Harry’s hand went to his neck, and he felt for the medallion. “I woke up at around three, and Snape told me that he was the one that gave me this,” he held the out the gold amulet. “Can you believe that?”

“Really?” Hermione looked startled, watching the Phoenix start to move as Harry held the medallion. “Why would he do that?”

“I dunno, but I think what Malfoy did had effect on Snape.” Harry softly, as he heard footsteps coming their way.

Madame Pomfrey came into view and ended their conversation. She fussed over Harry, checking him with her wand and eased his left arm into a sling. Explaining that the damage done by the caustic poison was being repaired, but the muscles would take a couple more days of healing before he’d be able to use his arm properly. Harry drank the potions he was given and felt relieved when the nurse bustled off to find him food.

Hermione settled back down on the side of his bed as Ron walked back into the hospital wing.

“Harry! How are you feeling, mate?” Ron settled on to the left side of the bed.

“Better, thanks, how’s Remus?”

Ron gave him a relieved smile. “Sleeping soundly in his room, no worse for the wear.”

Ron and Hermione spent the afternoon with him, talking quietly about what had happened and helping him eat the light lunch Madame Pomfrey brought in. Harry dozed off and on, but found someone by his side whenever he woke up. Six days after Christmas, he was allowed to return to the Gryffindor Tower, his arm still sore but otherwise whole and healthy.

The New Year came and went without fanfare. The teenagers welcoming in the start of the New Year snuggled in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room with whispers, giggles, and a fair amount of cuddling and snogging. Dobby had seen to it that they had butterbeers and cakes to snack on and the adults left them alone to celebrate.

Two days after the start of the year, Harry resumed his lessons with Remus in the Room of Requirement. It was ten days since the incident on Christmas and Harry was feeling almost back to normal, his left arm just a little stiff still. Starting him on rudimentary stretching movements with special emphasis on his arms and shoulders, Remus was explaining to Harry that he needed to make sure his body as well as his mind was ready, when the door opened. Professor Dumbledore entered the room his deep purple robes embroidered with silver crescent moons, and gave them both a smile, his eyes twinkling.

“Remus, Harry, I need you in my office in an hour for a meeting,” and the older man swept back out the door.

Harry exchanged glances with Remus, and they quickly went through Legilimens practice, before they left together for the Headmaster’s office. Harry’s hand went to the heavy gold chain around his neck, the feel of the warm metal reassuring.

“Remus, Snape told me that the Phoenix medallion had special properties for helping to focus wandless magic. Can I learn how to do that?” Harry asked his godfather.

“Professor Snape, Harry, we can ask him about it,” Remus stopped in front of the gargoyle. “Toffee.” Watching the statue jump aside, the two proceeded up to Dumbledore’s office.

Pushing open the door, Harry was surprised to see many occupied chairs lined up in front of the Headmaster’s desk. He looked from face to face, dropping his jaw in surprise; Mister and Mrs. Weasley stood talking to Bill and Tonks; Hagrid was by the window deep in conversation with Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt; Professors McGonagall, Flintwick, and Snape stood behind Dumbledore sitting at his desk; and Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat in the chairs arranged in front of the desk, with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom.

“Luna! Neville!” Harry exclaimed with a broad smile as he came in, and made his way over to sit in the empty chair next to Ginny.

“Hello, Harry, did you have a good Christmas?” Luna said in her ethereal voice, large eyes dreamily turning to look at him.

“Yeah, it was great!” Harry said automatically.

“Remus, if you would seal the door with a silencing charm,” Professor Dumbledore swept the faces in front of his with a twinkling blue gaze. “Thank you,” he said as Remus walked to stand beside Hagrid.

Dumbledore surveyed the room over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “I have asked all of you here this afternoon to discuss the very grave situation that we find ourselves in. Since the start of the Christmas holidays, there have been attempts on the lives of both Harry and Professor Snape,” Neville gasped. “With the start of the new term, I am afraid there will be more attempts, whether to injure or abduct, at the orders of Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, every one of us is a potential target as well.”

“Each of you in this room has proven yourselves loyal to both Harry, and myself; each of you has at one point or another, been in the position to lay your lives down for either of us, or each other. I trust each and every one of you with my life, but more importantly, I trust you with Harry’s life.”

Harry frowned, looking up at the white haired man, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“And I know that Harry would not hesitate for a moment to lay down his life for any one of you. If fact, he has done just that on numerous occasions, and while he may not believe so, Harry is the most critical person in the fight to defeat Voldemort.”

“Is that what the Prophecy says, Professor Dumbledore?” Luna asked quietly her normally dreamy voice sharp with awareness.

Blue eyes sought out emerald green and with their approval, Dumbledore continued. “Yes, Luna, this is what the Prophecy says. For those of you in the room who don’t know, a Prophecy was made before Harry was born which said he would be the one with the power to defeat Voldemort.”

Harry dropped his head, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes staring unseeing at the black cloth of his robes. His hand came up to his neck and he pulled the heavy medallion from inside his clothes, his finger smoothing over the scarlet Phoenix. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could swear that the gold grew warmer in his hand, and the stroking motion seemed to have a calming effect.

“Luna and Neville, you proved your loyalties and abilities, as have Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, last June in the Department of Mysteries. Therefore, your parents and guardians have given their permission for those underage witches and wizards here, to join the Order of the Phoenix, abet as limited participants. This was agreed on and accepted by a vote of the Order,” Dumbledore paused, and Harry raised his head, meeting the twinkling blue eyes. “Well, Harry?”

“Yeah, I mean, yes, sir!” Harry could hear his words echoed by all of his friends sitting around him.

“Very well, the group represented here will be the core members that are charged with providing protection for Harry and each other. Tomorrow, every member of the DA who is willing has been invited back to Hogwarts a week early from the holidays to start advanced training, along with the student members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, you will continue your own advanced magical training with your friends, and we will be working with Luna and Neville to bring them up to speed. “Dumbledore met each of their eyes solemnly. “You all must remember that there must be absolute secrecy about the Order as well as the training you are receiving, and especially, complete secrecy regarding Harry’s training and magical abilities. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the teenagers all answered at once.

“There is some concern regarding your returning classmates,” Alastor Moody spoke up. “We have reason to suspect that some students have been indoctrinated by their own parents, and pressed into service for You-know-who.”

Harry and the others turned their heads to look at Moody, whose magical eye was bouncing from face to face.

“It is safe to assume that the children of known Death Eaters will be looking for any opportunity to make some kind of move against Potter and his friends, but know that there are those of the Houses other than Slytherin who may be in the service of the Dark Lord,” Severus Snape added, a harsh edge to his voice.

“Yes, Snape is correct, you must assume that anyone could prove a threat, especially given the Death Eaters fondness for the Imperius Curse and Polyjuice Potion. Report anything or anyone who is acting out of the ordinary, no matter how insignificant the observation,” Moody instructed.

“Yes, sir,” the teenagers again responded together.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry sat on the edge of his chair, his eyes focus on the black clad figure standing just behind the Headmaster. “May I ask Professor Snape to join in my training?” Harry thought he caught a glimmer of surprise in the onyx eyes that came to rest on him. “If you are willing, Professor, I would appreciate it.”

“As you wish, Mister Potter, I will assist in your training,” Snape’s words came out sneeringly, but there was not malice in the tone.

“Very good, Severus, thank you,” Dumbledore said with a delighted smile. “One last thing, I want you to stick together, and not to venture out alone at any time. No walking the corridors at night for any reason, not even with an invisibility cloak,” the Headmaster speared Harry with a sharp look. “The war has started, and we are in the front lines, you all must remember that.”

The Hogwarts Express was scheduled to pull into Hogsmeade station by mid-afternoon, having left Kings Cross at eight that morning, pulling just two cars full of DA member students coming back a week early from Christmas break, at the invitation of Albus Dumbledore. Harry Potter could not see the train from where he and Ron stood in the Owlery of Hogwarts School, but knew that it would arrive soon. The few remaining students who stayed for the holidays had been taken into Hogsmeade as a treat while the train arrived. The best friends were there to find Ron’s tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, or Pig, as the little bird was called, so he could send a letter to his twin brothers. Harry’s snowy-white owl Hedwig flew down and landed on his shoulder, her amber eyes blinking at him serenely. Harry laughed and gave her the owl treat that he’d brought with him.

With a twitter, Pig emerged from between to large brown school barn owls, where he had been sleeping. He swooped down towards Ron, skimming the top of his head before shooting past and out the window.

“Hey! Get back here you bloody useless bird!” Ron yelled as he lost sight of the owl.

Laughing, Harry stroked Hedwig’s head. “Why don’t you just use Hedwig, Ron, she’s faster anyway.”

Hedwig seemed to agree and held out her leg as Ron attached a small roll of parchment, grumbling under his breath all the time. Pig came flying back in the window as Hedwig took off gracefully, hovering in front of Ron, twittering excitedly.

“You are a bloody menace! Go on now, take off!” Ron shooed the owl away as Harry followed him out the door of the Owlery, still chuckling.

The two were dressed in muggle jeans and jumpers, and headed down toward the Great Hall.

“Hey, Harry?” Ron turned to look at him. “You really okay with all this?”

Harry frowned in confusion, stopping on a landing. “What do you mean ‘all of this’?” He looked at the serious expression on his best friend’s freckled face.

“Well, the whole Prophecy thing, mate, heaped on top of Sirius…you know.” Harry could see the concern in Ron’s eyes.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Harry was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase an honest response. “When I first went to the Dursleys last June, I was feeling pretty bad, blaming myself for Sirius dying, not wanting to eat or sleep much, but the night that Remus came to get me, that was the same night I first ‘talked’ to Sirius. Since then, I’ve had you guys and Remus with me, and we’ve been busy learning so much, that I haven’t had time to dwell on it.” He gave Ron a sheepish grin. “I was a little stressed the night before Voldemort attacked though, and both Sirius and Remus yelled at me.”

Ron frowned at him. “Why’d they do that?”

“I kind of told them that I was just going to fight it out with Voldemort, just get it over with.” Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

Ron grabbed him by the shoulders. “You said what?!”

“I didn’t do it, Ron! I wouldn’t have, I was just really tired of my scar hurting so bad all the time more than anything.” Harry grabbed Ron’s wrists, and looked at him apologetically. “Alright?”

Ron pinned him with a steely look. “Don’t ever even think of going after that…after him alone, Harry, promise me.”

Harry nodded at him. “I promise, mate.”

Satisfied, Ron dropped his hands and they continued down to the next landing. They made their way down to the Entrance Hall, where the great oak doors stood open to the cold, snowy outside. The sound of clanking chains and rattling carriages could be heard through the open doors.

“Oh no, the carriages are here already!” Harry pushed Ron forward. “You need to get out there, and I’ll go get Snape from his office.” Harry sprinted down the stairs leading to the dungeons, running all the way, knowing that they were going to be late. He skidded to a stop in front of the open office door, and was glad to see Snape sitting behind his desk.

Severus Snape glanced up from his work and arched an eyebrow at the panting Gryffindor standing in front of him. “Are we under attack, Mister Potter?” He asked softly, his voice an even questioning tone.

“The carriages are here already, sir!” Harry panted out, rubbing at the stitch in his side. “I didn’t want us to be late, Professor.”

Snape glared at him and waved him into the chair in front of the desk. Harry dropped in to it, taking deep breathes and struggling to quiet his thumping heart.

“Am I to understand that despite the pivotal role which you play in this situation, that you are concerned about being tardy?” The question came out as a sneer, and Harry looked up at the Potions Master with a puzzled expression.

“Well, yes, I don’t want to be late, Professor?” Harry told him, clearly not understanding. “Why would I want to be late, sir, wouldn’t that be rude?”

Unreadable black eyes studied him for a moment, and Snape stood, smoothing down the front of his robes.

“Yes, Potter, that would indeed be rude and very attention grabbing behavior.” He moved around the desk to stand beside Harry. “You continue to be an enigma, Mister Potter, causing me to reevaluate prior conceptions. Shall we go?”

Harry frowned as he got up, trying to figure out whether Snape had just said something good about him or something bad. With a shrug of his shoulders, he decided it wasn’t enough to worry about, and followed the black clad figure to the Great Hall at a brisk walk.

A second long table had been set up next to the first in the Great Hall, still resplendent in its holiday decorations. Harry was thrilled to see all of the members of the DA had chosen to return early, and were already seated at one of the tables with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Hurrying towards them, he left Professor Snape standing in the doorway as he moved to say hello to everyone. Sitting down beside Ginny, Harry threw an arm around her as he joined in the laughter around the table.

“May I have your attention?” Albus Dumbledore stood at the top of the tables, glancing around at the returning students and the members of the inner guard at the second table. “Harry, would you join me please?” Harry made his way up to stand beside the Headmaster, who waved his hand and sealed the doors to the Great Hall.

“Thank you all for agreeing to come back to Hogwarts a week early. Since you left here, the have been serious attempts on the lives of both Harry and Professor Snape, one by an Auror who was in service to Lord Voldemort, and one that was aided by a student, also in the service of Voldemort.” Harry could hear the audible gasps as the information sunk in. “In light of this, we need to make sure that Hogwarts remains safe for both the students and the staff, but particularly for these two, who have already been targeted.” Dumbledore swept his gaze over the assembled students. “You have been asked here not only to learn advanced magical skills, but because you have proved your loyalty to both Harry and I in the past year and a half, and are in the best position to help ensure his and each others safety. This will truly be Dumbledore’s Army, and if there is anyone who is not prepared to accept there will be danger inherent in this can leave now without repentance.”

The Headmaster paused, waiting for the warning to sink in, but no one moved. “Very good, you all make me very proud. Harry will continue to instruct you, with the help of Professor Lupin and Professor Snape. There will be morning sessions beginning at nine each morning and afternoon sessions at one, in the Room of Requirement. Please remember that there must be complete secrecy in what we are doing, but that anyone in this room will always be available to you, if you need us.” He smiled at them all. “Thank you, now let us eat.”

The member of the DA disbursed after dinner to get settled into their dorms. Remus tapped Harry on the shoulder and a beckoning finger as he stood talking to Ron and Neville near the door to the Great Hall. With a quick word of goodbye, Harry followed his guardian up the stairs in comfortable silence. It soon became clear to Harry that they were headed towards the Room of Requirement.

“Training?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yes, we haven’t done any since the holidays started, and you requested this.” Remus pulled open the door and ushered Harry in front of him.

Harry stopped just inside the door, surprise seeping through him as he took in the long barren space the room had provided. He was somewhat startled to find Professor Snape prowling along the far edge of the room, his customary flowing robes replaced with close-fitting soft black trouser and a long sleeved black shirt.

“Harry.” Albus Dumbledore moved to stand beside him, a hand resting on his left shoulder.

Harry smiled as he met the twinkling blue eyes. “Sir.”

“We thought we’d see how well you did channeling your magic through that magnificent medallion, my boy, so we can assess what direction we need to go in with your training.” Dumbledore gestured a hand toward Snape and moved to stand next to Remus by the Door.

“Mister Potter.” Snape’s voice was neutral, neither welcoming nor snarling. “Please remove any extraneous clothing.”

Harry blinked, deciphered the meaning, and then pulled his green Weasley jumper over his head and tossed it to Remus. Clad in a black t-shirt and muggle jeans, he moved further into the room, until he stood beside the Potions Master, who immediately maneuvered them into the middle of the room, facing away from the door. Harry’s fingers went to his neck and he drew the medallion out from underneath his shirt. His fingers lingered on the warm metal and the Phoenix flexed its wings.

“We are attempting to evaluate specifically your ability to focus, channel, and control your magical abilities without the use of a wand, Potter. In order to do this, I need to have you try several different types of magic. You will do precisely as instructed, and follow my direction to the letter, in that understood, Mister Potter?”

Harry frowned for an instant, not sure he liked the Potions Master having total control, but remembered the conversation in the hospital wing, and attempted to calm his worries. “Yes, sir.” Looking up, his eyes locked for a moment with the glittering onyx eyes of Severus Snape. A feeling of trust passed between them, given, accepted, and given back. Harry relaxed as Snape nodded once and moved around to stand behind him.

“At the far end of the room, is a quaffle. I want you to close your eyes, and without moving or speaking, I want you to lift the quaffle in the air and make it circle around us.”

Harry closed his eyes as instructed, and concentrated on making the red ball move, but nothing happened. With a frown, he snapped his eyes open. Glaring at the quaffle sitting on the floor, he was encouraged that it seemed to be quiver slightly. Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize the ball flying around the room, but still nothing happened.

“Harry, close your eyes.” Snape’s voice was a low murmur, and Harry felt the man take hold of his shoulders, the long fingers gripping lightly. “Reach inside yourself and visualize your magical core as a living, pulsing energy force. Can you feel it?”

Harry closed his eyes again, and relaxed. He cleared his mind of all his thoughts and anxieties, concentrating on the low voice. Turning inward he focused on his magic, envisioning a ball of golden light inside his chest, and nodded his head fractionally.

“Good. Now focus on your magic, draw it up through your body, and use the medallion as you would your wand to focus and direct your magic at the quaffle. Can you do that?’

Envisioning a stand of golden magic being pulled up from the globe of light, Harry carefully focused on pushing it out through the Phoenix at the red ball across the room. Eyes still closed, he pictured the beam of magic enveloping the quaffle, lifting it and propelling it in a lazy circle around them.

“Concentrate, now open your eyes.”

Slowly opening his eyes, Harry looked toward the ball, but it wasn’t there. Just then, the quaffle slowly pasted his eyes as it revolved around them. He started and gasped, the ball dropping to the floor instantly.

“Potter!” Snape’s voice was harsh, but the steady, gentle hands on his shoulders belayed the tone.

Instantly, Harry closed his eyes again and refocused. He visualized the globe, the strand of magic, the Phoenix, and the quaffle in rapid succession. He felt the ball circling them again lazily, he focused, and slowly opened his eyes, grinning as the quaffle flew by.

“Good. Now, what else can you make it do?” Snape’s voice was once again a low murmur.

Encouraged, Harry made the quaffle speed up, and sent it looping the room in tight spirals. He kept the quaffle moving for several minutes, until he felt the fingers tighten slightly on his shoulders. Harry set the quaffle back down at the far end of the room. Looking up, he waited silently for the next instructions.

Over the next half hour, using the same methods of visualizing and directing, Harry was able to transfigure the quaffle into a table, turn it purple, and shrink in to the size of an apple. He then turned it into a tall candle. As he was trying to send an incendiary curse at it to light it, Harry was starting to feel tired, and was not having as much success. On the third try, a throb went through his scar, and Harry stiffened. Snape had dropped his hands and had taken a step back as Harry went through the transfiguration exercises. He stepped back up close again and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“Do you want to stop now or take a break? Wandless magic is more tiring than regular magic.” His voice was pitched low again.

Harry shook his head. “No, I’d like to try again, sir.”

“Alright, Potter, but don’t let it frustrate you to the point of anger, as I have experienced what your magic can do when you are angry, and we have accomplished much already tonight.”

Harry cleared his mind and drew his focus to the golden ball of magic, drawing out a strand of magic, and had just sent it through the Phoenix, when his scar exploded in white-hot pain. The room tilted and went black as he felt himself falling back.

The night had a red hue as he watched the carnage spread in front of him, blood blended with water from spewing pipes, and red spell light flashed. Screams rented the night air as he watched his newest followers rape and torture like a benevolent benefactor, laughing in delight as the front of the building exploded in flame. The Dark Mark shimmered like green stars overhead, and he laughed maniacally even as pain arrowed through him.

Hands caught at him and he fought against them, the cold laughter still ringing in his ears, his head searing with unbelievable pain and his scar on fire.

“Harry!”

He struggled to latch on to the familiar voice like a lifeline to sanity, his body held immobile from head to toe, but safe his instincts told him. Trying to bank the fire that threatened to engulf his mind, Harry dredged up the strength to trust the hands, and turned inward, summoning the trill of Phoenix song. The laughter shifted to despair as he smoothed the walls, checking his defenses and vaguely felt the long cool fingers brush across his forehead as awareness seeped in.

Shakily, Harry drew in a trembling breath that broke on a sob, and he relaxed into the warmth of the arms that were holding him secure. His stomach churched as images relayed behind his closed eyes. He pushed away as his stomach heaved, and one set of arms released him, and caught at his shoulders from the front, directing them to the side as the second set continued to support him. He retched painfully, his head pounding, and his body trembling.

“Easy, Harry, we’ve got you, just relax.”

His breath hitching on another sob, Harry forced his eyes open to find himself sprawled across Remus’ lap, Snape knelt beside them, holding his shoulders, as the Headmaster stood over them, a hand resting on Harry’s head. Giving in to the warmth, Harry sagged into his godfather’s chest, burying his face. Comforting hands rubbed gentle circles between his shoulders, as he felt Remus tighten his hold.

Renewed horror had Harry pushing away from the warmth seconds later, gasping. “Professor, he’s in London.,.” Harry looked up at Dumbledore.

“Tell me what you saw, Harry.” Dumbledore told him quietly, concern darkening his blue eyes, the long fingers gently stroking his hair in the manner that Harry found calming.

“At a club, where muggles go to dance…they were hurting people, torturing them for fun, but that was only after they had destroyed the flats above the club…wizard flats.” Harry shuddered, looking up. “Percy Weasley was in one of the apartments…” His voice was strained. “And Voldemort was celebrating the induction of his newest followers.” Harry turned his head, his anguished green eyes seeking out Snape. “The sons of his inner circle were allowed to have…fun with the muggles, raping and killing…”

Dumbledore’s hand stilled on his head. “Thank you, Harry, I must go, but I want you to tell Remus and Severus as much detail as you can.” He was gone in a swish of robes.

Harry closed his eyes and sagged again, willing his body to stop shaking, as the pain in his head eased fractionally. He breathed deeply, in and out.

“Let’s get him up, Remus.”

Harry found himself hoisted to his feet by Snape, who steadied him while his guardian stood. A black leather couch appeared, and Harry was eased down on it. Remus summoned his jumper from across the room, sitting beside him and helped Harry struggle into it.

“Drink this, it should help.” Harry looked up as the Potion Master held a vial of pale blue potion to his lips, and he drank it obediently. Almost instantly, his stomach settled, the throbbing in his head eased, and he felt the shakiness leave.

“Thank you, sir, it does help.” Harry told the dark haired man as he leaned into Remus’ side.

“Good, I’ll brew enough then to have on hand for you. Snape conjured a wing-backed chair, and pulled it in front of the couch.

Remus put his arm around Harry’s shoulder as he took a deep breath and relayed his vision to the two men in as much detail as he could remember. Faltering over the description of the violent acts he had witnessed, he doggedly pushed on. At Snape’s quiet promoting, Harry described the hooded figures in best he could as to how they were built and mannerisms.

“Yes, I believe that would be Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Malfoy.” Snape nodded. “They were not happy when I told the House before the holidays that anyone who took the Dark Mark would be expelled, and that I would be checking them when they got back. Interesting.” He fell silent and appeared lost in thought.

Harry glanced over the older man’s shoulder and was surprised to see the far end of the room appeared charred. His eyes flew back to Snape.

“It would seem that your last attempt to light the candle has a bit too much power behind it, Potter, but the Room will repair the damage to itself.”

Leaving the Room of Requirement, they made their way to the Headmaster’s office, where Harry was surprised to find a somber Professor McGonagall and a tray of tea waiting for them. Taking one of the three chairs in front of the desk, Harry had barely seated himself before the empty fireplace flared with emerald-green flame and Albus Dumbledore stepped gracefully out. With a grim set to his face, the Headmaster moved to sit down behind his desk.

“Ten dead and many injured both muggles and wizards.” Dumbledore stated wearily. “The muggle authorities have been persuaded to believe that this was the work of Irish terrorists, and the Aurors are still on scene.” He looked at Harry over the half-moon spectacles, the normal twinkle in the blue eyes noticeably absent. “Young Percy has been seriously injured, but is expected to recover.”

Harry felt numb with relief, knowing what it would do to Mrs. Weasley if something had happened to her estranged son.

“Molly and Arthur are with him at St. Mungo’s, Harry.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Albus Dumbledore looked around the room, his eyes coming to rest on Harry. “Lord Voldemort has started his campaign of terror in earnest, and is clearing looking to terrify both the muggle and magical worlds. We must be prepared to protect Hogwarts and its students against an inevitable attack, whether from within or from the outside.”

Harry shivered at the finality of the older man’s tone.

Harry sagged wearily into a chair set near the door of the Room of Requirement and closed his eyes. The past three days were a blur of frenzied activities that started with having to tell Ron and Ginny that their brother laid critically injured in the wake of an attack on the heart of London by Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore had hooked the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room up to the floo network at St. Mungo’s, which allowed for fire calling but was still guarded against any person flooing in. Ron and Ginny were able to speak to their mum and dad, getting updates on Percy’s condition. Harry and Hermione had sat up all night with them; the members of the Order of the Phoenix at Hogwarts had immediately Apparated from Hogsmeade in the aftermath of the attack.

Percy Weasley was out of danger and expected to fully recover from the injuries he received at the hands of the Death Eaters. Relieved, Harry plunged into assisting with the DA training sessions each morning and afternoon. In between, he managed to practice his Occlumency, and did additional training in the evening with his guardian and Professor Snape. Both men seemed pleased with his progress in wandless and channeled magic, which was to say Remus praised him and Snape could find nothing to sneer about.

Closing his eyes, Harry rubbed absently at the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Since his vision Sunday evening, Harry’s sleep had been disturbed by vague, undefined images colored by green and red flashes. At the same time, his scar had also started to prickle and ache constantly, with an accompanying feeling of apprehension that Harry knew meant Voldemort was planning something, but he could not grasp anything specific. It all added up to feeling exhausted, frustrated, and effectively killed his appetite.

It was Wednesday afternoon now, and Harry had managed only snatches of sleep here and there, and could not remember the last meal he’d eaten. Perhaps he would ask Madame Pomfrey for a little Dreamless Sleep potion after dinner and just go to bed early. As much as he hated the idea, Harry knew he could not properly clear his mind if he didn’t sleep, and he would be dangerously vulnerable to Voldemort if that happened.

Opening his eyes, he looked around at the groups of DA members gathered in various spots around the Room of Requirement. Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, and Severus Snape were each working with a group on their Patronus Charms. With the Dementors under Voldemort’s control now, everyone needed to be able to repel them. Remus had scoured the castle for a boggart, and it had been transported to the room in an old chest, which stood next to Harry’s chair. Harry was going to open it and bring out a Dementor for the DA students to try their Patronus’ on. He shivered as a chill walked down his spine, knowing that his mind would be repeatedly assaulted by the sounds of his parents’ deaths.

He might as well get his own practice session in first, Harry thought, as he stood and stepped into position in front of the chest. One never knew when Voldemort would raise his ugly head, and Harry needed to be ready, not to mention that he loved to see the silver stag that erupted from the end of his wand. It was like seeing a bit of his dad whenever he saw it. With a wave of his hand, Harry unlatched the lid of the old chest and held his wand ready.

The lid flew up and a black robed, black hooded figure emerged from the depths, red-slit eyes glowed in a flat reptilian face, and abnormally long skeleton-like fingers reach out at him, as Harry fell back a step, horrified.

“Potter!”

The shout barely registered as Voldemort unfolded from the chest, and Harry barely saw the black clad arm that came up across his chest as Snape jumped in front of him. In the back corner of his tired mind, Harry noted that the boggart did not change shape as it turned to face the Potion Master.

“Riddiculus!”

Voldemort was suddenly wearing a pink tutu and pink ballet slippers as it collapsed back into the chest with a flick of Snape’s wand. The older man rounded on Harry with a thunderous expression, as Remus materialized at his side. The entire room had fallen silent, and Harry could feel all eyes on him, knowing he had just given many in the room their first glimpse of the Dark Lord.

“What do you think you are doing?” Snape spat through clenched teeth.

“It was supposed to be a Dementor, sir.” Harry said, a bit bewildered at the trick his mind had planned on him. “I was just thinking about Vol…You-Know-Who, and I guess that was why the boggart chose that form.” He sighed, eyes dropping to the floor as he again rubbed his forehead.

“Scar hurting again, Harry?” Remus asked quietly, and Harry knew his godfather could see what he’d been trying to hide.

“Yeah, that achy prickling like I had before, about Fred and George.”

His godfather grabbed his elbow and pulled his arm down with a firm grip. Harry looked up at him, resigned, the Potion Master still glowering at him over Remus’ shoulder.

“Sleeping?” Lupin nailed him with a piercing gaze worthy of Snape himself.

“Some.” Harry countered, flushing. He knew his guardian was looking closely at the dark circles under his eyes.

“Eating?”

Harry scowled at him, feeling like a reprimanded five year old. “When I can, Remus…”

“Hermione, will you and Cho escort Harry down to the kitchens and see that he eats something, please.” Remus cut him off smoothly, smiling at the girls. “Both of you have the best Patronus’ in the DA, so I think you can miss a bit of this practice.”

Turning on his heel, Harry stormed out of the room, his face burning. The rational portion of his brain told him that his godfather was just trying to look after him, but the cranky five-year-old portion wanted to throw a fit. He settled for stomping down the staircases, savagely grumbling threats against no one in particular under his breath, ignoring the stifled snickers behind him.

Dobby was, as usual, delighted to see Harry Potter in the kitchens, and soon had him eating a steaming bowl of rich stew and fresh crusty bread. Harry found it hard to stay in a bad mood with Dobby chattering away happily at his side. Hermione’s eyes twinkled as she sipped her cup of tea and Cho had a rather bemused expression on her face as she nibbled on a lemon biscuit, watching the house elf. Harry was surprised to find his bowl empty and his stomach pleasantly full as he laughed at the enthusiastic response from Dobby.

“You is coming back soon, Harry Potter? Coming back to see Dobby?” Asked the diminutive creature as he hugged Harry around the waist, when they prepared to leave the kitchens, their pockets stuffed full of cakes and sweets, the other house elves crowded around.

“Yes, Dobby, I promise!” Harry assured him as the three students backed out of the room.

Hermione looped her arm through Harry’s as they made their way up out of the kitchens, and across the Entrance Hall. Cho was telling Harry about the Tornadoes Quidditch match she had gone to over the holidays. Harry was glad they had managed to salvage a friendship out of the disastrous relationship of their fifth year, but knew that Cho still resented Hermione, and the two of them would never be more than acquaintances.

As they started up the staircase to the second floor, Harry stumbled as a throb of fresh pain seared through his scar. Grabbing his upper arm with both of her hands, Hermione steadied him and Harry grimaced at another wave of pain.

“Harry James Potter, don’t you dare throw up that stew!” Harry tried to smile, knowing that Hermione had gone through this too many times with him to be panicked. “You are too thin as it is.”

Harry continued to smile in spite of the pain that was making his eyes water. A wave of apprehension surged through him. “Cho, will you please go back up to the Room of Requirement and let Remus know that I am going to Dumbledore’s office please?”

Cho nodded and took off immediately, jogging up the staircase to the left, as eHHHH

Hermione steered Harry up towards the right. They silently made their way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s office, Harry’s eyes screwed up and streaming from the pain.

“Pepper Imps.”

The gargoyle shifted aside and they stepped on to the moving staircase. Albus Dumbledore stood waiting for them in the doorway of his office, and ushered them inside.

“What is it, Harry?” The bright blue eyes were serious as they took in Harry’s strained, pain-filled face.

Harry slumped into one of the armchairs, Hermione sitting on the arm of the chair.

“Its vague, like that time at Fred and George’s shoppe, but I think Voldemort has sent the Death Eaters out to hurt muggles, sir, like what happened at the Quidditch World Cup my fourth year.” Harry’s emerald green eyes were haunted as he met the blue. “He is rewarding them, for their raid on London.” He paused, trying to read the alien feelings pouring through him. “I think Duckville is a target, as is…” Harry’s eyes widened. “Surrey, I think. I think he is sending them to Little Whinging, sir!” A feeling of panic started to well up inside him, he may not like the Dursleys very much, but they were all he had in the way of a family. Harry took a deep breath and pushed the feeling away, cleared his mind and smoothed the walls.

The Headmaster put a hand on his shoulder. “The protective zones around the house on Privet Drive will keep your relatives safe, Harry, as long as they remain inside. Is there anything else that you feel, anywhere else we need to go?”

“No, sir, those are the only two places that have come through clearly.”

“Alright, my boy, wait here until Remus collects you both. I must go to alert the Order.” Dumbledore was gone in a flash of green flame.

Harry sighed, and leaned his head against Hermione, who patted his back gently. They both knew that as soon as Voldemort received news on the muggle raids, that Harry would be the first to know.

“Harry?” Remus stood in the doorway with Snape behind him. “Are you okay, son?”

“Yeah, just this stupid scar, as usual.” Harry grumbled. “And the real pain hasn’t even hit yet.” He and Hermione stood up and walked to the door.

“Severus has an excellent suggestion. Harry.” Remus moved aside and Snape stepped forward.

“We have canceled your lesson for this evening, Potter, in light of the circumstances. You are to return to the Gryffindor Tower, take these potions and go immediately to bed.” The Potions Master handed Harry two vials from his pocket, one he recognized as the potion Snape had brewed to help when his scar hurt, but the other was unfamiliar.

“What is it, sir? He asked politely.

“It is a variation of the Draught of Dreamless Sleep, Mister Potter, which should enable you to get a full night sleep.” Snape managed to turn the perfectly acceptable answer into a sneer.

“Thank you, sir. I guess I’ll head back to the dormitory then.” Harry walked past the men with Hermione behind him, and they walked in silence back to the deserted common room.

Climbing the stairs wearily, Harry went right up to the dorm. Hermione kept him company as Harry, for once, did exactly what he was supposed to. He was asleep before Hermione left the room.

Early morning light had started to spill the dorm when Harry woke up the next morning. Quietly, he dressed in a jumper and jeans, making his way to the Great Hall. Despite the early hour, he found most of the staff already seated at the table.

“Good morning, Harry.” Professor Dumbledore waved him over, as Remus and Moody muttered greetings, Snape did not look up from his breakfast.

“Any news, sir?” Harry asked as he side in beside Remus.

“Unfortunately, Harry, there is, and not much of it good. In three separate attacks, six muggles were killed and several others brutalized by Death Eaters.” Dumbledore said heavily, his face looking lined and tired. “Four of those were in Little Whinging; a family named Polkiss was tortured and killed. The protective fields around Privet drive were not breach, and as far as I know, your relatives are uninjured.”

“Piers Polkiss was my cousin’s best friend, sir, so it would appear that someone other than the Order is watching Privet drive.” Harry said quietly, knowing that the Dursleys would hold him personally responsible for this too.

“Yes, I would have to agree.” Albus Dumbledore said softly, lapsing into thoughtful silence.

The day followed the same pattern as the previous days had with DA sessions and extra training for Harry in the evening, as did the next. Professor Snape had given Harry a small black leather bag that held six vials of potion, three of the sleeping draft and three of the special potion he had developed for Harry’s scar pain. Taking one of each potion again Thursday and Friday nights, Harry finally felt rested when he woke up Saturday morning.

The day had dawned crisp and sunny, the snow thick on the ground around the castle, sparkling in the sunlight. Their special lessons now over, the members of the DA and the few remaining students had gotten permission for an impromptu Quidditch match. They had all promised to be careful, and those who weren’t playing would be standing guard, along with Remus and any of the other staff who cared to join them. Harry felt a surge of pride at the group of fellow students who had committed themselves to the DA, and how they had come together as a team.

They divided into teams of red and blue, with seven players flying out from each team. Switching players at twenty minute intervals with those sitting on the sidelines gave everyone several opportunities to play. No one was really keeping score, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, including Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape. Along the outside of the pitch, several of the younger students started a snowball fight, and soon the players where dodging those as well as the bludgers as they played. Harry jumped to his feet and cheered the loudest as Ginny finally caught the snitch just before lunch time.

The laughing mob of students made their way back up to the Great Hall, where the older students showed off by casting drying and warming charms on themselves and the others. Hot cocoa and spiced cider sat waiting for them at the tables and lunch appeared as they seated themselves. Harry drug Ginny by the hand to their usually seats and anchored her to his side with an arm around her waist as they ate. Instead of separating to individual common rooms, wizard chess sets and exploding playing cards were retrieved, and the boisterous teenagers stayed in the Great Hall for the afternoon.

As he laid down that night, Harry felt pleasantly tired, and decided not to take the sleeping potion, instead only taking the potion that would minimize the pain if his scar began to hurt. Engaging in one last round of pillow fights with his dorm mates, the five teens settled into sleep, snow again falling gently outside the window of the Gryffindor Tower.

Torches lit the stone walls of the chamber, a short ratty wizard crawled on his knees towards his feet. Growing impatient at the over-done display of submission, Harry could feel his anger rise.

“Crucio! You will learn to do what I tell you immediately, Wormtail” He released the curse. “Get over here! It is time to summon my faithful.”

Whimpering, Wormtail scurried the last few feet and held his left arm up to his Lord as Voldemort pressed a long skeleton-white finger to the Dark Mark branded on Pettigrew’s arm. The little man scrambled back to his accustomed place in the circle that would form around his master. It was only a minute before the first of the Death Eaters Apparated in to place in the circle, in five minutes all were there, the last arrival being treated to a session of the Cruciatus Curse.

“It is time, my faithful Death Eaters, to join with a few of our new allies, and strike fear at the very heart of the wizarding world. Let us hope that your own children are smart enough to stay out of the way when the time comes.” Voldemort laughed, his high cold laughter rebounding off the wall of the stone chamber.

Harry jerked up in bed, his scar on fire and his hands trembling, but able to function. He took a moment to orient himself to the room, grabbed his glasses, and sent a prayer of thanks to the stars for Severus Snape and his potion making abilities. It appeared to be about five in the morning, the dawn had not yet breeched the horizon. Throwing his legs over the side of his four-poster, he grabbed a pair of jeans.

“Ron! Get up, mate! Now!” He reached over and shook the red head as he struggled into the pants. “Neville! Seamus! Dean! Get UP!” Harry ran from bed to bed, shaking his dorm mates awake. Thrusting his head into a jumper, Harry shoved his feet into his trainers and grabbed his black cloak, as well as his invisibility cloak. Making sure he had his wand and his pendant, he turned to Ron, who was sitting up blinking at him.

“Get all of the DA up and dressed for combat, Ron, Voldemort is planning on hitting King’s Cross. I am going to Dumbledore’s office, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall.” With that, Harry was out the door and down the stairs.

Sprinting, he made it to the gargoyle in a couple of minutes. “Peppermint Bark.” He gasped out, his breath hitching and the stone guardian moved aside. Harry ran up the moving stairs and burst through the office door, causing Fawkes to fly off his stand.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry ran behind the large desk and yelled up the foot of the stairs. “Professor!”

Dumbledore came out the door wearing a snowy-white night shirt and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Harry! What is it?!

“Voldemort just summoned his followers, and told them that they and their ‘allies’ were going to King’s Cross! He asked the Death Eaters if their children were smart enough to stay out of the way.” Harry told him, bitterly.

“I’ll be right down, Harry, wait for me.”

While he was waiting, Harry went to the black cabinet that stood behind the desk, and removed the Pensieve. He sat at the Headmaster’s desk and thinking about the dream he had just had, pulled the shimmering silver strand from his temple and let it fall in to the surface of the stone basin. Turning, he saw Dumbledore coming down the stairs clad is tighter fitting royal blue robes, and got up out of the chair, just as the door was thrown open and Severus Snape strode in, black robes billowing behind him.

“Headmaster!” Snape stopped at the sight of Harry standing by the desk.

“The Dark Mark, Severus?” Dumbledore said as he sat down, beckoning the Potion Master with his hand.

“Yes, Headmaster, it burned brightly about fifteen minutes ago.” The older wizard speared Harry with a glare. “Did you fail to take your potions this evening, Potter?”

“I took the special one you made for me, but I fell asleep with out the sleeping potion.” Harry told the older man truthfully, meeting the dark eyes.

Reaching into his robes, Snape pulled out two more vials of the special potion. “Take one of these just before we get to…”

“King’s Cross.” Harry supplied, watching what little color drain out of Snape’s face.

“King’s Cross and the other if the pain becomes overwhelming, later.”

Taking the vials, Harry put them in the inner pocket of his black cloak, and turned back to the Pensieve, prodding it with the tip of his wand. He watched as they vision replayed for the two men.

“Allies, Severus, what allies do you think he means?” Dumbledore asked quietly as the vision re-played.

“My guess would be the Dementors, Albus.” The Potions Master told him.

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. “Harry, retrieve your dream, we need to go.”

Swirling his wand in the shimmering surface of the Pensieve, Harry extracted the shining strand of memory and returned it to his temple. “My dorm mates were alerting the DA, Professor, and should be waiting in the Great Hall.”

Snape stared to open his mouth to protest when the Headmaster held up his hand. “Harry is right, Severus, we must move quickly, as there is not enough time to convince the Ministry of Magic that an attack is forth coming. We will use the DA to protect the other students on the platform while we and the Order guard the station against attack. Come, both of you, we have to prepare.”

Ron had the DA up and waiting in the Great hall by the time Harry and the Headmaster arrived, having picked up Remus on the way down. Professor Snape had gone to alert the other members of the staff who were part of the Order of the Phoenix. With a clap of his hands, Dumbledore summoned a house-elf and requested a quick breakfast be sent up for everyone. Harry walked over to where Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville stood, taking Ginny’s hand and motioning for them to sit down, and the rest of the students did the same.

“I would like everyone to get something to eat, while we wait for the others to get here. It is going to be a long day, I fear, so eat while you have the chance.” Dumbledore told them as tea, fruit, toast, and porridge appeared before them.

The young people gather ate without speaking; they all knew why they were there. Professors McGonagall, Flintwick, and Sprout arrived with Snape, Moody and Hagrid following them. Seating themselves, they also began to eat at once. Several minutes went by, before the Headmaster was once more on his feet.

“Lord Voldemort has summoned his Death Eaters to gather for an attack on the Hogwarts Express at King’s Cross in about three hours time. It is also suspected that he will have the support of the Dementors in this attack.”

There was a collective gasp around the room.

“The students coming back to school this morning have no ability to repel a Dementor attack, and would be easy prey. Anyone else in the area, parents and innocent muggles as well, would also be easy victims of both the Death Eaters and the Dementors.” He scanned the assembled students. “You have all had advanced training, and have all mastered the Patronus Charm, but I am reluctant to ask you to put your lives on the line. I do know that the teachers here and I would be able to hold the Dementors, but are not enough to deal with the Death Eaters as well. So I am asking those of you who are willing to voluntarily assist…”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Luna Lovegood stood up from her seat between Terry Boot and Hannah Abbott. “We were the ones who asked Harry to train us last year. We are the ones who wanted the ability to protect ourselves, and our friends from You-Know-Who. We are going with you.”

There was a roar of approval from the rest of the members of the DA, and Dumbledore looked at them with pride.

“Alright, finish up your breakfast and we will be leaving in a few minutes.”

The doors to the Great Hall opened again, to admit Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, who went directly to the Headmaster. Harry watched as the tall, bald Auror whispered to the Headmaster, waving his arms and seemed to be agitated.

“I bet the Ministry of Magic wasn’t very receptive when Kingsley told them.” Hermione’s voice was soft in his ear.

Harry looked at her grimly, and nodded. “That would not surprise me.”

They ate quickly and were ready when Professor Dumbledore stood a few minutes later and signaled for quiet.

“I need for you to divide into two groups; those who have the ability to Apparate over some distance, and those who have not yet learned.” The Headmaster looked around the room. “I did not say those who are licensed, I asked for those who had mastered the ability.”

The group divided into two group, with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione in the Apparation group, came Neville, Luna, Alicia Spinnet, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Michael Corner, Cho Chang, and Zacharias Smith. The rest moved to the other end of the table and sat down. Harry and his group were going to portkey to number twelve Grimmauld Place, from where they would Apparate on to platform 9 ¾. The rest of the DA members were going to portkey into the large prefect car on the Hogwarts Express as it came into King’s Cross Station where they would hide.

Time seemed to drag for Harry as the group waited in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, whose stomach was in knots as he paced the room. He could not help but think of the last time he had led a group of fellow students in to an unknown situation based on one of his visions. The last time had resulted in the death of his godfather, and he shuddered to think of someone else being hurt or killed because of him. Sliding down the wall by the fireplace, Harry attempted to clear his mind and practice his Occlumency.

“Harry?”

The slightly hoarse voice of Sirius Black wrapped itself around his consciousness, and Harry found himself sitting on the raised stone dais next to the veiled stone archway in the Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteries. “Hello Sirius.”

“What’s up, kiddo?” Sirius asked quietly.

“We are waiting for Voldemort to launch an attack on King’s Cross, it is the day students return to school after Christmas holidays.”

“And you saw this is a dream, I imagine, so now you are second guessing yourself and remembering the Department of Mysteries, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Harry studied the peeling rubber on the toes of his cross trainers. “I just don’t want anyone else to suffer because of me, Sirius, I still haven’t gotten over what happened with you.” His voice dropped to a pain filled whisper.

“And you know what I have to say on that matter, Harry. Besides, how would you feel if you had this vision, took no action, and kids were hurt or killed?” Sirius asked him.

“You know I would feel terrible and blame myself.” Harry responded.

“So, it’s all your fault either way then, right? Meaning, I guess, that you would have to error on the side of caution, and if Albus Dumbledore had any doubts, you and your friends would not be here, Harry.”

Harry chewed on his lower lip for a moment, lost in thought. “Yes, I suppose you are right, Sirius.”

“Then go, son, and do what you need to do.” Sirius told him. “And good luck.”

“Thanks.” Harry said with a smile.

A hand on his head brought Harry back to awareness in the kitchen, surprised to find that Severus Snape stood beside him, looking down.

“Should I summon the Headmaster, Harry?” The Potion Master asked him quietly.

“No, sir, its alright, just a bit of a pep talk was all.” Harry stood up, and met the dark eyes. Snape studied him for a moment before nodding and moving to stand beside Tonks and Bill Weasley, who had appeared in the kitchen.

Under the direction of Professor Snape, the group at Grimmauld Place Apparated on to the secure platform at King’s Cross just before the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. Stepping back into the shadows, they had themselves positioned and ready when the first students began to appear with their parents. The platform slowly filled up, children running and chasing each other and exchanging goodbyes. Harry had almost thought his vision was a false alarm, until he saw Lucius Malfoy step through the barrier, Draco was no where to be seen.

Malfoy moved on to the platform, scanning the area slowly, before sending wand sparks into the air. Harry tensed in the shadows, waiting for the signal to move, when his scar seared white-hot. Snape standing to his left looked at him sharply, and Harry nodded once. Trying to smother another gasp of pain, he pulled the vial of special potion from his pocket, and drank it. It managed to instantly dull the pain, just as the platform exploded in motion.

Black robed Death Eaters in their white masks Apparated on to the platform as adults and children ran screaming in every direction. Harry gripped his wand tightly, the pain still throbbing in his scare, and he knew Voldemort was here, somewhere on the train platform. He searched for the tall skeletal figure, knowing that he needed to see the evil wizard first.

“Now!” Hissed Professor Snape from deeper in the shadows to the left of Harry.

Striding boldly forward with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny behind him, Harry hoped that no one could see how badly his knees were shaking, as he extended his wand towards the closest Death Eater and blasted him with a stunning curse. Other members of the DA followed Harry’s lead and soon the platform was full of dueling pairs. The DA members on the train were doing their best to get students on board, feeling they would be safer there. Harry led the others and moved around the edge of the main battle, trying to get to where they could cover the students running toward the train.

“Diffinido!”

Harry heard the spell that was yelled at him, and dived to the side, but was hit in the leg by a deep cutting curse. He rolled to the side, as Hermione stepped over him.

“Stupefy!” She yelled, Ron moving to back her

Watching the Death Eater drop with satisfaction. Harry cast a simple healing charm, hoping to stem the flow of blood and braced his leg with a spell so he could move freely. Ginny helped him back up to his feet, and he pulled his friends in close.

“Voldemort is here somewhere, my scar is on fire.” He whispered urgently.

Looking up, he found that they were in the middle of the battle again, and began throwing a blasting curse at every Death Eater he could see. Harry could see people down on the ground, but did not have time to stop. The battle seemed to go on and on, with hexes and curses thrown by Voldemort’s followers at random and they did not hesitate to use any of the Unforgivables. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of a tall, figure dressed in robes of royal blue, and a feeling of relief went through him. Dumbledore was here and everything would be all right.

A burst of green spell light flashed across Harry vision, and he dove to the side where Ron stood in the path of the curse. Harry felt the brush of the spell skim his right arm, as he knocked Ron out of the way. Rolling around, Harry fell the first time he tried to get up, feeling a little dizzy, his right arm hanging limply at his side. His wand dangled from his limp fingers and Harry grabbed it awkwardly with his left hand. Ron helped him to his feet, just as they heard the sound of many people Disapparating.

Looking around, Harry could see that all the Death Eaters had disappeared and the bright winter day grew dark and cold. The bone chilling cold he had felt before, the one that he knew could only be caused by Dementors. Peering up at the sky, Harry saw them coming in a mass of black. If there had been hundreds that night in his third year, when Sirius, Hermione and he where by the lake, then there were thousands of them today. The platform went dark and the screams started. Harry found that his right arm was still hanging unless at his side.

“Potter!” Harry heard Snape’s voice over the din. “Potter, use the medallion!”

Shoving his wand into his back pocket, Harry pulled the phoenix medal out from under his jumper. The pull of the Dementors was getting stronger, and Harry cleared his mind, closing his eyes. Focusing on his magical core, Harry visualized a thick strand of magic and sent it streaming out through the medallion.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

Harry could feel the magic pouring out of him, and his knees buckled. He would have fallen if several sets of hands had not caught him and held him up. Opening his eyes, he saw a huge silver stag trotting across the platform, meeting up with an equally huge phoenix soaring through the air. An assortment of smaller Patronus’ also surged around the platform; an otter; a swan, and something hairy that Harry could not quite identify. Slowly, the Patronus’ drove the Dementors away, and Harry let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.

The bright sunlight returned and Harry tried again to stand on his own, but found he didn’t have the strength. Ron had him on one side, and Harry was surprised to see Snape on the other. Albus Dumbledore was walking among the injured that lay on the floor of the platform, and Remus came running from the train, where he had been stationed with the other half of the DA.

“Harry, are you alright?” He asked anxiously.

“I caught a couple of hexes, Remus, but I’m fine.”

“Bloody hell, Harry, you were hit with a cutting curse and then brushed by that killing curse that was aimed at me!”

The next thing Harry knew, he was portkeyed directly to the hospital wing, and passed out just as he dropped to his knees on the floor.

The room was dark when Harry opened his eyes, and it took him a minute to realize that he was in his own four-poster in the Gryffindor Tower. Pushing himself up, he found that his right arm was still stiff and sore, and there was a vague ache behind his eyes.

“Harry?” Ron’s voice drifted over from his bed.

“Yeah.” Harry tried to sit up.

“Easy, mate, Madame Pomfrey said you weren’t to get up or anything, and she left a couple of potions for you to drink.” Ron moved over to sit beside him. “She said to tell you that you’d be okay, just tired from all the magic you used on that Patronus, and sore from the curses you were hit with.”

Harry swallowed the ingredients of the vials that Ron passed him, and leaned back on the pillow. “I am glad not to be there, but the hospital wing must have been full is Pomfrey let me stay here.”

“Yeah, actually it was.” Ron studied his hands for a moment. “We lost two kids, a second year Ravenclaw and first year Slytherin, with a bunch of the people on the platform hurt. The ones that managed to get on the train were pretty well protected, and none of the DA was hurt very badly. Terry Boots took a nasty cutting hex to the chest, but that was the worst.” Glancing up, Ron looked at him seriously. “Thanks for pushing me out of the way of that killing curse on the platform, Harry, I never saw it coming.”

Harry could feel his cheeks heating up. “No big deal, you would have done the same thing for me, mate.” He laid his head back, sleep claiming him again.

Hogwarts managed to settle into the second term, the mood subdued to say the least, the on-going war having been brought to their very doorstep. Hogsmeade weekends and Quidditch were both canceled, the Headmaster concerned about the security of the students. Course work and classes continued as before, and the DA was opened to fourth and fifth year students, with their parents’ permission. The original members of the DA took over the responsibility of teaching the other students, assisted by Remus, Moody, and Snape.

Harry continued his special training sessions, learning as much as he could about using magical power that continued to grow. He never figured out for sure whether Voldemort had been on the platform that day in King’s Cross, or who had sent the killing curse toward Ron. The Dark Lord had been relatively quiet in the past weeks, with Harry’s scar giving him just a few painful twinges and no new visions. Able to eat and sleep normally did world of good for him, his cheeks filling out and the circles fading from around his eyes.

The cold wet winter slid seamlessly into to a warm spring, and by Easter break, Harry was growing concerned. He knew that the lull in Death Eater activity was worrisome, as the prickling in his scar told him that Voldemort was rebuilding his ranks of followers and regrouping. Strange disappearances continued and there had been a rash of mysterious deaths reported in the muggle papers that Dumbledore read. The Minister of Magic had begun acting again as thought Lord Voldemort was a mere annoyance, instead of maintaining a careful vigilance.

The course study for the sixth and seventh year students had been subtly changed to reflect the circumstances they found themselves in; healing and bone mending charms were taught; healing and restorative potions were brewed; and protective and shielding spells taught. Professor McGonagall had added an advance transfigurations class for those wanting to learn the basics theory of becoming an Animagus. It wasn’t an easy class, but mandatory for anyone who was thinking of learning how to transform, and Harry was intrigued enough to add it to his heavy course load.

Time pasted quickly, and it was the final double potions class on Friday afternoon before Easter break. Harry was actually proud of the progress he had made in potions since he and the stoic Potions Master had negotiated their hard won truce. Grudgingly, Harry had to admit to that he had learned to respect Snape’s experience and knowledge, while the older man had come to appreciate Harry’s talents, which made their training sessions easier for both. Just before class ended, Harry leaned over to glance at Hermione’s potion, making sure his was the same color and consistency.

“Potter! Five points from Gryffindor, and see me after class.” Snape sneered as he stalked past, and Harry could feel his cheeks heat.

Waiting until the last person left the room, Harry opened his mouth angrily, but bit his tongue as Professor Snape held up a hand. He quietly muttered a silencing spell, before turning to Harry.

“I have noticed some irregularities in one of the students, whom I believe may either be under the Imperious Curse or be someone else using Polyjuice potion.” He met Harry’s eyes, who made no attempt to hide his irritation.

“You took points for wanting to talk to me, Professor?” Harry ground out.

“Yes, fine, five points to Gryffindor, Potter, is that better?” Snape asked impatiently, and Harry nodded. “You need to watch Michael Corner, the sixth year Ravenclaw. There have been drastic changes in his potions abilities this past week, and he was not responding appropriately last night in the DA training session. I believe it warrants looking into.”

“How am I supposed to do that, sir?” Harry asked, trying to remember what he might know of Corner.

Snape looked at him as if to access his reaction. “Miss Weasley dated him for awhile last year I believe, possibly she would be able to make a better candidate for any assessment of a chance in Corners.”

Harry nodded slowly, quelling the tiny prick of jealousy that made his stomach clench. “Alright, sir, I will talk to her about it and get back to you over the weekend.”

Nodding, Snape waved his wand at the door, dismissing him.

After dinner that night, Harry whispered to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny to meet him in the Room of Requirement in ten minutes, before seeking Luna Lovegood out at the Ravenclaw table and whispering the same in her ear. Meeting everyone there, Harry opened the door to find a sitting room with couch and chairs arranged around a fireplace. A tea tray with hot chocolate and biscuits sat on a low table. Harry sat on one end of the couch, pulling Ginny down next to his, sliding his arm around her. He waited for the others to settle.

“Professor Snape held me after potions class this afternoon.” Harry began only to have Ron grumble.

“Greasy git took five points even!” Hermione smacked him on the back of the head.

Harry snorted, “He gave them back, Ron, but he is suspicious of one of the Ravenclaw sixth years he has in NEWT potions. Snape thinks he may be under the Imperious Curse, or worse, someone else using Polyjuice. He wants us to see if we can discreetly check.” He looked at Luna. “Have you noticed any difference in Michael Corner’s behavior this week?”

Luna turned to glaze at him; her slightly protruding eyes appeared to starring in the vicinity of his belly button, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Yes, Michael has been acting odd, he has been polite.”

Hermione looked at her in puzzlement. “It’s he usually polite?”

“No, usually he makes fun of me, and he has not done that all week.” Luna told them in her faraway voice.

Harry nodded and tightened his arm around his girlfriend. “Ginny? Are you willing to dig into it a little deeper and see what you think?”

“Sure, what are you thinking?” Ginny grinned at him, always game for an adventure.

“I am thinking that you and I should have a spectacular row tomorrow at breakfast, and Luna will console you by taking you back to the Ravenclaw common room. Once you are there, maybe you can remind Michael that you once dated, see if he remembers that.” Harry grimaced as Ginny grinned evilly. “But don’t remind him too much, okay? Then we will make up, spectacularly, Sunday morning at breakfast.”

Ginny leaned in and kissed him lingeringly. “Okay, as long as we get to make up spectacularly as well.”

Harry kissed her back, breaking apart when he heard Ron cough discretely. Hermione laughed as Harry turned almost as red as Ron was, and Ginny giggled. They spent the next hour going over contingency plans and enjoying each the company of their friends. It was nice, Harry thought, to feel comfortable and safe hidden away in this special room, with his friends. It was not often lately that he’d been given the chance to relax and enjoy such a simple pleasure.

They left the Room as a group, Luna turning down the corridor that led to the Ravenclaw tower, and Harry with the others headed for the seventh floor. Diverting to Remus’ room, Harry quietly stuck his head into Remus’ bedroom to check on his godfather. The full moon was rising and Remus was curled up on the floor of his room, peacefully sleeping.

Harry had their appearance at breakfast timed for midway through, hoping for the largest number of students in order for word to get back to any one not present, as Michael Corner had not been seen at many meals in the past several days. Catching the black glittering eyes of the Potions Master, Harry gave him a short nod. With Ginny on his left and Hermione on his right, while Ron sat across from him, they ate their meal quietly, waiting for Luna’s signal. Harry scanned the room casually, checking to make sure everything appeared normal.

Luna finally stood up from the Ravenclaw table, and slowly made her way towards the door. Ginny bent over her plate for a second, screwing up her face. Grabbing the piece of blank parchment from Harry’s pocket, she let out an angry screech that reminded Harry of Molly Weasley when she was irate. Ginny jumped up from her seat, and slapped him across the face hard enough to leave a mark.

“You no good two timing scum!” Ginny screamed her face red and angry, holding up the supposed note, which she tore into small pieces. “That’s the last time you do that to me! I hate you, Harry Potter!”

Storming out, she ‘bumped’ into Luna at the door and threw herself at her friend, wailing about boys being beasts. Harry sat blinking, feeling his cheeks heat as every eye in the Great Hall swung back to stare at him. He turned toward the head table, catching the twinkle in the blue eyes of the Headmaster, and the sneer that Snape was wearing. Ron belatedly jumped up and glared at him before, before hurrying after his sister. Hermione had her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking like she was crying, but Harry could hear her snigger. With a sigh, he pulled her to her feet and led her from the hall, the whispers growing louder behind him.

Ron was waiting when they returned to the common room, his smirk widening as he took in the small red handprint still visible on Harry’s face. Harry glared at him, before the three of them settled in, at Hermione’s insistence, and worked on homework. Usually when they had holidays, the boys would wait until mid-week, but Hermione had insisted that they were losing a day together, while Ginny and Luna were ‘spying’, so they might as well get the homework done. With an occasional glance at the brilliant blue sky, the three immersed themselves in homework.

Harry decided it would be best to keep out of sight, and let Ginny do what she needed to, so he stayed in upstairs when Ron and Hermione went to lunch. After checking on Remus, he sat down to continue his potions essay. The others finally returned, Ron carrying a slightly squished ham sandwich for Harry, and Hermione handed him a plate of treacle tart, both of which he devoured.

“Was Ginny at lunch?” He asked between bites.

“Yeah, she was sitting between Luna and Corner at the Ravenclaw table, chattering away.” Ron snorted, picking his Transfiguration book and essay.

Harry nodded, biting back a sigh; he brought out his Transfiguration essay as well. The three best friends worked diligently through the pile of homework, Hermione done first, as usual. She was finishing proof reading Harry’s potions essay before she and Ron headed down to dinner. Waving them off, Harry began to pack his stuff back into his school bag, grumbling that someone should appreciate the effort he and Ginny were making. After putting his bag back in the dorm, Harry slipped down the hall to check that Remus was still resting comfortably in his rooms.

Walking back towards the portrait hole, Harry was lost in thought about his dad, Sirius, and Remus, and the escapades of the Marauders. Although he knew that the friends had been harsh on Professor Snape in their school days, he could not help but wonder what it would have been like to be able to transform as they had each month. With invisibility cloaks and the Marauders map, and the ability to turn it animal forms...

The Marauders Map, Harry thought suddenly, stopping in his tracks. He hit the heel of his hand to his forehead, what an idiot I am, the map! Running through the common room, Harry ran to the dorm, diving into the bottom of his school trunk. Grabbing his invisibility cloak, he stopped long enough to leave a note for Ron and Hermione, and dashed out of the room.

Throwing the cloak over him, he ran through the halls and down staircases, slowing when he encountered groups of students who might hear his footsteps. Making his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he waiting until he was sure the corridor was clear and then pounded on the door. He pounded a second time a minute later, hoping that Moody had made it back from dinner. As he raised his hand a third time, the door was flung open, his wrist grabbed and he found himself on the floor of the classroom looking up.

“I hope you have a good reason for pounding down my door, Potter.” Alastor Moody growled at him.

Harry scrambled up, shaking out his cloak. “Yes, sir, I do. I need to borrow back my map, please, Professor Moody.”

The electric blue magical eye looked him up and down so fast; Harry had to look down, as it was making his stomach queasy.

“Any specific reason you need it, Mister Potter?” Moody asked suspiciously, flicking his wand in the direction of his office. The large piece of parchment that Harry recognized as the Marauders map flew into his hand.

“I need to help Professor Snape with a question he has.” Harry told him honestly, bristling at going through an inquisition to retrieve his own property.

Moody handed him the map reluctantly, Harry thanked him, threw a thank you over his shoulder and disappeared under the cloak again. Making his way to the dungeons took a little longer, as he dodged more students returning from dinner. The door to Snape’s office was ajar, and Harry pushed it open silently. The Potions Master was speaking to one of the Slytherin prefect’s about another student, as Harry slipped silently into the room. Moving to stand in the furthest corner of the room, Harry endeavored to ignore the conversation. He could feel the dark eyes following him, and wondered idly how it was possible for the man to know that he was here. It dawned on Harry that he also seemed to be able to tell when someone was near him, even if the person was invisible or it was dark. Perhaps it was a magical ability.

The prefect left, and he watched as Snape stood, waving the door shut with his hand. “It must be extremely important, Potter, for you to act in such a manner, please take the bloody cloak off so I can see you!” The older wizard snarled.

Harry whipped the cloak off, and dropped in on the floor, as he walked over to the desk with the map. Snape eyed it suspiciously, and Harry could see that he recognized it.

“You bring me an old piece of parchment that insults people, Potter?” The onyx eyes gleamed dangerously.

“No, sir, I bring you a map that may help us.” Harry was uncomfortable, but knew that it was the safest way to figure out what was going on. “This is a map that was given to me in my third year, as I am sure you remember it.” Spreading the map on the desk, he touched it with his wand. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Ignoring the snort he heard, Harry watched as the map revealed itself and traced a finger towards the Ravenclaw Tower. As he was doing that, the map was snatched up.

“What is this?” The question was asked in a deadly quiet voice, fury in every syllable.

Sighing, Harry turned around to where Severus Snape stood behind him, examining the parchment. “Professor Snape, I would not have brought this too you it I had though you still held on to old grievances. I came here tonight because I trust you enough to show you something that has been a well kept secret for several years. This map was constructed by my father and his friends while they were students here at Hogwarts. The Headmaster had asked me to lend it to Professor Moody as he was using it to monitor who was in the castle this past summer.”

Harry’s tone was respectful, but determined. He wanted to make sure that Snape realized that not only did the Headmaster know about this map, and was using as a tool, but that Harry had enough trust in the Potions Master to bring it to him. As he watched, the older man took a deep breath and laid the map back down on his desk.

“I would have preferred not to have been lied to that day three years ago, Harry, but I will concede that we have both learned much since then. I would like you to explain this map to me, please.”

Taking a few minutes, Harry explained the obvious and the not so obvious functions of the map, the secret passageways, and the little flags with names that identified each person. In a subdued voice, he went on to explain how he’d seen Peter Pettigrew’s name on the map his third year, and Barty Crouch’s name there the next year.

“So it will work even if someone is using Polyjuice potion, Professor.” Harry told him, his finger once again tracing the hallways towards the Ravenclaw tower. Finding the common room, he smiled when he found Luna’s name flag, next to the one that read Ginny Weasley, until he noted the name flag of the person alongside Ginny.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry didn’t remember moving, until he was brought to an abrupt halt and lifted bodily back into the Potions Master’s office. Kicking as he was pivoted in mid-air, his magic swirling around him, he was dropped unceremoniously into the chair in front of the desk, and a binding spell cast on him.

“You will do no one any good by rushing in to the Ravenclaw common room like an idiotic Gryffindor, Potter!” Snape snarled at him. “Do you really think that whatever Malfoy is up to, he would endanger that to do harm to Ginny Weasley?” And even if he were that stupid, Miss Weasley is aware that he is not Corner and should be on her guard, correct?”

Harry glared at Snape, struggling to get his breathing under control. He knew that Snape was right, and it irked him even more.

“I would think that your lack of faith in Miss Weasley’s abilities to protect herself from a known danger might be upsetting to her.” Snape added softly, the malice dripping off every word did not reach the glittering dark eyes.

“Yeah, she would kill me.” Harry managed to get out between clenched teeth, slowly bring himself and his magic back under control. “’Finite Incantatem.” He stood, smoothing his hair back down as best he could.

“I’m sorry, Professor.” He muttered his eyes downcast as he looked at the floor.

“It is admirable, Harry, that you are so always willing to protect those in danger, especially those you care about, but all your training will be for naught if you rush in without being prepared or having full knowledge of what you face.” Severus Snape laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If Draco Malfoy is here, then there may be others here as well.”

Frowning Harry froze, the implication of what the older man said made him think, as it had not occurred to him that Malfoy would not come back alone. “It also means that Michael has been kidnapped, right, as they still need his for the Polyjuice potion?”

Snape nodded, his arms crossed. “Yes.” A hand came up, and he stroked his bottom lip with a long pale finger. “We need to see the Headmaster, Potter, gather your map…”

“But, Professor, what about Ginny, she could be on danger.” The anxiety he was feeling colored his voice. “I need to send a message to her, at least.”

“Alright, call that manic house-elf who seems so taken with you.”

“Dobby?” Harry asked, and the house-elf appeared with a pop in front of him.

“Harry Potter is needing Dobby, sir?” He asked throwing his arms around Harry’s waist, the many hats on his head wiggling as the diminutive creature bounced on his toes.

“Hi, Dobby, can you take a note to Ginny Weasley for me, please?” Looking around for a piece of parchment, Harry was surprised when Snape pushed a piece toward him and handed him a quill. He scratched a note quickly.

Dear Ginny, You are the only one I love. Come home now, please. I will be there as soon as the Headmaster lets me go. Love, Harry. P.S.: Don’t play with ferrets.
“Thank you, Dobby, Ginny is in the Ravenclaw common room right now with Luna. Anyway you can find some flowers to go with this, Dobby?” Harry asked hopefully, as he rolled and sealed the note with his wand. A large bouquet of bright flowers appeared in Dobby’s hand as he took the note, and disappeared with a pop.

“Enough time has been wasted with pathetic displays of affection; gather your map, Potter and put that blasted cloak back on. It would not due for any of my House to see us in the hallways together.” Snape sneered at him, and Harry was sure he saw the man roll his eyes.

The hallways were crowded with students returning from dinner, and Harry was amused as he trailed in the man’s wake, robes billowing behind him, at how they jumped out of the way for the scowling Potions Master to pass. In no time, they were at the door to Dumbledore’s office, Snape pushing it open without bothering to knock. Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, clothed in glittery robes of midnight blue and sliver. A tea tray sat on a low table in front of the desk, as did a tray of sandwiches.

“Ah, Severus, Harry, please sit down. I took the liberty of having some sandwiches brought as neither of you were at dinner this evening.”

Letting the cloak drop to his shoulders, Harry shook his head at the elderly wizard, wondering how he always seemed to know. He followed Professor Snape towards the chairs.

“Harry, it is rather disconcerting to see your head floating about the room.” Dumbledore said, the blue eyes twinkling.

Harry grinned and took the cloak off, stuffing it behind him in the chair. Feeling ravenous, he took a sandwich from the platter as he leaned forward to spread the Marauders Map across the Headmaster’s desk. Taking a bite, he chewed slowly as Snape explained what they had discovered. His eyes found the Ravenclaw common room, and he saw the flag labeled “Ginny Weasley” moving towards the door, watching as it continued toward the Gryffindor tower. He didn’t realize that he had sighed with relief until the conversation around him stopped, and he looked up to find both older wizards looking at him.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Tucking into his sandwich, Harry listened to the two men discuss the situation, while his eyes roamed over the map. Searching the map methodically, he started at a point near the front door, down to the Slytherin dungeons, past the kitchens, and down towards the Hufflepuff common room, which was also in the dungeons.

Grabbing another chicken sandwich, Harry continued to follow his finger as it checked through the Hufflepuff dorms. Two flags seemed to overlap, making Harry grin as he saw two students that close. His finger moved on just as the flags separated enough to read the names: Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Opening his mouth to announce his discovery, Harry promptly inhaled a small piece of bread, coughing and choking as the two men turned towards him. Tears streaming down his red face as his throat attempted to dislodge the offensive material, Harry stabbed at the flags with his finger.

A goblet of water was pressed into his hand, and Harry gulped it down. Still coughing sporadically, he took off his glasses and wiped his face with a napkin. Carefully, he finished his sandwich, as Snape ate and the Headmaster continued to study the map. Fingers trailing along hallways as Harry’s had, Professor Dumbledore discovered another imposter in the Ravenclaw dorms, a Slytherin who had already graduated, Marcus Flint.

“That makes four that we know of, Severus, four missing students, and four imposters here for unknown reasons.” The wizard said thoughtfully, sitting back in his chair, a worried frown creased his brow.

“We know that Malfoy is here as Michael Corner, but we have no way of knowing from this who the other three are impersonating. How are we going to find that out, Professor?” Harry asked as he looked at him over the map.

“We will need to find a way to isolate them and discover who they are.” Snape said his eyes on Harry. “Malfoy will surely be in the company of Flint most of the time, so it should be relatively easy to decipher his identity. Crabbe and Goyle may pose a more difficult challenge.”

“If we could get one of those two idiots away from the other, either of them would be easy to question with Veritaserum, and then Obliviate, wouldn’t they, Professor.” Harry asked excitedly.

“Yes, that might be a way to discover why they have been sent here. Are you willing to allow us to use your map, Harry?” Dumbledore peered at him over the half-moon spectacles.

“Of course, Professor, for however long you need it.” Harry assured him.

“Alright, my boy, I think you need to get back under that cloak and return to Gryffindor tower.”

Harry grabbed his cloak and headed for the door, anxious to see Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

“Harry.” Dumbledore’s voice stopped him. “Remember to keep this very quiet, as we do not know who is actually who.”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

Diving back under the cloak, Harry hurried towards the common room removing the cloak just before he hit the stairs. Stepping through the portrait hole slightly out of breath, he looked up in time to see Ginny streaking towards him. Catching her as she jumped, Harry spun her around, delighting the crowd of Gryffindors seated in the room beyond them. Bringing his head down, he kissed her hard, startled by a tingle not unlike an electric shock that ran through him.

Drawing back, Harry could tell by the redness of her blush and the fact that she hid her face in the hollow of his neck, that Ginny had felt it too. Ron and Hermione walked up, and with a look from Harry, they all went up to the empty boys’ dormitory. Settling on Harry’s bed, they drew the hangings and Harry enclosed them in a silencing field. They listened quietly as he told them what he and Snape had found.

“I would have loved to have seen that, Harry.” Ron said, referring to the scene in the Potions Master’s office. “I’ve seen you when your magic starts swirling around you, the thought of Snape grabbing you and tying you to a chair would have been brilliant!” Grinning, Ron ducked as Harry took a good-natured swing at him.

“Yeah, Snape thought I was taking off because I didn’t have any faith in Ginny’s abilities.” Harry chuckled, seeing the flare of anger in her eyes. “When…”

“When it was actually your ‘saving people thing’ kicking in.” Hermione guessed accurately.

“Something like that.” Harry muttered, relieved that Ginny was now smiling at his discomfort.

“What is scary in all this, is the fact that there are at least four students who are being held somewhere by that bloody bastard.” Rom remarked, knowing how hard it was for Harry to sit and do nothing. “What is Dumbledore going to do?”

“I dunno, I made the suggestion that we grab Crabbe or Goyle, question them and then Obliviate them, but they were still talking when I left. I think right now we just have to be really careful, and the four of us stick close together.” Harry told them seriously.

“I think it is good that we done have any regular DA sessions this week, and we can always have Professor Snape use the map to check those of us in the core group, before our training on Tuesday afternoon.” Hermione said, clearly thinking ahead. “And we need a password that we can use, something only the four of us would use.”

“Snuffles.” Sadness tinged Harry’s quiet voice.

Ginny slid over and settled in Harry’s lap. “Are you sure, Harry? It’s a perfect choice, but it’s not worth the pain.”

Kissing her on the forehead, Harry wrapped his arms around her, and shook his head. “Sirius will love the idea that he can still help us, even in such a small way. Snuffles it is.”

The prickling of his scar increased over the next couple days, but no visions came through and Harry was more annoyed than anything. They stayed together as a group with Luna and Neville joining them, taking their studying and playing to the Room of Requirement, where they could relax. The weather outside was windy and rainy, trapping everyone inside the castle, and fraying tempers. Remus approved of their decision when he surfaced Sunday afternoon, and took their idea of a password as well as the plan to screen the special DA group, to a meeting with the Headmaster on Monday morning.

Professor Snape joined the teenagers and Remus after dinner on Monday for Harry usual advanced training. Seeing the five young people comfortably ensconced in one corner of the room, Severus Snape shook his head.

“This will not do.” He muttered as he removed his outer robes.

Harry bristled at the implied slight against his friends. “They would never say a word…”

Long fingers settled on his shoulders as Harry bit off his tirade, and looked up to meet the unreadable dark eyes.

“I had thought us beyond this pettiness, Harry; my concern for your friends is for the same reasons that we wear a certain type of clothing when we train, for their safety only. I was in no way questioning their loyalty.”

Chagrined, Harry hung his head. “I’m sorry, Professor. You are right, I jumped to conclusions and I should know better.”

Remus stood to the side watching, and Harry knew that he was supportive of this fragile new trust between him and the Potions Master. His guardian tended to be overprotective, but Harry knew he trusted Snape. Closing his eyes, Harry envisioned a wall between his friends and them, and opened them to find the room had supplied one. He looked up in time to see Snape wave a hand, and the wall became as clear as glass, allowing his friends to watch.

“Thank you, Professor.”

The training went smoothly, working on Harry’s wandless magic, first with him saying the spells, and then without. Harry had progressed in the past few months, becoming very proficient with wandless and amplified magic. It had taken awhile for him to learn to control the magic he was pushing out of the medallion, several times he had over extended, as he had at Kings Cross that day. Now that he could better control the amount of magic he used, Professor Snape was working on helping him refine his control to the point that he didn’t need to verbalize the spells and charms he used.

“Concentrate, Potter, it is a simple enough spell!” Snape sneered at him from the far end of the room. “How many students would love to hex their greasy git of a Potions Master?”

Harry’s smirk had an evil edge as he threw a Jelly-legs Hex at the black clad wizard, which Snape easily blocked.

“That’s better, now try throwing several, one right after another.”

Harry concentrated, beginning his right hand up in front of him, giving him a focal point, and began to throw out simple hexes. The older wizard easily dodged them, and threw several back at Harry who didn’t realize it until the last minute, dodging two out of three. Remus was laughing at him as he said the counter curse for the Tarantallegra, stopping Harry’s legs from their violent dance.

“What was that for?” Harry asked as he rubbed his thighs.

“I am merely trying to keep you on your toes, Harry.” Snape said with an amused smile on his lips.

Harry couldn’t help himself, he gawked, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a real smile on that face before. Remus laughed hardily at the look on his godson’s face, and Snape smirked. Feeling his cheeks heat, Harry found himself laughing at his own reaction. The Potions Master walked over to them, one hand coming to rest on Harry’s shoulder.

“You did well tonight, Harry, although you are still using your hand as a pseudo wand. If you must do that, as least use both of your hands, in order to keep your opponent confused as to what you are doing. Hopefully, we will get you past that need.”

“Won’t that…”

The door to the room opened, and Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room, his face a blank mask. With a wave of his hand, the clear wall dissolved and he waved them all towards the fireplace. The three wizards exchanged a troubled glance as Snape pulled on his outer robes and lead the way over to the others.

“Headmaster, has something happened?” Snape asked, walking to stand beside the older man.

“Yes, Severus, something has happened.” Dumbledore looked at Harry intently, motioning him over. “Harry, have you felt anything at all, last night or today?”

“Just some of the prickling I’ve been having lately, sir, stronger than usual, but nothing else.” Harry looked up in to the blue eyes, noting the absence of the usual twinkle. “What’s the matter, sir?”

Albus Dumbledore looked at the faces in front of him.

“Professor Sinistra is missing.”

The DA session for Tuesday night was canceled, under the guise that Remus was recovering from an ‘illness’. The core group met instead with Professors Dumbledore, Moody, Snape, and Remus. It was imperative that none of the imposters learned how far they had advanced in the training for Harry and the others. The primary goal at this point was to identify the Hufflepuffs that Goyle and Crabbe were impersonating. The Marauder’s map had been used to identify Flint as Wayne Hopkins, a seventh year Ravenclaw. Professor Sinistra had appeared for lunch on Tuesday, and the map identified her as Bellatrix LeStrange, much to Harry’s anguish.

Knowing there was nothing they could do until they had successfully identified all the imposters, Harry went to bed that night feeling apprehensive. The waning moonlight filtered into the room through the window next to Harry’s bed, as he tried to get comfortable, his thoughts turning to the missing students and teacher. Having been forced to watch many of the Death Eater activities, he was afraid of what might be happening to them, and how they were being treated.

The high ceiling room had a red cast to it, the torches on the walls flickering dimly. The small circle of black clad figures stood around him, and he could smell their fear as he let them feel his rage. He looked down on them, letting the silence stretch out, feeling the fear build.

“One of the prisoners has been allowed to escape, putting all my brilliant, hard worked plans in jeopardy.”

His voice was high-pitched and cold, his anger a living thing they all feared. “You allowed a mere boy to outwit you and find a way out. I am most unhappy about this, and you will find the boy before he has the chance to get back to Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?”

The circle of figures muttered their ascent and bowed low, one of the more foolish attempted to back up.

“Did you think I would let you go unpunished?” The evil wizard laughed cruelly, his long, skeletal fingers caressing the length of a dark wand.

“Crucio” he said, savoring the screams that followed.

The searing pain cleaved his forehead in two, and Harry was unable to stop the scream that resounded through the dormitory. Wrenching himself to the side of the bed, he vomited as he felt Ron slid up next to him, and grip his left wrist. Smoothing the walls in his mind, making sure there had been no breach, Harry concentrated on the soothing trill of Phoenix song, trying to ease the white-hot pain. He felt Ron ease him into a sitting position and a vial pressed to his lips. Gratefully, he drank it and the pain immediately began to retreat, his breathing eased.

“Thanks, mate” he told Ron softly, as the long cool fingers laid across his forehead.

“Harry?” came Dumbledore’s concerned voice, and Harry opened his eyes.

“One of the prisoners escaped, one of the students I think, and Voldemort was not happy with his followers. He was using the Cruciatus on one of them before they joined the search.”

Ron handed Harry his glasses as the Headmaster conjured a goblet of water. Harry wondered fleetingly where Remus was, as his guardian always seemed to know when he had a vision, until he remembered the waning moon. Taking a sip of water, Harry looked up at the powerful wizard in front of him, clad in his snowy white night shirt and deep scarlet dressing gown.

“Professor, is there a way to stop any owls from delivering a message to the imposters? I am sure that someone will warn them about the escape?”

Dumbledore sat down on the side of the bed, as Ron continued to sit behind Harry in silent support. Glancing around, Harry could see that he had once again woke up all his dorm-mates, and smiled apologetically. He quickly assured the older wizard that he was fine, he’d taken his special potion, and again described everything he’d seen.

“Professor, is there anyway we can help him?” Harry asked quietly, guilt gnawing at his gut.

Patting his arm as he turned to leave, the Headmaster’s eyes were sad. “If we can, Harry, if we can?”

Harry waited until his dorm-mates settled back into sleep before he silently crawled out of bed, and making his way to the common room, placing a silencing charm on the doorway. His scar was still prickling ominously, and he didn’t have any desire waking everyone up again. Curling up in his favorite chair in front of the fireplace, Harry tried to relax, but sleep was elusive, his mind too focused on the missing students. He could well imagine what they were going through, shuddering as he remembered his own experience that June night almost two years ago. All his instincts screamed at him to do something, to take some king of action to rescue the captives, as Harry was sure the captives were praying for. He knew Michael would make any attempt he could to escape.

His eyes drifted closed, the heavy drag of sleep pulled at him. Automatically, Harry smoothed the walls protecting his mind, before tumbling into the darkness. Michael Corner’s face swam in front of him, his terror palatable as he ran between broken headstones in an unkempt, neglected graveyard. He could feel the cold seeping into his thin school robes, the branches of the trees he ran past ripping at him. The pounding of the pursuing feet grew closer and closer, many of them, and chest heaving, Michael dove behind a large grave marker. Footsteps and harsh breathing was heard, and then a cold voice.

“Crucio!”

Pain ripped through him, sending tendrils of fire along his nerve synapses, and he screamed in agony. The pain seemed to go on forever.

Harry woke with a start, his chest heaving, and his scream reverberating through the common room. Disorientated and drenched in sweat, he could see the thin gray light of dawn filtering through the large windows of the tower, and he shook with uncontrollable tremors running through his muscles. Knowing any further attempts at sleep would be futile, Harry crept up to the dorm, gathered his things, and headed towards the bathroom.

Still trembling, Harry made his way slowly toward the Headmaster’s office twenty minutes later. The gargoyle moved as he approached, as if he was expected, and Harry held on as he rode the staircase up. The murmur of voices could be heard behind the closed door as he staggered toward it. Raising his hand to knock, he was startled as the door flew open of its own accord.

“Good morning, Harry, you are up early.”

Harry stepped into the room, and was not surprised to see Professors Snape and McGonagall seated in front of the desk. Stumbling on rubber legs, he caught himself on the arm of the Potions Master’s chair, swaying as a wave of dizziness hit him. A hand gripped his arms and he closed his eyes, leaning into the support.

“Harry, who cast the Cruciatus Curse on you?” Severus Snape asked him quietly.

“I…I don’t know…show you in the Pensieve,” Harry ground out, as he was eased into a chair Albus Dumbledore conjured for him. Withdrawing a silvery memory strand from his temple, Harry dropped it in to the Pensieve that appeared on the desk, and prodded the shimmering surface with his wand. He slumped back in the chair while the others watched the dream he’d just had.

“What happened, Harry?” Dumbledore asked him, as he watched the scene sink back into the Pensieve.

“I don’t know, sir, I just…dreamed it, I think, but it was like I was with Michael…” Harry trailed off, at a loss to explain.

“And the boy appears to be suffering from the after-effects of that curse, Albus” Snape observed, watching Harry.

“Retrieve your memory, please, Harry,” the Headmaster told him quietly. “You have not had one of these ‘dreams’ for some time.”

Harry brought the silvery strand back to his temple, and sat back. A hand touched his arm and he looked over, taking the potion vial that Snape handed him. Swallowing the bitter liquid with a shudder, he passed back the empty vial. Almost immediately, his shaking subsided and Harry drew a deep breath.

“No, not since the dreams I had fourth year, before Voldemort came back, where I was watching what was going on, instead of through his eyes.”

“Interesting” the elder wizard said softly, “I wonder…” Dumbledore trailed off, apparently lost in thought.

Harry watched him, the far away look in the man’s eyes made him uneasy. Albus Dumbledore was a brilliant man and a powerful wizard, and Harry had come to regard him as a grandfather figure, but he did sometimes feel like a pawn in the man’s campaign against Voldemort. Although Harry knew his participation was pre-ordained, he desperately wanted to protect those he loved as well as the innocent that got caught in the crossfire.

“Professor, if you don’t have anything else for me, may I go down to breakfast?” Harry quiered.

The Headmaster waved his hand absently, “Yes, of course, my boy.”

It was still early and there were few people in the Great Hall. Harry ate quickly, feeling odd as he sat alone at the Gryffindor table, as it had been a long time since he’d been anywhere without an escort. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, and Harry knew he was being watched. His instincts kicked in and he knew there was someone in the room who wanted to hurt him.

Scanning the room in what he hoped was a casual glance, he saw several Hufflepuffs, a couple of Slytherins, and four Ravenclaws eating at their respective tables. He studied the faces furtively from behind his fringe, but none were ones he knew well. Each of the students present seemed at ease and comfortable, as they chatted over their eggs and bacon. Neither of the known imposters were at the Ravenclaw table, and only Professor Sprout sat at the head table, reading the Daily Prophet propped against a pitcher of juice as she ate.

Finishing his meal as fast as he could, Harry slipped out of the Hall by a the side door nearest the Gryffindor table. Walking across the Entrance Hall towards the marble staircase, he was not surprised when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey, Potter, you dropped this.”

The tall blonde boy in the Hufflepuff robes had his hand extended a chocolate frog candy box in his hand. Turning, Harry automatically started to reach for it, before pulling back, his wand in hand.

“Stupefy!”

As the boy dropped to the floor, Harry pressed a finger to his watch, then casting a binding spell with a wave of his hand. Levitating the stunned boy into the shadows of a nearby hallway, Harry watched the doors to the Great Hall for anybody who might appear. A hand fell on his shoulder, and Harry whipped around.

“What happened here, Harry?” Albus Dumbledore peered down at the figure on the floor, Remus and Snape standing behind him.

“He followed me out of the Great Hall, sir, and tried to hand me that chocolate frog box, telling me I had dropped it” Harry told him. “Professor Snape, did you bring the map with you?”

Severus Snape reached into his ropes, pulling out the tightly folded Marauder’s Map. Remus’ eyes widened slightly as he recognized the piece of parchment, glancing at Harry with a puzzled look. Harry flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile at his godfather. As the dark haired wizard carefully checked the map, the Headmaster leaned down to examine the candy box still clutched in the boy’s hand. A wave of his wand, and the box pulsed with blue light. Bright blue eyes meet emerald green over the top of the half-moon spectacles, and Harry was warmed by the approval he saw there.

“Very good, my boy, the box is a portkey. Come, let us go somewhere more private.”

The Headmaster led them to a small room off the Great Hall, which Harry recognized as the room he’d gone into after his name came out of the goblet of fire his fourth year. Remus levitated the boy into the room, and Snape brought up the rear.

“Well, Severus” Dumbledore asked, “what does that marvelous map tell you?”

“It would appear to be Mister Goyle, Headmaster.” The Potions Master said softly.

Remus nudged the box out of the imposter’s hand and left if sitting on the floor, still glowing faintly blue. At the Headmaster’s direction, Goyle was pushed up into a sitting position near the couch, and three drop of the Veritaserum that Snape never failed to have with him were placed on his tongue.

“Ennervate.”

The fake Ravenclaw awoke with a start, his eyes narrowing as he took in his former Head of House, and went black with hate when he say Harry. Remus threw up a silencing charm as the young man glared at them, until the truth serum took effect, blanking his face. Dumbledore looked down at him, any warm gone from his gaze.

“Why are you here, Mister Goyle?”

“To get Potter and take him back to the Dark Lord.”

“How many of you are here?”

“Four others at the moment.”

“Where does the portkey take you?”

“To the Dark Lord.”

“Where are the students and Professor Sinistra being held.”

“The Dark Lord has them.”

“Do you know where the Dark Lord is, Mister Goyle?”

“No.”

Professor Snape moved to stand behind Dumbledore. “It would not do for the Dark Lord to trust his minions with too much helpful information, Headmaster.”

Albus Dumbledore nodded, studying the young man.

Harry stepped up, next to Goyle, and bent down. “Goyle, is there a graveyard near the mansion Voldemort is using?”

Goyle barely moved his lips. “Yes.”

Harry met Dumbledore’s eyes. “I know where he is, sir, he’s back at the graveyard where Cedric died, where the Riddle family is buried.”

There was silence in the room as Harry met the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“No, Harry.”

“But, Professor, I know where they are, I’ve been there! We could get the students and Professor Sinistra out right now, before anyone else is hurt!” The emerald eyes pleaded, the guilt of other deaths simmering in them.

“We would lose too many, Harry, if we attempted to storm Voldemort’s stronghold without a plan in place, and you are not ready yet for a head to head confrontation,” the Headmaster told him quietly.

Harry dropped his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to help the hostages. He wasn’t aware of Remus’ presence beside him until his godfather put a hand on his arm in silent support. He hated this waiting game, hated the pain and agony the captives were surely facing, all the while, hating the fate of the prophecy made before he’d been born.

“So, what? We just wait?” Harry raged at the three older wizards, pulling out of Remus’ grasp. “Obliviate this idiot, hide the portkey, and wait until I get a vision of Death Eaters having a great time torturing and killing some poor muggles, so that we will know they are divided and distracted?”

Albus Dumbledore looked at him shrewdly. “Yes, Harry, exactly! A brilliant plan, my boy, and exactly what we will need to do.”

Harry’s anger deflated as rapidly as a balloon with a hole in it. The thought of sitting and waiting grated on him, but he also knew Dumbledore was right. He tried not to feel defeated, and he tried not to think of what the captives were going through at that time.

“Alright, Professor, what is it you need me to do?”

The Headmaster walked over to stand by Harry, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I realize what we are doing to those children and Professor Sinistra, Harry, but it will do them no good if we attempt to retrieve them and fail. We cannot even take the chance of informing their parents of the situation, as word might get back to the wrong ears. I will take custody of this portkey and inform Kingsley of the situation. Severus and I can take care of Mister Goyle, and get him back to the Hufflepuff common room without suspicion. Remus will escort you back to your dorm, Harry,” Dumbledore cast him a stern look over his half-moon spectacles “and you will not go out again without the proper escort, please.”

Harry nodded; shoulders slumped as he felt the weight of the Prophecy bear down on him, wondering how many more would die before he was ready to fight the evil wizard. Walking over to the prone figure on the floor, he stood looking down at him, wanting nothing more than to kick the imposter viciously. The chocolate box sparkled as his foot stopped beside it, and the temptation to grab it welled up in him.

“Harry, step back from the box.” Snape’s voice was softly spoken, but an order never the less.

Glancing up, Harry took a several steps back, coming to a stop next to Remus. The Headmaster watched Snape over the top of his glasses. The Potions Master’s eyes were fixed on the floor, watching the chocolate frog box carefully. Harry glanced down as well, but the box looked the same to him, except that it was no longer sparkling.

“Professor! The box, it seems to glow only when I am near it.”

Snape nodded, and motioned with his hand for Harry to step near the box again, and watched as it glowed again, as Harry carefully put his foot next to it.
“It appears to be keyed to Harry’s magical signature, Severus” Dumbledore acknowledged, and the tall wizard nodded his head. “That does complicate things a bit.”

Taking a step back, Harry looked from one face to the other; both men seemed lost in thought. “What does that mean, Professor?”

Albus Dumbledore looked at him grimly, his face seemed suddenly older, the lines deeper. “It means that it can only be activated by your touch, Harry, and no one else’s. It means that you will have to go on the rescue mission for the captives alone, when the time comes.”
---------------------------------

The rest of the Easter holidays drug on for Harry and his friends, and not even the gift parcel of chocolate eggs from Mrs. Weasley could lighten the mood. The DA was back to practicing as usual, but under the watchful eyes of Remus, Snape, Moody, and the Headmaster, three of the polyjuiced students in attendance. Harry was very careful not to come into contact with any of the imposters, having now identified all of them. During his private lessons with Professor Snape and his guardian, they discussed defenses and possible action plans on how they would rescue the hostages. Remus called these talks of strategy as ‘brain-storming’, and Harry at least felt like he was contributing ideas when the two older men allowed him to speak his mind.

“What if we have other people put their fingers on the box before I touch it, do you think it would transport all of us?” Harry asked during one of their training sessions.

“Perhaps, Harry, however the principal theory would prevail that it is keyed to you only.” Professor Snape had replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “It is also likely that the protective fields around the mansion have been set up to alert everyone when you are there.”

“But you don’t know that for sure, right?” Harry pressed, “the portkey might just take all of us straight into the mansion.”

“Right into a dungeon cell, no doubt, Harry” Remus shot at him. “I don’t like the idea of putting you in that kind of danger, again!”

Harry had looked at him with weary eyes. “It’s not like we have any choice in the matter, Remus.”

School started again as the spring weather turned sunny and warm. The Potions Master gave out detentions often to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny for implied infractions, so that they could help him pour over the Marauders Map searching for any additional imposters. As the month of April went by, there were six students and one teacher missing, replaced by either known Death Eaters or former students. Harry dreaded each day that passed, the fate of the kidnapped students and teacher weighing on his mind. He debated trying to reach out and see if he could push his way into Voldemort’s mind, but quickly disregarded the idea when he remembered the pain he’d experienced in the past whenever he had any contact with the evil wizard.

The last day of April was unsettled with clouds and drizzle intermixed with periods of clearing, the breezes cold from the north. Harry sat in the windowsill of the dormitory next to his bed that night, watching the stars as they peaked out between the clouds. He smiled faintly as he remembered that night six and a half years ago, when he sat here for the first time savoring the feeling of home that Hogwarts had brought him. The three-quarter moon broke from behind a cloud and washed the landscape in moonlight. Harry leaned his head against the glass and watched the play of the moonlight on the grass below.

The Dark Mark soared over the cottages near the edge of the paved road, illuminating the grotesque scene of rape and torture below. As he watched in cruel delight, a circle of black robed, white masked figures stood around three of their own kind taking their pleasure on a muggle family, the wife and two teenage daughters the main attraction. The man of the house, magically bound, screamed silently as he was hit with curses and forced to watch the hideous acts. Looking down through crimson eyes at a young boy already lying still on the dirt at the side of the cottage, his neck at an unnatural angle, his blood staining the ground, he laughed coldly.

Harry screamed in agony, his forehead cleaved in two, and fell out of the window seat hard on to the floor, retching. Ron was there at his side, a potion vial at his lips as soon as he opened his eyes, the pain searing through his head blinding him. Feeling pressure on his watch, the next thing Harry knew the Headmaster and Remus were beside them, as he still struggled to get his breathing under control. Everyone else in the dorm was up and quietly getting dressed, they all realized what Harry’s dream meant. Somehow, Harry found himself lying back on his bed, and in a choked voice, he relayed the details of what he’d seen.

“All right, Harry, let’s get moving,” Albus Dumbledore told him “we will meet down in the Great Hall in ten minutes.”

The members of the DA, the Auror squad from the Shrieking Shack, members of the Order of the Phoenix, and the Heads of House gathered in the Great Hall. The DA was staying to help Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick round up the Polyjuice imposters, and keep Hogwarts safe. Professor Snape, Remus, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were going to use the portkey, which Dumbledore believe would take them to a prison cell in the basement of the old Riddle estate near Little Hangleton. If the wards would let them through, they were going to try and rescue the prisoners before Voldemort and the Death Eaters could Apparate back,

Professor Dumbledore gathered the smaller group around the Gryffindor table. “Do you still have the galleons that Hermione charmed last year for the DA meetings?”

Everyone found theirs and laid them on the table, watching as the Headmaster waved his wand over them. The coins glowed gold and then blue, before they were instructed to pick them up again. Dumbledore looked at each of them, his bright blue eyes coming to rest on Harry.

“I have made your coins emergency portkeys, as well as placed a locating charm on them. If anything happens, and you are not able to get through the wards, or become separated, press a finger to the galleon and it will take you directly to the hospital wing.” His voice was serious and the twinkle absent from his eyes. “You are to go in, get the students and leave before the Voldemort can Apparate back, which leaves you very little time. The rest of us will be outside the house, creating a diversion.”

Harry put his coin back in his pocket as he nodded his head. He looked at the pale, determined faces of his best friends, and offered a silent plea that they all made it back okay. Professor Snape held on to a corner of the chocolate frog box and extended it towards the teenagers. Harry waited until everyone had a finger on the box, before getting the nod from the Headmaster, and pressed his finger to the box. Immediately, the feeling of a hook being jerked his navel, and the rushing of wind told him that the portkey was still active.

The eight of them landed in a heap in the middle of a small dark foul-smelling room, an ominous silence filling the room. Harry managed to extricate himself, and reached down to help the others up. Putting up a hand, Professor Snape moved silently toward the outline of the door. With a wave of his hand, the door creaked ajar and he nudged it open with his foot, slipping quickly through the opening with Remus on his heels. Harry moved to step up behind them, following his guardian silently out the door. Pausing for the briefest moment, the others fell in to step behind him.

The dimly lit hallway had a total of six doors that opened off of it, including the cell they had just left. Feeling a miniscule shift in the magic of the house, Harry knew they had triggered the protective fields, and needed to move fast. As he watched, he saw Snape signal Remus towards the closest door and his guardian swept inside as soon as the door cracked open. Stepping back into the doorway, Remus signaled Luna, who was closest to him, and Harry knew they had found the first of the prisoners. She disappeared into the cell, and Remus closed the door.

A nudge jerked his attention back to the Potions Master, as Ron and Hermione flanked the door as Snape waved it open. Moving up with Neville, they positioned themselves at the next door. Hermione disappeared inside her cell and the door closed, Ron moving to stand at Harry’s side. Harry pushed open the third door at the older wizard’s signal, to find two figures sprawled on the filthy floor. Neville moved to them as he fished his galleon out of his pocket and stowed his wand up his left sleeve. Pressing a finger from each of the thin boys in the tattered rags to the coin in his palm, he activated the portkey as Harry eased the door shut behind them.

As Remus and Ron pushed open the nest door, Harry heard a hiss behind him, and turned in time to see a familiar giant snake slither in to view.

“Nagini” he hissed in parseltongue.

The deadly creature moved to within striking distance of Remus, who had just closed the cell door on Ron. Harry stepped into the pool of dim light in the center of the corridor, ignoring the harsh glare and hand signal from Severus Snape.

“Where is that snake-faced bastard you call a master, Nagini?”

Remus stood absolutely still, as Harry saw Snape move through the shadows near the walls toward them. The snake reared up, her gigantic triangle shaped head turning toward him as she flicked her tongue out, tasting the air.

“You have grown very strong, young one, but you are not dark enough to defeat my Master” the snake hissed at him, rounded on the teen with a speed Harry would not have believed possible.

Harry danced back, drawing the snake away from his godfather. “Your ‘master’ is an evil coward who tortures defenseless muggles and children, Nagini, and I will kill him.”

Lightening quick, Nagini struck, huge fangs bared, but Harry was ready and hit her with the same spell that the Potions Master had used during his second year, instantly incinerating the serpent. As the acrid smell of burn flesh filled the air, sounds of a battle began to filter through the thick stone walls, and Harry could hear the ‘pop’ of Apparation. Quickly backing toward the wall where he’d last seen Professor Snape standing, the room was suddenly filled with black robed Death Eaters, and the flare of spell light lit up the hallway. He came up against Remus on his right and saw Snape’s tall form join them from the left. Keeping their backs to the wall, they trio began firing hexes at the advancing figures. Harry threw a blasting curse to one side with a wave of his hand as he used his wand to cast a stunning spell. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see more black clad figures filling the small space. Turning Harry stunned another Death Eater as he felt Remus stiffen and sag beside him, and dived to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Now!” Snape hissed in his ear, thrusting his galleon in front of Harry.

Grabbing one of Remus’ hands, Harry pressed it into the unconscious man’s hand, as Snape reached around him to press his finger on the edge. Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel as the Death Eaters screamed with fury, and he caught the flicker of blood-red eyes swing his direction and his head exploded in white-hot pain and everything went black.

The dimly lit hospital wing was silent when Harry opened his eyes, knowing immediately where he was from the familiar feel of the thin mattress under him and the smell that was unique to the place. Quickly checking the smooth walls in his mind for any breeches, the painful throbbing in his head told him that he’d had a particularly vicious episode. He figured Voldemort was probably a bit angry at the loss of his prisoners. He opening his eyes slowly, the blurry form of his godfather came into view beside him.

“Welcome back, Harry,” Remus told him as he handed him his glasses.

“As much as I hate portkeys, Remus, I really would rather be conscious when I land,” Harry rubbed his forehead.

“You have been out of it for a couple hours, son, which Severus feels is due to that sadistic bastard’s rage over the death of that bloody snake of his, more than anything else.”

Reaching towards the table beside the bed, Remus grabbed a vial of familiar blue potion and handed it to Harry, who downed it thankfully.

“Is everyone okay, Remus? What happened to the imposters, and the students we pulled out of the cells?

Remus took the empty vial from him, and let his fingers play with it. “Professor Sinistra and four of the students will be fine, they are thin and suffering from the effects of long term exposure to the Imperious Curse, but should recover. One of the young Hufflepuffs was dead when we got him back, and one of the Ravenclaw boys died just after he arrived here. Somehow, Bellatrix and Malfoy escaped or were already gone when the DA went up to get them, but the others were taken into custody without a fight, and the Aurors have taken them back to the Ministry.”

Harry nodded, saddened by the loss of two innocent students. “What next, Remus? Hogwarts doesn’t even seem to be safe anymore.”

“I don’t know, Harry, I don’t know, but right now you need to go back to sleep, as you have a couple more hours before you have to get up for class. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Harry’s eyes closed, and if he didn’t know better, he’d think the Potions Master had slipped a sleeping draught into his special potion.

It was almost breakfast time when Harry awoke next, and true to his word, Remus was still sitting by his bed. He handed Harry his school clothes and pointed him into the showers. At the far end of the ward, Harry could see that there were several beds screened off, and he figured that was where the injured students were. Cleaning up and dressing quickly, Harry walked with his godfather down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Breakfast turned out to be a subdued meal, with whispered word of the death of two students spreading like wildfire through the tables. Several Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls ran out of the Hall in tears, as Harry seated himself between Hermione and Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Around him, Harry could see the tired faces of DA members picking at their scrambled eggs, and he tried to smile at them, taking Ginny’s hand under the table as she leaned into his side. If it had not been for their actions, the other captive students would have died as well. Glancing at the Head Table, he could see Remus lean down to say something to the Headmaster, whose blue eyes seemed to have lost their twinkle as he nodded to Harry. Even Snape looked out of sorts, Harry thought.

Classes had been canceled for the day. As they were getting ready to leave, Professor Snape appeared behind him, and laid a warm hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Nice to see you out of bed, Mister Potter,” he lowered his voice, “the DA needs to meet upstairs right after breakfast, would you make sure they all know?”

At Harry’s nod, he swept down the table and out the door in a swirl of robes. Getting busy, the four of them fanned out through the tables. Word spread quickly, and everyone was at the door to the Room of Requirement several minutes later. Looking around, Harry opened the door and led the way in, tugging Ginny with him. With Ron and Hermione directly behind them, they stepped in to see that the room had been set up like a lecture hall, with rows of seats facing the front. Remus, Snape, and the Headmaster were already there, seated behind a large table that faced the room, a single chair set in front of it. Sliding in to the first row of seats and moving all the way down to the right side, Harry returned the smile Remus sent him, as the Headmaster looked up.

“Harry, my boy, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine sir, thank you.”

“Good, good.” The older man’s attention was taken as the Potions Master leaned in and said something to him.

Looking around the room as it filled, Harry could see that everyone but Michael Corner was there. The door opened again, and the room went quiet as the tall figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped in, allowing Tonks and an older witch to enter. Frowning, Harry tried to remember where he’d seen the woman before, remembering as he saw the monocle hanging down the front of her dark blue robes.

Leaning towards Hermione on his left, he whispered, “that’s Madame Bones, I remember her from my hearing last summer.”

“She’s head of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry” Ron added from Hermione’s other side.

“Good morning,” Albus Dumbledore stood before them, his lavender robes trimmed in silver “this morning we will be speaking to each of you about last nights events. “Before we start, however, I want to tell you how proud I am of each of you and the roll you played in getting the missing student and Professor Sinistra home. I would also like to add how proud I am that we removed nearly all of the imposters.”

Turning to his right, he extended his hand towards the Ministry witch.

“This is Madame Amelia Bones, head of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry of Magic; she is conducting an investigation into the deaths of two of our students. I expect you to answer all of her questions to the best of your ability. Please come forward when your name is called.”

Harry sat quietly for the next hour as each student was called up in turn, until finally Ron was called, and he was alone. Trying his best not to get nervous, he swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to lick suddenly dry lips. Remus materialized at his side with a goblet of water, amazing Harry once again with his perception. He drank thirstily before smiling up at his guardian.

“Thanks, Remus,” he said, handing back the goblet.

“Harry.”

He stood as the Headmaster called him, walking up to the chair the other students had sat in for their testimony. Across from him were Madame Bones flanked by the two Aurors, both of whom smiled at Harry. Rolls of parchment, quills and ink bottles littered the surface of the table, and Professor Snape stood to one side, assisting when needed.

“Mister Potter,” Madame Bones boomed out, her monocle screwed into to her cheek, “a pleasure to see you again!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said nervously as he sat down.

“No need to be nervous, boy, just tell us what happened, starting with how you were about to figure out that one of your classmates was an imposter.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry started from the conversation with Professor Snape about Michael Corner, and told them everything, with the exception of having an invisibility cloak. He explained the Marauders Map and how it worked, the encounter with the fake Hufflepuff in the Great Hall, and the role the DA would play. Finally, he told her what happened when they had arrived at the Riddle Manor, how they found the students, and Voldemort’s arrival. It had taken half an hour to retell the events, and Harry felt exhausted.

“You are sure this is exactly how this all transpired, Mister Potter?”

Harry brought his eyes up to meet those of the Ministry witch, knowing that Tonks had said she was impartial and fair, and gave her the benefit of the doubt.

“I would be willing to take Veritaserum, Madame Bones, if you would like.”

She met his eyes unflinching, and slowly smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Harry, you may go, and thank you.”

Harry nodded and started to stand when his scar gave a searing throb. With a groan, he grabbed the back of the chair and tried to keep going, not really wanting his weakness witnessed by a Ministry official. Another throb and he staggered, only to be caught by hands on each side of him, and he felt himself lifted. A vial was pressed against his lips, and Harry drank, leaning against the hands that held him. The pain receded, and Harry was able to open his eyes, seeing that he had been ushered to just outside the door of the Room of Requirement. Remus stood beside him, as did Professor Snape, and Harry looked up at them pleadingly.

“I have to find a way to stop this pain. How can I fight him if all he has to do is throw a temper tantrum and I’m on the ground, throwing up?”

Reaching out, Harry grasped Snape’s wrist, “Professor, is there something we haven’t done, or something we haven’t tried, that would help?”

“Calm down, Harry,” Snape turned them away from the door. “Remus and I will discuss it and talk to you later this evening.”

Remus who nodded, hands still resting on Harry’s shoulders, kept his voice low as well. With a gesture of his hands, he indicated Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who stood uncertainly next to the tapestry of Barnabas.

“Go on, Harry, get some snacks and take the others on a picnic in the courtyard or the Astronomy Tower. You are sixteen, son, and need to have time to just be a teenager, alright.”

Nodding, Harry moved to join the others and slipped his arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “Remus says we can go have a picnic in the courtyard, how about it?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up, and taking Ron’s hand, they moved by unspoken agreement towards the Gryffindor Tower to get ready. Harry tried to push the fears that he had to the back of his mind, knowing that he could not solve the problems that he faced in the next few hours. He knew that Remus was right, that they all needed a bit of a break after last night, but he was also realistic enough to know that there had to be a way to deaden the pain he felt in his scar, so that it did not incapacitate him every time Voldemort was angry or near him. There had to be a way.

Ginny tugged at his hand and Harry saw that they had fallen behind the other two. Stepping into a dark alcove, he pulled Ginny to him. Brushing her hair back, he took in the sweet smile she gave him, just before claiming her lips in a kiss.

Things began to settle into a more normal routine for the students and facility of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, following a memorial service for the two students killed by Lord Voldemort. The tragedy had the effect of bringing all the students closer together, regardless of House affiliation, due mainly to the encouragement of all people but Severus Snape. With the kidnapping of random students, Voldemort had shown those who might have been swayed to his side, that their lives had little or no value to him, and many Slytherins had approached their head of house for advice on how to avoid taking the Dark Mark.

Harry continued to experience searing pain in his scar, which he was managing as best as he could with the special potion that Professor Snape made for him. It prickled almost constantly as they went in to May, which presented a problem in getting a good nights sleep. The weather turned warm and sunny, and the courtyard areas became crowded, as the grounds had been deemed off limits to the students. Fifth years, including Ginny and Luna, were frantically studying for their OWLs and seventh years were equally frantic about their NEWTs. The full moon came and went with nary a problem.

Convinced that there had to be a way to prevent the pain that brought him to his knees, Harry had enlisted Hermione’s help in researching everything they could find on curse scares, as well as any information he could find on mind links. He felt increasingly frustrated as he read about soul-mate bonds, and parental bonds, but nothing that seem appropriate to his situation. In discussing the problem with Remus, and Professor Snape, neither seemed to take him seriously when Harry told them there had to be a way to prevent the pain. When he asked to speak to Dumbledore about is, the two adults had exchanged a look, and sent him back to the Gryffindor Tower as it was almost curfew time.

Harry fumed as he made his way up the staircase toward the tower, feeling like a little kid who had just been told they were naughty. There had to be a way to block the pain, just like he’d learn to block Voldemort from his mind with Occlumency. Finding the common room deserted, he threw himself into his favorite chair and stared into the hearth. How could he be this powerful wizard who was supposed to defeat Voldemort when you couldn’t keep from throwing his guts up every time the evil git got mad? Knowing how vulnerable he was leaving himself, Harry closed his eyes and sank into his mind, smoothing the stone walls that protected his mind, sinking deeper.

“Sirius?”

The stone chamber was chilly, the raised dais in the center held the ancient stone archway with the tattered black veil, gently swaying in a non-existent whisper of a breeze. Sitting down on the edge of the dais, near the archway, Harry could feel the coldness of it radiating outward.

“Harry, how are you?”

The beloved husky voice wrapped itself around him like a warm embrace, and Harry smiled.

“I’m okay, Sirius, still here, still fighting.”

“You sound frustrated, Harry, tell me what’s been going on.”

Feeling weary, Harry related everything that had happened since he’d last visited with his godfather, told him how he was progressing with the Phoenix pendant and his training with wandless magic; the details of the battle at King’s Cross Station; and relayed how they had discovered the kidnapped students and rescued them. He also gave voice to his frustration over the not being able to block out the pain he felt in his scar.

“There has got to be some way, Sirius, there has to be! I’m not going to be able to defeat him if I can’t even stay on my feet when he’s angry.”

His godfather was silent for several long minutes. “Harry, tell me more about what happens when you use your magic from inside.”

Harry blinked, thinking. “Do you mean how I tap into my magical core?”

“More like what you see, or envision when you are doing that.”

“Well, I envision a golden ball of magic inside me, and then when I use it, the magic is golden, like spell light, and I see it as gold.”

“Have you ever tried to envision the dark magic in your scar?”

“No, I’d never thought of doing anything like that.”

“You say that Snape’s been helping you with your training?”

“Yes, he’s actually been great, Sirius.”

“Do you think that he would trust you enough to let you touch his Dark Mark?”

Harry was taken back, “why would I ask to do that?”

“Because you would be able to feel and envision Voldemort’s dark magic there before trying to feel it and block it in your scar, Harry. You have always been very perceptive when it comes to being able to ‘feel’ dark magic, and I’m just wondering if you can use that ability to isolate his magic by color and somehow redirect it, so that the pain doesn’t take you to your knees.”

Harry mulled this over in his mind, and the scary thing for him was that it seemed to make perfect sense. “When I have the visions of Voldemort, everything seems to be tinted red, like the bastard’s eyes; maybe I should be looking for red magic.”

“It could be, Harry, but you must promise me that you will talk to Snape first, and make sure that Remus and Dumbledore know what you are doing, because if something goes wrong, well, you know what you would suffer.”

Harry shivered, he knew exactly the pain he would experience if Voldemort was able to gain assess to his mind. The worst thing he could do was to weaken the barriers he had finally learned how to use to protect himself.

“I am willing to give anything a try, Sirius, and I promise I will not try it by myself. It is the best idea that anyone has managed to come up with so far.”

“It’s a little wild, but it just might work.”

“It might, I’ll have to let you know, and Sirius, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, son, so very much.”

Harry woke up freezing, the fire long since down to embers in the hearth, and ran up to the dorm to crawl into bed. Hearing Ron and Neville’s snores, and all the hangings drawn on the other bed, Harry tiptoed to his four-poster. Rushing through his nightly routine, brushing his teeth and throwing on his pajamas, he scrambled into bed. Clearing his mind, he went back to sleep, his heart lighter than it had been in a month.

“Harry! Come on, mate, you’re going to be late for breakfast!” Ron shook him again.

Harry shot up, took in the redhead’s fully dressed state and scrambled. Five minutes later, he met Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in the common room and they made their way down to the Great Hall. Tucking Ginny’s hand into his, Harry ate his breakfast without noticing what he was eating. Mulling over the conversation with Sirius in his mind, he missed the conversation going on around him, as the owls arrived with the morning post.

“Harry!” Hermione nudged him with her elbow.

Looking up, Harry could see that she was gesturing at the front page of the Daily Prophet, where there was a large picture of Cornelius Fudge was smugly waving as if to a crowd.

MINISTER OF MAGIC MISSING!
Hermione began to read the article out loud, how Fudge had disappeared from his residence overnight, despite the protective fields and Auror team that guarded him. No one had been hurt, according to Madame Bones, now the acting Minister of Magic, Fudge had simply vanished into thin air. There was no evidence of kidnapping or the Voldemort was involved, Fudge was just, gone.

“Coward probably left on his own, scare off or paid off,” Ron snorted.

“It does seem rather strange that he would just disappear now, when things have quieted down a bit,” Hermione mused thoughtfully.

Harry could only nod, many different possibilities circling in his mind, but the one that surface the most often was accompanied by the mental picture of Fudge in the corridor outside of the court room at the Ministry of Magic after his hearing with the full Wizengamut, with Lucius Malfoy. If anyone could get close to Fudge, it would have been that slimy henchman of Voldemort. There was just no way that Voldemort could not have had something to do with the disappearance of the head of the magical government.

Looking up, he saw Professor Dumbledore in a whispered conversation with Professor McGonagall at the head table. Remus seemed to be just as intently conversing with Professor Snape, as the two poured over the front page of the Prophet.

Pressing a kiss to Ginny’s cheek, Harry stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Making his way up the front, Harry stood patiently in front of the Headmaster waiting to be acknowledged. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Snape nudge his guardian, and the room behind his quiet down. Rolling his eyes, he saw that the twinkling blue eyes rested on his face with fondness.

“Good morning, Harry, did you need to speak to me?”

“Good morning, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall. When you have a moment, sir, yes, uh, Sirius had an idea that I would like to speak to you about.”

The Headmaster sat forward, the shrewd eyes peering deeply into the emerald green, as if to assess the immediacy of the need. “Would you like to go now, my boy, or would it be more opportune to do this later?”

Thinking of the promise he had made to Sirius and the potential danger of what he wanted to attempt, Harry sighed. “Later, sir, as I think Remus and Professor Snape should be there.”

“As you wish, Harry, we will meet right after dinner tonight, alright?”

Nodding his agreement, Harry made a point of saying good morning to his guardian and the Potions Master before joining his friends at the door to the Great Hall. Being Friday, Harry knew that his classes would be hard enough to keep his mind occupied, even if it appeared that someone had put a spell on the clock that made the day seem twice as long as it should be. At least, he had the satisfaction of during double potions that afternoon, of watching Snape prowl the room with vengeance, shooting him speculative looks. Harry smirked as he watched his potion shimmer gently to a light aqua blue, knowing that it was perfect. Potions had become one of his favorite classes, with the absence of animosity from the teacher, and no Malfoy to sabotage what he was trying to brew.

Somehow he survived the afternoon, did his homework under the less then gentle wrath of Hermione, and picked at his dinner of kidney pie. Leaving his friends at the Gryffindor table, annoyed with him because he would not tell them what he was doing, Harry followed Remus out of the Great Hall. Harry was sure that his godfather had an idea of what he was doing, with Remus’ ability to practically read his mind, and he hoped that the older man would not be upset with him after he laid out his plan.

Professor Snape was already seated with the Headmaster when they reached the office at the top of the revolving staircase. Sitting nervously at the edge of his seat, Harry politely refused the offer of tea and biscuits. When all the pleasantries were over, Albus Dumbledore sat back at looked at Harry expectantly.

“Uh, I think maybe Sirius has come up with an idea to get rid of the pain I feel when Voldemort gets angry, by using my scar and Professor Snape’s Mark to turn the dark magic back around and force it back into Voldemort’s mind.”

A stunned silence deafened the room, before all hell broke loose.

Remus and Snape were immediately on their feet, both shouting at him. Remus’ usually calm face was flushed red, and Harry took a step back, memories of Uncle Vernon’s rages surfacing from the back of his mind, before realizing that his guardian would never hurt him. Glancing at the Headmaster, who was now on the receiving end of a tirade for the Potions Master, he saw the man wore a bemused expression. Whether from Harry’s statement or the explosion of noise, Harry could not tell. Letting the noise roll off him, Harry waited them out. As the room quieted, he stood and waited until Albus Dumbledore waved the two men back into their seats.

“Harry, would you care to elaborate on your theory.”

“I have been researching bonds, curse scars, and any reference I could find to mind links. As you know, most bonds are beneficial and entered into willingly, like in a soul mate or parental bond. Bonds that are accidental or forced often result in the death of one or both of the parties. Based on the research I can find, it is likely that when Voldemort dies, so will I.”

Harry paused to let that sink in, halfway expecting another explosion, instead there was silence, and he saw a look of despair flash across the Headmaster’s face, which seemed to confirm his theory.

“I spoke to Sirius last night, and he reminded me that I have always been able to sense dark magic. He had the idea that I might be able to ‘see’ the strand of magic in my scar, like I ‘see’ my magic when we are training in wandless and amplified magic. If I can do that, then I might be able to isolate the link enough to stop the pain it causes, or even take that a step further, and be able to severe the link or even push it back in to Voldemort’s mind.”

‘NO!” Remus was on his feet again.

Harry looked at him sadly, “Remus, you have to accept that I probably won’t survive this war, and it’s more a question of dying well, than just sacrificing myself to kill Voldemort.”

“Harry…”

“Don’t get me wrong, Remus, I do not want to die, but I can’t go into this without accepting that, or I will be nutters before I can even try, and if I don’t do something about what I go through whenever he is having a temper tantrum, I will fail.”

“Harry,” Professor Dumbledore studied him over the top of the half-moon spectacles. “What does this have to do with Professor Snape and his dark mark?”

Holding the bright blue eyes with the intensity of his emerald green gaze, Harry continued, even as he could feel the scrutiny of the Potions Master’s dark eyes. “I would like to test my theory on the Professor’s mark, as it would have the same strand of Voldemort’s magic in it, and it would be safer to start there as it is not a direct link to his mind.”

The Headmaster had started nodding halfway through Harry’s explanation. “It might be worth trying, if you are willing, Severus?”

Turning, Harry met the obsidian gaze, his determination fueling his Gryffindor courage.

“What would be wrong with letting me just try, Professor? I don’t think it will hurt.”

His humor earned him a smirk from the older wizard, as Snape studied his face. “Do you really think this will be beneficial to you, Harry?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Harry’s answer was soft and sincere.

The older wizard nodded slowly and turned back to look at the Headmaster, as Remus Lupin sat heavily in his chair.

“What do you need to prepare before you try, Harry?” Dumbledore asked him, hands folded on the desk in front of him.

“I have everything I need, sir, if Professor Snape is ready.”

Kneeling to the side of the Potions Master’s chair, Harry waiting until he took off his outer robes and unbuttoned the cuff on his white button down shirt, rolling the sleeve up past the mark. As Harry took the man’s wrist in his hand, he turned the arm over and gasped. The black skull and snake mark on the Professor’s forearm was swollen, and circled by angry red flesh.

“He has been using this to punish you, hasn’t he, sir?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yes.” Snape’s face was hid behind a curtain of black hair.

“Maybe we can turn it around on him, sir, if you are ready?”

At the other man’s nod, Harry covered the mark with the palm of his right hand, and closed his eyes. Sinking into his magical core, he felt the golden force pulse and pushed out to find the dark magic that he could feel tingle his palm. With infinite care, Harry guided his magic into the black mark, immediately finding red strands of dark magic anchoring it in the skin and underlying nerves and flesh. Bringing the golden strands up against the first of the dark red ties anchoring the dark magic, hr carefully severed the red strand at the muscle. As if from a long distance, Harry heard a hiss of pain and felt the arm in his hands tighten. Redirecting his magic, he moved on to the next red strand, but this time he circled it with his magic, sealing it in the golden glow, where the angry red strand slowly dissolved.

There was no sound of pain this time, and Harry could feel the muscles relax in Snape’s arm. He continued to methodically isolate each strand of red-black magic anchoring the ugly mark to the flesh. Harry lost all sense of time, concentrating on the task in front of him, oblivious to anything else. When he got to the last strand, it pulsed a burning black-red and he knew that the Potions Master must be feeling it, but was this something that was normal, or did Voldemort know what he was doing? As he carefully insulated the strand, Harry could feel the anger and hate pulsing through it. With grim determination, he smothered the last link and severed the last hold the Dark Lord had over the man. There was one final flare of gold that seemed to eat through the mark that marred the pale skin.

Pulling his magic carefully back into himself, Harry slowly surfaced from the almost trance like state of concentrate. His hands still held fast on to Snape’s forearm, but Harry was surprised to find that he was leaning heavily against the man’s leg, his thighs cramping and knees numb. Trying to straighten up, he found that he was dizzy, and he felt weak, his limbs simply not obeying. Glancing at the arm he held, Harry was astounded to find that the ugly black mark had completely disappeared.

“Harry?” Remus Lupin was at his side, hands gripping his shoulders. “Can you get up?”

“I don’t know, my legs are kind of numb,” Harry muttered truthfully.

Remus helped him to his feet and steadied him, as Harry ventured a glance at Professor Snape. The normally stoic man stared down at the unblemished skin of his left forearm in bewilderment, running a finger across the area as if to confirm what his eyes told him. Stumbling, Harry made it back to his chair and slumped into it.

“Severus, are you alright?” There was a touch of concern in the Headmaster’s voice.

Professor Snape looked up, an unreadable emotion in the dark eyes. “The mark is gone, Albus.”

Dumbledore moved around his desk, and bent over to examine the arm. Harry followed his movements wearily; feeling like his energy had been drained. The Headmaster conjured a tea tray with a wave of his wand, and moved to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry, how do you feel? I would think you were exhausted, my boy, do you realize that it took you over two hours to remove Severus’ mark?”

His head snapped up in surprise. “What?”

The Headmaster examined his face carefully, and Harry smiled tiredly at him. That would explain why he felt like he had played a full Quidditch match. He turned slightly, and watched as the Potions Master slowly rolled down his sleeve, before accepting a cup of tea.

“I am sorry if I hurt you, Professor, I tried not to.”

“I did not experience any untold discomfort, but you continue to amaze me, Mister Potter, as your magic grows to unprecedented levels.” Snape met his eyes. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry could feel the goofy smile that spread across his face. “You are very welcome, Professor.”

Dumbledore settled back behind his desk, and sipped at his tea. “Can you tell us what you did, Harry?”

Cupping the warm tea in his hand, Harry explained what he had used his magic, and how he had severed the strand of magic that tied the mark to Professor Snape. He admitted to being surprised when his magic had removed the mark in its entirety. Answering the questions the adults had for him; Harry tried to give them the most truthful answers, but acknowledged that is was difficult to explain exactly how his magic did things.

“It is almost as if my magic responds to what I want it to do, but I am not sure why it does this or even how it does it. I knew that Professor Snape had suffered, both with the pain that Voldemort caused through the mark, and with the constant reminder of it. I guess my magic did what it thought best, and just took it away.” He finished apologetically.

“I am gratefully for your ability, Harry, and do not regret that the mark has been removed.” Snape interjected quietly.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry smiled at him.

“Harry,” the Headmaster pinned him with a piercing gaze, his blue eyes intent over the half-moon spectacles, “this ability you have to envision and direct your magic is extremely rare and not something that should be discussed outside this room.”

“Great, something else ‘abnormal” about me, and only Hermione knows about it, as she was helping me do the research” Harry grumbled.

“I trust Miss Granger is not going to pass the information on to Lord Voldemort, Harry. I am concerned, however, on how you will be able to apply this to yourself with out completely severing the link you share through your scar.”

Harry put down his teacup and leaned forward. “I need to isolate which of the strands from my scar are linked to nerves in my brain. With Professor Snape’s dark mark, some of the magic was anchored in muscle and some in nerves. If that is the case, then I should be able to cut off the pain without losing the ability to see what Voldemort is up to.”

“It concerns me that what you want to do might alert him to the true depth of your link, Harry, as I do believe that he is still unaware of your ability to witness the things you do through your link.”

“I know there is a risk, sir, but how am I going to be effective against him if he can bring me to my knees through the pain in my scar?” Harry asked, doing his best to hold on to his temper.

“I agree that this may be a solution to that problems, Harry, I would just like to make sure we have taken all the precautions we can before you try. You have been putting up with the pain for a long time, is asking you to wait a few more days going to make a difference?”

Harry hated it when Dumbledore was reasonable like this; he just wanted to get it over with. “No sir, I suppose not. What is it that you want me to do?”

“I would like you and Remus to meet with Professor Snape tomorrow after classes, to go over everything you can with Occlumency, and see if you can come up with anything else that might protect you if Voldemort should attempt to push into your mind while you do this. I also want you to wait until you are well rested and can take several hours to make your attempt.”

Harry saw the Headmaster and Remus exchange a glance.

“And you will make this attempt in the hospital wing as a precaution.”

A weight lifted off of Harry shoulders and he readily agreed to the conditions, elated that he was going to be allowed to try. He readily agreed to the terms, and fell in to bed as soon as he got back to his dorm with a feeling of accomplishment.

As Harry’s luck would have it, he did not have long to wait to learn Voldemort’s reaction to his new found ability, as he knew that the Dark Lord would probably be able to perceive any tampering with the links he branded on his followers. Even though he took all the precautions he could, sealing his mind tightly, the mental attack that hit him in the early morning hours was more an exercise in excruciating pain than anything else. Having taken the precaution of placing a silencing charm around his four-poster, the gut-wrenching screams went unnoticed by his dorm mates, knowing there was nothing that would help him this time.

Whispering voices penetrated the edge of the darkness that surrounded him, and a small voice in the corner of his mind told him that he was probably in a lot of trouble. His brain felt sore, his head pounding with pain, and his stomach rolled ominously, as Harry pulled himself towards the brightness beyond his closed eyes. A small hand carding through his hair brought a smile to his face, as he forced an eye open. The smell alone told him he was back in the hospital wing, somewhere down the line of beds someone moaned pitifully, and he was afraid it had been him. Another hand rested reassuringly on his shoulder.

“Harry?” Ginny’s blurry face swam into view, her hand still resting in his hair.

His stomach churned, and the larger hand pulled him on to his side, shoving a basin under his face as he retched. Rolling to his back, Harry took the glasses that suddenly appeared in front of his nose, and allowed Ron to help his sit up. The lanky redhead handed him a vial of blue potion and then another vial of light pink, which Harry recognized as a pain draught. Hermione’s concerned face joined the others as he handed the empty vials back.

“Bloody hell, Harry, that was one of the worse ones you’ve had!” Ron exclaimed.

“Not to mention that Remus is furious with you for putting up the silencing charm,” Hermione added.

“There wasn’t anything that he, or you guys, could have done this time.”

Harry’s throat was raw and voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. Ginny reached over and took his hand, as Ron handed him a goblet of water wrapping his own hand around Harry’s trembling one to help him drink. With muttered thanks, he leaned back against the pillows.

“What happened, Harry?” Hermione asked softly, seeing Harry dart a look around the room, she added, “it’s lunch time and we’re sitting with you while the others are eating.”

Sipping on the water, he swore them to secrecy and began to tell them in general terms what had happened in the Headmaster’s office the prior night. Hermione gasped as he described what he had done with Professor Snape’s dark mark, and how it had disappeared. Having helped him research magical bonds and marks, she would know more than the other two exactly what extent he had gone to in order to remove the mark.

“And you think that Voldemort was able to feel you doing that, Harry?” His brown haired friend asked.

“Yes,” he answered, “and I put up the silencing charm because I knew I would be feeling his anger, and there’s nothing anyone can do to help when that happens.”

“Which is about what I figured, young man, and you should have known to tell me so that you could have stayed with me last night or come down here to the hospital wing.” Remus Lupin stepped around the curtains placed to provide privacy, a stern look on his tired face. “I am not happy that you laid up in the dorm, screaming in pain for who knows how long. No one knew.”

Harry had the grace to look embarrassed, and dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Lunch is almost over, so you lot get down there, and I will send Harry to you after I flay him a bit.”

Remus made shooing motions with his hands, and looked the other way as Ginny pressed a lingering kiss to the young wizard’s lips before running to catch up to her brother and his girlfriend. Pink tinged the pale cheeks of the teenager, but he met his godfather’s eyes unflinchingly.

“It is a good thing that it is Saturday, young man, and you haven’t missed any more classes,” the good-natured man told him with a hint of steel in his voice, “and if I ever catch you doing something like this again, I will move you into my rooms for the rest of the term.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry dropped his eyes, feeling guilty for having upset the older wizard, “I’m sorry, Remus.”

A hand fell his shoulder, and he looked up miserably, glad to see that his guardian was now smiling at him.

“Severus was rather dismayed that you had suffered…”

“That you had suffered in true Gryffindor style, alone, instead of where you might have been taken care of, Mister Potter.” The stoic Potions Master stepped up to his bedside. “Just when I believe you have final gained access to the intelligence, I find that fear is hopelessly locked some where in that brain of yours. And when we might actually survive this war, Potter, you do something idiotic.”

Harry looked up with a frown at the sharp words. There was no bite in the tone, but he saw an anxious frown on the older man’s face. He sighed, and watched as the Headmaster and his Head of House both followed Professor Snape to his bedside.

“Harry, my boy, how are you feeling?” Albus Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry’s forehead.

“Better, sir,” Harry answered, truly wishing everyone would just go away, “I didn’t know the reaction was going to be quite that, uh, forceful, sir, and no, I won’t be doing it again, Professor.”

The Headmaster smiled down at him. “Ah, I see Severus has expressed his views to you, Harry.”

“He and Remus both, sir.”

“Good, please heed them in the future. For now, Madame Pomfrey said you could leave when ever you felt up to it.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry was all for everyone leaving him alone.

It was mid-afternoon that Harry finally climbed through the portrait hole and collapsed into the chair Ginny vacated for him, before she settled back down on his lap. As she snuggled to his chest, Harry told them he’d been cleared by the medi-witch, who made him eat lunch before she let him leave. Catching Hermione’s eye, he gave her a significant look, and she smoothly changed the subject to homework, which led to a debate on whether to get their studying out of the way, or spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.

Harry and Hermione left to go to the library later while Ron and Ginny played a game of wizard chess. Along the way, Harry explained to his best friend exactly what had happened when he had pushed his magic into the Dark Mark on Snape arm. He told her what the Headmaster had said about doing all the research they could in the next week, especially in the area of mind links, and bonds. As they walked past the Great Hall, Harry was relaying in a low voice how the he had snapped the magical strands when a hand grabbed his upper arm and pulled him to a stop.

“Really, Potter, you need to watch where you are going in the hallways!” The tall black clad figure of the Potions Master stood beside him. “I want both of you in my office now!”

Harry blinked up at Professor Snape in surprise, before being spun around and sent towards the dungeons. Seeing that Hermione kept her face focused on the floor the entire way to Snape’s office, Harry wasn’t sure whether they were truly in trouble or not. Stepping into the dimly lit office never failed to cause a shudder to running down Harry’s spine; the room held some of his worst memories. Slamming the door closed behind him with a wave of his hand, Harry watched as the older wizard pushed past them in a flurry of robes. A muttered spell warded the door and threw up silencing charms, and the fireplace blazed. Two chairs stood in front of the desk, and Harry’s head snapped up as a tea tray materialized on the desk top.

“Close your mouth, Mister Potter, before something flies in, and sit down.”

The smirk on the shallow face could almost be called a smile, Harry thought, as he sat. Hermione made a noise that sounded a lot like a snigger, but she just looked back at him as she sat in the next chair. Severus Snape settled himself behind his desk and poured three cups of tea.

“I take it you are fully recovered from last night, Harry?”

Taking the cup handed to him, Harry nodded as he took a sip. “And you, sir?”

“Mine was nothing but a twinge, I only regret that it took me as long as it did to ascertain the source,” the Potions Master waved away his concern, “you had been in pain for…”

Harry found himself staring blankly at the older wizard, having no idea what the man was talking about.

“You did not tell him, Miss Granger?”

“I have hardly had the opportunity, Professor!” Hermione protested, her teacup clattering on to the desk.

Looking back and forth between them, Harry was feeling very confused, and he looked beseeching at his best friend.

“Professor Snape felt your attack this morning, went to Remus, and that’s how they found you,” Hermione told him, “I was going to tell you when we got to the library.”

Swinging back to stare at the dark haired man behind the desk, Harry found that he was watching them intently. “How?”

“I am not certain, Harry, although the Headmaster believes it may have as much to do with the Occlumency lessons as with what happened earlier last night. Never the less, it may be something that will prove helpful should you need assistance next Saturday.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, not understanding what Snape was trying to say.

Picking up a thin black leather bound book from the corner of his desk, Professor Snape leaned toward him, placing it in Harry’s outstretched hand. He examined the title Mind Links: A Study of Occlumency and Legilimency.

“What exactly does this mean, sir?” Harry was uncomfortable with the thought that Snape could really read his mind now.

“It means that I might be able to help you insulate your mind while you try and sever the connection with the Dark Lord, or at least know if something goes wrong,” The dark eyes met his solemnly, “and at least be able to tell the Headmaster.”

Harry swallowed, still not sure whether he like the idea of anyone being able to gain access to his mind, no matter how benevolent. It was bad enough that he was linked with Voldemort through his blasted scar, but the idea that both Dumbledore and Snape had some kind of access, too, was a bit creepy. Glancing at the book in his hand, Harry wondered if this might be something that would actually help.

“Professor, if I am focused on severing the magical strand that causes my pain, and Vold…the Dark Lord does try to force his way through the link, you could at least warn me, couldn’t you?”

“I think I might be able to, but we won’t know until we try. That book does describe a somewhat similar situation, and how Legilimency was an aid to the solution. I think you still need to spend the week research other types of bonds and such, as the Headmaster indicated, but add this text as well.”

Harry nodded, turning to Hermione. “Professor Dumbledore said you could be there with me, Hermione, next Saturday.”

“Of course, Harry, and I will help you with the research as well.”

“Well then, I guess we need to get started,” Standing up, Harry replaced his teacup on the tray, and Hermione did the same, “Thank you, sir for your help.”

“I am afraid we will need all the help we can get in this venture, Mister Potter.”

The week passed quickly, between regular classes, defense training, and the extra research. Hermione helped as much as she could, and they could often be found with their heads together in the library, flanked by Ron and Ginny doing their homework. The week drug on for the group, and Harry felt like he was running from class to class as well as to the library, trying to keep up on regular schoolwork as well as his special defense classes and Occlumency lessons. The only time he noticed the weather was when he had to walk out to the green houses for Herbology, but was pleasantly surprised to see that flowers were blooming and sun felt warm on his face. He stopped for a moment one afternoon, just to let the warm rays shine on his face, remembering the days when he could take time to enjoy the sun.

With his scar continuing to prickle and the weight of the weekend bearing down him, Harry found that he was getting little rest. While he had not suffered through any visions that week, there was enough discomfort in his scar, as well as old nightmares about Cedric and Sirius that gave him little reprieve. By Friday evening at dinner, he was hollowed eyed and had little appetite, managing only to force some Shepard’s pie down to appease Hermione and Ginny. He felt the scrutiny of several pairs of eyes from the head table, and looked up to see that not only Remus, but also Snape and the Headmaster were frowning at him. Harry sighed wearily, glad that by this time tomorrow, he’d ether have done the deed, or, he was sure, failed in spectacular fashion.

Returning to the common room with Ron and Hermione, Ginny’s fingers entwined with his, Harry collapsed on to the couch in front of the fireplace. He laid his head back, only to have Ginny turned him around and lay him down so that his head was in her lap, her small hand carding gently through the soft raven hair. The gesture instantly calmed him, and he grinned, turning his head to pressing a kiss into the thigh under his head, and laughed as she shifted restlessly.

“Stop that and lay still, before Ron forgets he’s your best mate, and remembers I’m his little sister.” Hot breath whispered in his ear.

With a grin, Harry relaxed, letting his mind float into a foggy state, where nothing was registering, and he was warmly adrift. Blissfully, the comforting hand stroking his hair, he slipped into sleep.

The dark chamber flickered eerily in the torchlight, a red haze colored the black robes and white masks of the figures in a circle around him. A bloodied, naked body lay on the cold stone floor at his feet, twitching from the after effects of the Cruciatus. One of the hooded figures viciously kicked as the man attempted to grab the bottom of his robes.

“Please, Master, I did everything you wanted! I told the wizarding world you were not back; made both Dumbledore and the Potter boy look stupid, I was a loyal servant to you! Spare my life, Master, so that I may continue to serve you!”

The evil insane cackle bounced off the stonewalls of the chamber, and he felt disgusted by the whining and begging mass of flesh under his gaze. He pointed his long dark wand at the man.

“You have outlived your usefulness, Cornelius. Our world has lost faith in you, and you will be replaced by another that I can’t control. That muggle-loving fool has considerable influence, and your actions did nothing to minimize that. You waste my time. Avada…”

Harry knew it was a vision, and struggled to use all his strength to pull back from behind the red eyes. Weaving his way out of the deep red into black, he followed a strand of his golden magic back, the impression of climbing out of darkness and into the light was overwhelming. As he continued back, he came to the scar on his forehead, a bright green jagged mark colored by the killing curse that hit him as a baby. There was pressure behind him, and Harry knew that he was going to be in agony as soon as this over took him. Fervently, he traced back until he could see the strands of angry dark red that constituted Voldemort’s link to him, and watched as the darkest strand, so red that it was almost black, started to vibrate as the pain finally caught up and overwhelmed him. His thin hold on consciousness was snapped.

A comforting hand still stroked through his hair, and another rubbed his back in slow circles, and as awareness flooded through him, Harry stomach churned ominously. Groaning, he tried to push away, but hands firmly held him as a basin was shoved under his face.

“It’s okay, mate, just let go, we have you,” Ron’s soothing voice reassured him, as it had done so many times in the past, and Harry vomited in to the basin.

A vial was pressed to his lips, as his head was tilted back, and Harry swallowed his special potion thankfully. As soon as the world stopped spinning, he carefully sat up and opened his eyes. The common room had been cleared of everyone but the four teens, Remus and Professor Dumbledore. Remus handed him a goblet of water, which Harry took gratefully and sipped. Looking up, he met the bright blue eyes of the Headmaster.

“I think you need to see this one, sir,” Harry told him quietly.

At the Headmaster’s nod, Remus steadied Harry as he climbed to his feet. Pressing a kiss to the top of Ginny’s head, he exchanged glances with Hermione, and dipped his head in the affirmative to her unspoken question. He had isolated the strand of magic that he believed was causing him the excruciating pain during his contacts with the dark wizard. Following the adults out of the common room, Harry walked silently towards the Headmaster’s office. He knew that Professor Dumbledore would be saddened by this vision, as it would confirm to him exactly what kind of a man the Minister of Magic had been.

Professor Snape was waiting for them at the gargoyle, and Harry did not even stop to wonder how he knew. They rode up the spiral staircase in silence and settled into chairs in front the large desk, as the Headmaster retrieved his Pensieve from the black cabinet near Fawkes’ perch. As Professor Dumbledore seated himself, Harry stood and moved to the edge of the desk, concentrating on the vision as he removed the strand of shimmering silver from his temple. Dropping it into the dark viscous liquid of the rune lined basin, he watched the strand glow and swirl, before he prodded it with his wand.

As he watched the scene unfold, he covertly studied the face of the Headmaster. Many emotions flashed across it, recognition, surprise, betrayal, and then sadness. Just as Harry reached to gather his memory back, a hand fell on his arm, and the others watched as Harry traced the strand of magic back into his own mind, showing them what it was he saw when he located the painful strand.

Retrieving the strand from the liquid, Harry sat back down in his armchair, his fingers straying to stroke the phoenix pendant around his neck. It was an unconscious gesture that he had developed as of late when he was studying or reading, the warmth of the metal seemed to comfort him. In the special defense lessons that he had been taking with the three men sitting with him, Harry was learning to direct and amplify his magical powers and the pendant centered him for his wandless magic as well.

“Thank you, Harry, as difficult as that was to witness, I am glad that we know now what happened, and can move forward. I will contact Arthur Weasley as he had been appointed interim Deputy Minister of Magic, and will have direct access to the acting Minister of Magic, Madame Bones.”

“Yes, sir, although I am not sure many in the Ministry will take one of my ‘visions’ as an accurate version of what happened.”

“I am sure, based on past practice, that we will soon find Cornelius’ body in some very public wizarding place, such as Diagon Alley. As usual, Lord Voldemort will be striving for the manner that will produce the most shock and fear from the wizarding world.”

“Harry,” Professor Snape interjected, “the dark strand of magic that you were able to locate connected to your scar is the one you believe is causing you pain when you experience these visions?”

“Yes, sir, I believe so. I am not sure whether disconnecting the strand will help me when I am in the presence of Voldemort, but you saw how black and angry that strand was, so I don’t think I have anything to lose,” he told the older wizard.

Remus reached over and laid a hand on his arm; “It seemed like you were able to hold the pain back while you traced that strand back. That took an incredible amount of control and concentration, Harry, and I am very proud of you. Do you feel you are ready for tomorrow?”

Smiling faintly, Harry nodded; “I am as ready as I will ever be, Remus, I just know that I can’t continue to let Voldemort have this kind of control over me.”

“Take this, Harry, and make sure that you get a good nights sleep,” the Potions Master handed Harry a vial of potion.

Taking it, Harry recognized the color as being that of Dreamless Sleep potion, and thanked the dark hair man quietly. With a nod from the Headmaster, he and Remus said their goodnights and left the office. Walking back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry felt a sense of calm settle over him. He knew with the death of Cornelius Fudge, the wizarding world would be coming into a new era, and if he had his way, it would soon be free of the evil threat that overshadowed it.

With a quiet word, and a hug from his godfather, Harry made his way into the common room where his friends still waited for him. Dislodging Ginny from the chair she was sitting in, he tugged her back down on to his lap as he sat. In a low voice, Harry relayed to them the contents of the vision, and what had transpired afterwards. He let them know that the attempt to break the painful connection with Voldemort would happen tomorrow morning, as scheduled. They sat for awhile, discussing the immediate future of the Ministry of Magic, before they separated to go up to the dorms. With a lingering kiss and a reminder to take the sleep potion, Ginny and Hermione headed up, while he and Ron trudged up the stairs to the sixth year boys dorm, where their dorm mates were already asleep.

Harry sleep soundly, not waking up until breakfast was almost over. He carefully dressed in muggle-style jeans and a Weasley jumper. He had sent Ron on ahead, telling him that he’d meet them after they all had eaten, knowing he would not be able to stomach anything until after the try this morning. Add to that, the feeling that he would just throw it up anyway.

Making his way down to the common room, Harry stood at the window looking over the area where Voldemort had staged his attack just before the school year had started. The sun was shinning warmly, and Harry leaned out the open window, taking in a lungful of clean, sweet scented air. It was a perfect day, and ironically, should have been the day that Gryffindor clinched the Quidditch Cup in its annual final game against Ravenclaw. A powerful anger welled up in Harry for a moment, knowing how much had been taken from all the students, the facility, not to mention the wizarding world itself, by one snake-faced bastard who thrived on the fear and terror he caused. Taking deep, calming breaths, Harry vowed again to do the best he could to fulfill the Prophecy, and play out the cards that destiny had handed him.

That was how Ron, Hermione, and Ginny found him, hands clenched on the window sill, his face set in a grim expression. Slipping her hand into his on one side, Ginny kissed him softly on the cheek, while Hermione slipped an arm around his waist and leaned into his other side. Ron stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder. Harry was instantly warmed and calmed by the presence of his best friends, and smiled down at Ginny before turning and leaning in suddenly to kiss Ron on the cheek.

“Eww! You know I love you, mate, but I just don’t lean in that direction!” Ron scrubbed a hand over his face as the rest of them laughed.

Making their way up to the hospital wing, Ginny rattling on nervously about how those in her year were dealing with the stress of the upcoming OWLs. Colin Creevy was already being dosed with calming potions, particularly after a double potions class, making the sixth years laugh. Madame Pomfrey was waiting for them, and ushered the teens to the far end of wing, where a lone bed had been isolated behind a bank of curtains. Remus and Professor Snape were already waiting, sitting in the two chairs that flanked the bed. Another row of chairs were lined up along the wall under the windows, close enough to observe, but out of the way should something happen.

Harry hugged his friends, before taking off his shoes and sitting on the bed.

“Alright, Harry?” Remus asked quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I think so, Moony,” using the old Marauders’ nickname for his guardian. “I slept really well, thanks to the sleeping potion Professor Snape gave me. And I feel good this morning.”

“I am glad, as I know that this is going to take a lot of energy out of you.”

Madame Pomfrey walked in with Albus Dumbledore, moving towards the bed, where the medi-witch began to fuss over him. Harry rolled his eyes at her clucking and lay down on the bed at her prompting. Once everyone was certain they were situated, seated, and ready to let Harry make his attempt, he was almost asleep on the bed. Cracking an eye open, he took in the nervous faces, and grumbled at being on display. A smile lit the bright blue eyes of the Headmaster, and Remus patted his shoulder.

“Alright, Harry, go ahead and start.”

Taking a deep breath, and closing his eyes, Harry carefully sunk into himself. He rechecked the walls in his mind, sliding easily along the pathway one last time, before tuning out the outside world. Reaching inward, he drew into his magical core, warming himself in the golden ball of raw magic, and he gathered it . Gently at first and gaining strength as he pushed the golden strands upward, following the nerve synapses up through his body to his brain. Pushing the pure energy through the sealed corridors of his mind, the smooth walls took on a golden glow as he went, searching for the point to push out.

The green glowing lightening bolt shape in the front of his brain loomed large, and Harry directed his magic slowly toward it. As he slowly approached the area, he could see the interwoven areas of red and green, and where they anchored themselves to his skull. In the midst of these strands, pulsed the angry red-black strand, thicker than the other filaments of magic that tethered the dark magic to him. Sliding around slowly, he gathered a ball of gold to him and gently enveloped in.

The reaction was instantaneous, as Harry could feel waves of agony pound against the golden energy. Concentrating totally on his magic, Harry ignored the pain, and the effect it was having on his body. He focused everything he had on the golden ball of pure magic, working on eating through the strand, slowly dissolving it. Angry red energy slammed into the gold ball, and Harry struggled to maintain his concentration. He knew that Voldemort could feel him working on severing part of their link, and was very angry. He also knew that he had to finish what he had started, or his mind would be left totally vulnerable to the evil wizard. With purpose, he kept steady pressure on the golden force, a vague part of him registering the convulsions that seemed to rock the rest of his body.

Little by little, he watched the thick, ugly strand disappear, and he knew that he had been right on target about which strand to isolate. Forged by hatred and a killing curse, the strand had grown thick and strong over the years, being the first part of Harry that had felt Voldemort growing stronger back in his fourth year. Battered, the golden magic was being bombarded by the waves of evil red energy, but he was almost there. Harry could feel himself weakening, his concentration never wavering from his task. Drawing on the reserve of energy at his core, he tried to reinforce the golden ball, but the pain was beginning to color it, turning the outer edge a dull yellow.

Reaching out for more, Harry was eased and reassured by a presence at the periphery of his consciousness. Warmth and strength flowed through him with an incredible feeling of love, strengthening his magic. The golden ball once again glowed iridescent, finally devouring the last of the red-black strand. The fury of the red force was incredible, but Harry had gained the strength to push it completely out of his mind, and suddenly feeling shaky, he slowly pulled himself back. Moving his way slowly back to the core of magic at the heart of him, Harry was surprised to see it glowing bright and strong.

Pulling out, awareness flooded back to him, and the pain slammed in to him like a wall of water. Every part of him pulsed and quivered with agony, and Harry had to force his eyes open. As he did, he became aware of many people bunched around him, the Headmaster’s hands splayed across his forehead, Remus gripping his left hand tightly, and Severus Snape, who had one hand covering the Phoenix pendant, and with other hand held tight to Ginny. As Harry moved his eyes, the only part of him that seemed to be capable of independent movement, he saw that Madame Pomfrey, Ron, and Hermione, were also holding hands, all linked together to where Remus gripped him. No explanation was necessary, and Harry knew that the extra strength that had helped him, had been the love of those gathered around him.

“Thank you,” his voice broke, as he tried to summon a smile.

Hands were dropped, and Poppy Pomfrey shooed everyone to arms length as she checked him over carefully. Allowing Remus to help him, Harry drank greedily from a goblet of water, and slowly sat up. The Potions Master handed him a vial of his potion, followed by a vial of Pepper-Up Potion. The tremors that had run through eased, and the pain abated, as Harry rubbed his hands over his face.

“How do you feel, my boy?”

“Tired, sore, and very very happy, sir,” Harry said softly, “but with all of your help, I think we did it.”

Remus laid a shaky hand on his arm; “I have to admit that I was really scared, Harry, when you started convulsing.”

“How long did it take me?”

“It has been almost four hours since you began your efforts, Mister Potter,” Professor Snape supplied.

That took Harry by surprise; “No wonder I was getting so tired! I was almost done when Voldemort got really angry and he would have succeeded if you all hadn’t found a way to help me. Thank you.”

Albus Dumbledore laid a hand on the top of his head; “Do you think you accomplished what you needed too?”

“I think so, Professor,” Harry managed a smile this time, as he reached a hand toward Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. “And I truly believe that you are right about love being the most powerful magic, because Voldemort didn’t stay a chance when he felt it flood through me!”

As April slid into May, Harry and his friends were kept busy with schoolwork, advanced Transfiguration, and DA training. Working on the side in his special training sessions with Remus, Snape, and the Headmaster, usually left Harry physically exhausted, and he’d fall to sleep as soon as he cleared his mind. He was still plagued by nightmares, his scar continued to prickle and itch, but he had not suffered a debilitating vision since the day he had severed the black-red strand of magic in his mind.

With Professor Snape’s continued tolerance of the Gryffindors, and the absence of the primary Slytherin saboteurs, Harry found he was actually doing well in potions. The healing potions that the sixth years were brewing had overall turned out so well, that the Potions Master had sent them up to Madame Pomfrey for the hospital wing. While Snape was never one to openly praise in potions class, he had told Harry during their special training how pleased he was with his work in potions. Harry was surprised at the warm glow he felt at the simple words, and embarrassed, had mumbled his thanks, much to Remus’ amusement.

The ability to focus his magic in a controlled manner had improved since severing the strand. Professors’ Dumbledore and Snape seemed to think that the link with Voldemort had more of an effect than just the pain, and there was even the possibility it had been holding back a portion of Harry’s magical abilities. In the past few weeks of training, Harry had been able to control his magic amazingly well, and only needed to fine-tune his focus. Likewise, his ability to perform wandless magic seemed to be so natural, that he could do it almost without thought or effort, the power behind it immense.

“Potter! What did you just do?” Severus Snape bit out tersely as Harry looked up at him in puzzlement.

“What?” The Gryffindor looked around, and it wasn’t until he saw the pillow and blanket lying on a couch that had suddenly appeared near the door to the Room of Requirement, that it dawned on him that he’d just conjured that with a wave of his hand.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I was just thinking how tired Remus looked tonight, with the full moon just two nights ago, and, well, it just sort of happened,” Harry had the grace to look sheepish.

He could see his guardian trying to stifle his laughter, as the Potions Master snorted at Harry. Remus walked over, resting his hands on Harry’s shoulders, his thumbs digging into the knots in the muscles of his shoulder, and Harry let his head drop forward, moaning as he felt the massaging fingers loosen the tightness. Taking a few minutes to work the worst of the knots out with steady pressure, Remus discussed with Snape which direction to go in order to help Harry with his focus. Listening with his eyes closed as his trainers tried to figure out which direction would be best for him to go with the wandless magic, Harry wondered again for the millionth time how he was going to defeat Voldemort. What was this power that the Prophecy had spoken of?

“Is any of this going to help me defeat the bas…Dark Lord?” Harry asked softly. “I am learning all kinds of shields and curses, including Dark ones and Unforgivables, how to use all this magic at my disposal, but I need to know what exactly to use against him that will make him really dead, instead of just temporarily dead.”

Remus’ hands ceased their movement at his words, and he moved to stand beside Harry, an arm over his shoulder. Harry looked up, meeting the dark fathomless depths of the Head of Slytherin.

“You know better than any of us, Professor, what he has done to ensure his immortality. That night in the graveyard after the third task, when he came back, he told all the Death Eaters that he had done things to himself to keep from dying. Did he use charms or spells or some ancient potion or ritual, and if he did, how do I conquer that? Does his return mean that he is immune to the killing curse, and if he is, what am I going to use? Professor Dumbledore said it was some kind of ancient dark magic that he used, what about that?”

The Potions Master looked at him, his dark eyes narrowing in concentration.

“Possibly some type of ancient magic might be the key, Harry, but we would have to do some research into what the Dark Lord may have utilized and what might reverse it. I believe the key will be killing his soul, in order to truly kill him. Perhaps Miss Granger could assist me with some of the research.”

Harry smiled, “I’m sure she would be delighted to help, Professor, if you asked her.”

“Yes, a spell or potion that specifically eradicates the soul so there is no possibility of regeneration after he is dead.”

Leaving Snape deep in thought, Harry banished the couch with wave of his hand. Closing his eyes, he drew inward, dropping into his magical core and pulling a golden strand from the ball of pulsing energy. Pushing outward slowly, his eyes opening as the magic left his fingertips, he enclosed the tall form of the older wizard in a shield of golden light, and changing the curve of his fingers, Harry likewise shielded himself and Remus. Concentrating, he watched curiously as the Slytherin, still muttering to himself, paced the length of the Room of Requirement, the golden shield shimmering around him like a second skin.

“Maybe if you could make it glow green, Harry, he’d notice,” Remus said with a chuckle, as he stood beside him.

The tall, dark haired man suddenly whirled around and Harry saw a purple spell flash toward them, striking the shield squarely over his guardian’s chest, sending red sparks flying.

“Much too Gryffindor, Potter,” the Potions Master sneered, but looked pleased at the strength of the shield.

“Nice, Harry, a good strong shield that doesn’t block your ability to cast a spell is an asset,” Remus complimented him, “good job. Now, have you finished your Charms essay?”

Harry groaned, but dropped the shields and allowed his attention to be diverted. Remus was determined that he keep up his studies, not expecting top marks, but Harry knew that he needed to stay on an even keel. Of all the benefits Harry had reaped from the care of his new guardian, the knowledge that he had someone to whom he was the most important thing in the world, had gone a long way to reassure him. Although Remus was not afraid to let him know when he had disappointed or upset the last of the Marauders, he was also quick to praise and embrace him, just like a real parent would. The guilt Harry felt at what he still perceived as his fault in Sirius’ death was still tucked into the back of his mind, but it was no longer the gaping wound that threatened to overwhelm him, and Harry was thankful for both his godfathers’ wisdom in helping him come to terms with his feelings.

In the several weeks since he had broken the strand, Harry had waited anxiously for something to happen, but other than his scar prickling and itching oddly at time and normal headaches, he had not experienced anything like the debilitating pain of before. He still suffered through nightmares, but there had been no painful visions. Sleeping better than he could ever remember, Harry felt good, and had finally been able to gain some much-needed weight. The Prophecy still weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he tried to keep is tucked into the dark reaches of his mind, except for the nightmares that came in the dark of night.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron sat with him at the table in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, homework spread around them in a pile. Trying to review for her up-coming OWL exams, the youngest Weasley had tuned the other three out; her only connection was the hand that tightly gripped his. Harry smiled, and wigged his fingers every once in a while, both to restore the circulation and let Ginny know he was still there. Ron and Hermione where debating the possibility of them becoming Animagi over the summer if they worked at it hard, and Harry was finishing up his Charms essay.

Professor McGonagall had told the advanced Transfiguration class that the highest scoring students were going to get a chance to try a special potion which would show them their Animagus form, or if they had the capability of transforming. The class had already learned through their studies that an average of one in seven witches and wizards were able to become Animagi, with inherent magical power not being a deciding factor. Like other human traits, it seemed that there were those who could inherit a predisposition to be able to transform. Harry held high hopes for his ability, thinking of his dad, but wondered what animal he might become. Somehow, although he resembled his father, he did not think that he would be a stag, feeling that his mother’s influence and great love would have bearing on what form he took.

Friday night finally arrived the first week in May, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he could sleep in the next morning. The four teens were planning a picnic in the courtyard of the castle, a celebration of the sunny skies and warm breezes that spring had brought. It was amazing to him, that the term had gone by so fast, and it was so close to the end of the school year. As he slid down in to the blankets and pulled the hangings closed on his four-poster, Harry could not help but feel a twinge of apprehension. As the end of the term loomed closer, he could not help but wonder if Voldemort had the usual ‘get Potter’ plans for June. As he succumbed to sleep, he wondered idly at what new terror the snake-faced monster would come up with this time.

The night surrounded him as he strolled toward the flames of a burning cottage, the sounds of reverie exploding around him as his Death Eaters tortured the muggle family. The mother tried to protect a young boy, a wizard born to the couple in their older years, and the pride of their humble existence. The father convulsed under the Cruciatus, as his widowed sister was raped by a circle of his minions, and he watched with glee. A black robed figure, small in stature, approached him hesitantly, and he turned his blood red eyes on him, the firelight glinting off the man’s silver hand.

“Master,” Pettigrew bowed deeply, “I bring news from Hogwarts.”

“Speak, Wormtail, and hope that I am pleased with your news.”

The short paunchy man trembled; “The underground passage from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow has been warded and sealed, Master, but there is another passage, long thought to be impassible, that is open to us. It passes under the protective shields, and leads directly into the dungeons.”

“Well done, Wormtail, you may return to the school and keep watching the Potter brat. I want to know everything that he is doing.”

“Yes, my Lord, immediately.”

The scarlet eyes took in the simpering vermin, and Harry sneered down at the bowed head. He brought his long black wand up, and laughed maniacally.

“Oh, and Wormtail? Crucio!”

Someone was screaming, and Harry could feel the tension in his body, as if all his muscles were trying to contract at once. His head throbbed at the temples, and he could feel a hand rest on his head, fingers gently carding through the wild hair in a comforting gesture. There was an ache in his chest, as he became aware of his surroundings, and Harry struggled to sit up, the lights suddenly brightening. Cool fingers rested on his forehead, as a goblet of water was pressed into his hand, and he sipped at it cautiously. The vision still affected him, but had not incapacitated him as in the past.

“Harry?” Albus Dumbledore’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts, handing him his glasses.

“I’m okay, sir, just a little shaky,” Harry told him, meeting the bright blue eyes, before handing the goblet back to Ron sitting beside him, his red hair sticking up in all directions.

Remus materialized at his elbow, a dressing gown thrown over his pajamas. Harry made an attempt to smile reassuringly, but the memory of the vision burned in his mind. Taking a deep breath, he quietly thanked Ron for being there for him, once again, and slid off the bed. Reading the set look on his face, his guardian handed Harry his threadbare dressing gown and stood back, as the young wizard led the way out of the dorm after grabbing his wand.

The three of them made their way to the Headmaster’s office, meeting the Potions Master, fully dressed in his usual black robes, at the gargoyle and stepping on to the revolving stairs together. Harry grumbled, wondering if it had been wise to have established some kind of link with these three wizards, as they always seemed know when something happened with him. They seated themselves in the chairs facing the large desk, as Professor Dumbledore retrieved his Pensieve from the black cabinet behind the desk. Fawkes thrilled softly, and Harry had to smile, the usually magnificent phoenix looked terrible, and he knew it must be close to a burning day for the magical bird.

Using his wand, Harry stood and retrieved the memory, dropping the shimmering strand into the silvery surface of the rune decorated basin. He prodded the liquid with the tip of his wand, and watched as the scene unfolded, his hand absently rubbing at his scar. The three adults watched as the vision unfolded in front of them, their interest peaking at the Animagus’ words about the passage into the castle. As the memory came to an end, Harry retrieved the strand, carefully replacing it back at his temple.

“Severus, do you know of the passage Pettigrew spoke of?” The Headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully, his forehead creased in thought.

The dark haired man sat with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the now silent Pensieve.

“Yes, I believe it is the same one indicated on the Marauders map as being impassable, with the entrance near the statue of the snake, at the opposite end of the passageway from the Slytherin dorms.”

“Is there a way to put up a shield or ward that would keep out Animagi forms, Professor?” Harry asked, the thought of Wormtail roaming free in the castle bothersome to him.

Dumbledore glanced at him over the top of his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes shrewd; “I think we should see about putting up something that would warn us when Mister Pettigrew entered the passageway, so that we could greet him as he exits. It is possible that Professor Flitwick might have a charm that would assist us.”

“Like a burglar alarm,” Harry exclaimed, and the Headmaster nodded as the other two men appeared puzzled, “sorry, it’s a muggle device that warns if someone is attempting to break into your house.”

“I just don’t understand what Voldemort is up to, Professor,” Remus said, “is he hoping to send Death Eaters into the castle for an attack?”

“I am not sure, Remus, but it is not like him to think on a small scale, and he should be aware that we would be warned as soon as they entered the dungeon hallways.”

Snape sat silently, one pale finger tracing the line of his bottom lip, obviously deep in thought as Harry watched him. Of anyone, the Slytherin knew the dungeon best, and should know if there was a hidden advantage to using that way of getting into the school. The thought suddenly struck him, as it dawned on Harry that he was not the only target of the evil wizard.

“Professor Snape, if Wormtail or anyone was able to get into the dungeons, how easy would it be for them to find your chambers?”

The Headmaster threw a knowing look at the Potions Master, who shook his head back and forth.

“If the Dark Lord were after me, Pettigrew could have just slipped into my rooms and shoved a portkey into my hand as I slept. I so not believe that I am his target or at least, not his primary target. He may still be attempting to discover an alternate source to information about the Prophecy.”

“Well, I for one am a bit perturbed that the rat seems to be able to slip into Hogwarts whenever he chooses, and want to make sure Harry remembers to be cautious,” his guardian said, throwing Harry a stern look, “constant vigilance, as Mad-Eye would say.”

“I am sure that Mister Potter is thoroughly aware of the gravity of the situation,” Severus Snape almost smiled as Harry looked up at him. “How does your head feel, Harry?”

“I have a bit of a dull headache, Professor, and could feel it when Voldemort used the Cruciatus, but there was no pain and no nausea when it was over,” Harry told him, smiling back.

“Well done, Harry.”

The Headmaster nodded in agreement; “I believe your experiment was an immense success, my boy, but now, I think you need to get back to bed, Harry. I do believe you have important plans for tomorrow, and I would not like to be on the receiving end of Miss Weasley’s displeasure if you are too tired to picnic. She is much like her formidable mother when angered.”

The emerald eyes met the twinkling blue and Harry grinned, nodding his head in complete agreement. Remus escorted him back to the Gryffindor common room, and he had no trouble falling asleep immediately as he crawled back into bed.

The day dawned bright and warm, and with Dobby’s help, the picnic was a complete success, and for an afternoon, Harry was able to forget that he was anything other than a normal sixteen year old teenager.A small patch of lawn appeared in the corner of the courtyard, as did a large tree. Ginny sat with her back to it, and Harry laid with his head in her lap, talking about nothing of importance, and just enjoying the company. Ron and Hermione sat at the opposite end of the blanket, sneaking kisses between bites of fruit. Harry teased them until Ginny leaned down and showed him a better way to occupy his lips.

The weekend past quickly, and before he knew it, Monday morning arrived, bringing them back to the grind of lessons, practices, and homework. Professor Snape meet with Hermione Monday afternoon, outlining what they had discussed in training, and asked for her help in researching ancient tombs for anything that might help Harry. She had readily agreed, and had even recruited Ron and Harry to assist in going through dusty old books during any spare moment they could find. So trips to the library became a new routine, between all of the rest of his activities

The next Friday afternoon, after double potions, Harry and Hermione were headed towards the library to return the books they had finished, when the witch remembered the book Snape had been looking through. Turning them around, much to Harry’s dismay, they headed back down to the dungeons. Grumbling under his breath, the young wizard was thinking more about what the menu for dinner would be than watching where they were going. Snape’s private offices were down the hallway, past the main potions classroom, and adjacent to the man’s private lab. Harry had a vague idea that the Potions Master’s private rooms were further down the dark, chilly hallway, but saw nothing inviting as he peered in that direction.

As Hermione raised her hand to knock on the office door, a noise from a dark niche of the hallway caught his attention, and Harry turned toward it. In the periphery of his vision, he caught sight of a flash of spell light enveloping Hermione, and as his head swung around, something very hard connected with his right temple. The blow knocked him to the side, and as darkness overcame him, his last thought was that it was too early for this to be Voldemort’s idea.

A dull pounding in his head woke him, but he knew something was terribly wrong. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even as Snape had taught him to, Harry concentrated on his senses. It was a cold, dank place that smelled of blood and decay; he lay on a stone floor, and was magically bonded. At least three people were close by, their breathing was a harsh, impatient sounding, but to his left, he heard a slight whimper. In a flash, he remembered his last conscious thoughts, and the scene outside the Potions Master’s office, in the dungeons.

Hermione! Harry thought, the panic welling up in him, and it took everything he had to wrestle it down. Bloody hell, Pettigrew needed the passage to get them out of the castle, not to sneak anyone in! Cursing silently, he concentrated on ending the spell that held him, drawing on his magic and pushing it out the medallion. He felt the bond disappear, but was careful not to move, as he heard one of their captures shift position.

“Potter’s still unconscious; we must wake him as our Master will not be happy.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but the cackling laugh that came afterwards made the hair stand up on the back of his neck: Bellatrix Lestrange!

“Maybe we should play with his little mudblood girlfriend a bit more while we wait, eh? Her screams should help wake him up. Crucio!”

Hermione’s screams ripped the air, and the breath from his lungs. Closing his mind, Harry quickly reinforced the walls and shielded his thoughts. Concentrating, he was able to open his eyes as slits. Three black robed and white masked Death Eaters stood in front of them, their focus on the form to his left. He noted the dark chamber; a single torch flickered on the far wall, and knew they were back in Voldemort’s dungeon chamber. With a wave of his hand, Harry sent Bellatrix flying back. She slammed into a far wall, and the force knocked the other two off their feet.

Scrambling stiffly to his feet, Harry crouched beside his unconscious best friend. He could see that her face was bloodied and bruised her robes torn and dirty. Relieved to her breathing steadily, he quickly cast the simple healing spells they had studied on the witch. He had no idea how long they’d been there, or how long Hermione had endured the torture and beating, but it was done. Pushing back the hair from her face, Harry passed his hand over her; a golden strand of magic flowed from his fingers and enveloped her in a golden shield.

“Little bity baby Potter is awake, uh,” Bellatrix snarled in a mock baby voice, wand in hand as she lurched to her feet, “Crucio!”

Harry gritted his teeth as every nerve ending in his body exploded in pain. Biting his cheek to keep from screaming, he fought against the curse. The golden aura around Hermione flickered as he struggled against the agony to concentrate, his body bowing under the curse. From a detached corner of his mind, Harry ignored the pain and drew on his magical core, with strength of love for his friend; Harry pushed the curse back toward the deranged witch. Visualizing the dark magic, he pushed it back into her wand, which started vibrating wildly and exploded in her hand.

The dark haired witch screamed as the two other black robed figures who had just joined her, fell back, realizing that something was wrong. Throwing up a golden shield around himself, Harry pulled his wand from its holster up his left sleeve, and brought it to bear.

“Expelliamus!”

Two wands flew into his hand as the figures flew backwards, and without a second thought, Harry grabbed them and snapped them in two, throwing them into the darkness. Cold rage arose in him as Harry moved quickly, stunning and binding the three Death Eaters, when all he wanted to do was make them suffer. Taking a deep breath, he pressed a finger to the watch on his wrist, and he knelt down beside Hermione. His eyes continued to scan the dark chamber as he laid his hand on the young witch’s sternum, relieved to feel it slowly rise and fall.

“Well, well, Potter,” a high cold voice sounded behind him, and Harry spun around in a crouch, “you have learned a few new tricksss sssince we last met, no doubt from that traitorousss sssscum Sssnape.”

“And you seem to be an obsessed bastard, Riddle, to keep chasing a poor school boy!” Harry snarled back, his heart pounding as he struggled to fight down his panic. “Shouldn’t you be out raping and torturing poor, helpless muggle children?”

Harry took in the advancing wall of Death Eaters that flanked the tall skeletal figure dressed in black. The blood-red eyes flared in the flat, snake-like face, and he could feel the dark magic radiating off the creature. He stood slowly, facing his nemesis squarely.

“Harry Potter isss growing up, I see,” the cold voice laughed harshly, “but he is ssstill as ssstupid and foolhardy asss ever. Where isss that muggle loving old fool who manipulates you ssso well, Harry? Where is he when you need him?”

Backing away from Hermione’s prone form, Harry moved into a patch of light to draw all the attention back to him.

“Dumbledore? Why would he be here, Tom, when the Prophecy clearly says…” he paused dramatically, “oh, that’s right, you don’t know the rest of what it says, do you?”

With an enraged bellow, Voldemort flicked his long, dark wand at Harry, and screamed a curse. Harry spun away from the purple spell, laughing.

“Expelliamus!”

Harry shot back, but the evil wizard conjured a shimmering silver shield and blocked it easily. Dodging to his right, Harry threw a stunning curse and then a blasting curse in rapid succession trying to keep Voldemort busy. The Death Eaters were joining in now, as he dodged several hexes before one hit the golden field around him causing it to flare, but hold. Harry’s head ached terribly as he continued to move back and forth, to duck hexes and curses.

Concentrating on throwing powerful curses at Voldemort, Harry could feel some of the multiple spells hitting him seep through his weakening defenses. Glancing over, he made sure that the shield was still protecting Hermione, and conjured a golden circle to use as a shield, which he used to deflect the worst of what was thrown at him. The noise reverberated around the stone chamber, and he barely heard the evil wizard taunting him.

“Where isss your Headmassster, Potter? Isss he ssso afraid to come ressscue you? Are you not the Gryffindor Golden Boy?” Voldemort hissed.

Albus Dumbledore isn’t afraid of you, Riddle!” Harry spat at him, winded. “He is the most powerful wizard in the world!”

Throwing two powerful stunners at the snake-faced wizard, Harry dodged until he was back, standing over Hermione’s prone figure. Voldemort blocked the first, but the second one got through, and rocked him back. Harry fired another as Voldemort spun and disappeared. Dropping into a crouch, he fired a wide beam stunner at the Death Eaters attempting to encircle him. Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard a hiss behind him and dove to the left, dodging a bright red spell.

“You are dead, boy! And you will die a ssslow, painful death, just like all your little friendsss will, Potter! Each and every one of them will die horribly, one by one, and it will be all becaussse of you!”

A commotion behind the Death Eaters distracted Harry from making the heated retort on his tongue. His shield was weakening under the onslaught of multiple curses. Palming his wand, he pulled a strand of magic directly from his core, and pushed it through the medallion with all his might.

“Expelliamus!”

Wands went flying, disarming six of the eight Death Eaters, just as Dumbledore and members of the Order hit the group from behind.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Voldemort screamed as he disappeared, and Harry saw it was directed at Hermione. Drawing on his magic to shield them both, Harry dove and covered his friend with his body. He felt the burn of the curse hitting him, shattering his shield, before dropping into oblivion.

“Harry!”

Some one was calling to him, pulling him from the pain filled darkness. Struggling towards the voice, he opened blurry eyes to find his arms locked around Hermione, both lying face down on the cold stone floor. Remus bent over him, a hand squeezing his arm. A second dark figure bent down at his side.

“Potter, let go! Granger needs treatment.”

Harry relaxed his grip, and rolled clumsily toward the two men. His guardian bent down and scooped the young witch into his arms, as Severus Snape tugged Harry gently to his feet, supporting him as his knees buckled. The sound of a muted battle still raged around them, as Albus Dumbledore’s face swam into view, and Harry felt his hand pressed to something solid. A familiar tug behind his navel told Harry he was going home.

Bright daylight blinded him the next time he became aware of his surroundings enough to open his eyes. Groaning, he quickly shut them again, as a gentle hand brushed along his forehead.

“Harry?”

The warm, reassuring voice pulled at him, and Harry squinted up at the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“Herm…” his throat was dry and raspy.

“Miss Granger is in the next bed, and will be fine, Harry, thanks to your quick thinking. How do you feel?”

Harry tried to move, and stopped as pain shot through him. “Like I was trampled by a herd of hippogriffs, sir.”

A hand cupped the back of his neck, as the Headmaster put a goblet of water to his lips, and Harry drank thirstily. As he was eased back down, his glasses appeared in front of him from the other side of his bed, and slipping them on, he smiled his thanks as he turned his head to see Professor Snape. He looked back at the older wizard.

“Sir, is Remus okay?”

Dumbledore smiled down at him, a warm hand rested on his shoulder. “Yes, Harry, he is sleeping. I sent him to bed a little while ago; I don’t think he has rested at all since you first disappeared two days ago. He will return shortly, I am sure.”

“What happened, sir?” Harry asked quietly.

The Headmaster took off his spectacles and calmly cleaned them with an edge of his brightly colored scarlet robe; a row of phoenixes flew around the bottom of the sleeves. Harry had to smile as he watched the flamboyant display.

“It seems that you were correct, Harry, and Peter Pettigrew was gaining access to the castle in his Animagus form. We have found a number of items in the dungeons that are suspicious in nature, and put there in the hopes that Professor Snape would pick them up. It seems that a certain Ravenclaw seventh year was also involved, and assisted Pettigrew in attacking you and Miss Granger when you showed up unexpectedly. While we knew you were missing, we had not configured the new protective spells to alert us to when anyone was leaving the castle, just when they entered it. It would appear that Pettigrew had been inside the castle for at least a few days, since the wards were reconfigured last Wednesday night.”

He slid the half-moon spectacles back up on his crooked nose, looking over them at Harry.

“We were trying to locate you, when you signaled with the watch and I was able to Apparate to the chamber. Once I had dismantled the wards, the Order was able to join me and we moved into the chamber to find you. It would seem that you were able to hold Lord Voldemort off and protect Miss Granger from serious injury at the same time.”

The blue eyes twinkled at him merrily; “Well done, my boy, you escaped his clutches again, held your own in a battle with him, and infuriated him all in one shot.”

Harry nodded. He was sore and weary and just wanted to go back to sleep, although something bothered him in the back of his mind.

“How did you find out about Wormtail and the Ravenclaw, sir?”

The bright blue eyes had a dangerous light in them. “Because he was thick enough to come right back to Hogwarts, Harry, and Professor McGonagall was delighted to track him down and catch him. I am afraid that Kingsley Shacklebolt was a bit, ah, over-exuberant in his capture and is personally interrogating him under Veritaserum at the Ministry as we speak.”

“We will be able to clear Sirius’ name?” Harry asked cautiously, his eyes swiveling back and forth between his professors.

“Yes, my boy,” Dumbledore smiled at him, “Madame Bones is already working on that.”

Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to bustle into the curtain enclosed area around him and Hermione’s beds, and began her usual poking and prodding. From what little of her conversation with the two older men he understood, Hermione was going to be fine, the physical abuse had extended only to having been roughly treated, and the hexes had already been reversed. His own condition was about the same, having blocked or fought off the majority of the curses and hexes, it was the drain on his magic that had him feeling so exhausted. Reassured by the brusque manner of the medi-witch, he let himself slip back into sleep in the middle of being lectured on the intelligence of fighting off multiple Death Eaters and Dark Lords.

Both he and Hermione were released from the hospital wing the next day just before lunch, and were happy to spend the afternoon resting in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny and Ron had not left their sides since their release, having been excused from their afternoon class, and the four had spent several pleasant hours just enjoying each others company. By mutual agreement, they had not spoken of what had happened, and Ron seemed determined to protect the bushy haired witch from any unpleasantness. They made their way down to dinner, the Great Hall seemingly subdued by the recent events, came alive with cheers and noise when they walked in.

Returning to classes the next day, Harry diligently studied the coursework presented to him, and the days fell back into a more regular pattern. His extra defense classes refocused on protective shield and charms, as Professor Snape and Hermione continued to wade through ancient text books for a spell that would separate what constituted a soul for Voldemort from his corporeal body, so that he could never again resurrect himself. The Headmaster taught Harry how to create a shield like the silver one Voldemort had conjured, one that was infinitely stronger then the small one Harry had managed to produce during the fight with the Death Eaters.

Professor Snape had moved beyond Occlumency and had started teaching Harry the basic magical theory behind Legilimency. Harry wasn’t sure he like the idea of reading anyone else’s mind, but understood the benefits of being able to tell whether the person he was talking to was lying to him. The Potions Master was surprised by his rapid progress in the training, and somewhat taken back by the amount of power Harry was capable of. It disturbed Harry to think he had the ability to rip into someone’s unwilling mind, and asked the older wizard to help him refine his control.

Things seemed eerily normal at Hogwarts as they moved into June and the term drew to a close. Sirius’ name was quietly cleared, with a small article on the third page of a morning Daily Prophet being the only acknowledgement. Ginny studied hard for her OWLs, and Harry kept her company well into the night studying the last weekend before the exams started. Voldemort on the other hand, had resumed his deadly activities of attacking small wizarding villages and targeting muggleborns and mixed blood families. The entire school began to dread the arrival of owl post each morning when news would arrive of someone’s family or suffering a loss due to the rampaging.

The sixth and seventh year students of the advanced Transfigurations class took the Animagus Potion, and were astounded as they were able to envision themselves in their animal forms. Hermione was a sleek tabby cat, and Ron a large red fox, but Harry was in turn astounded and delighted to find himself powerful panther, lean, black with green eyes and a tuff of white hair in the form of a lightening bolt above his right eye. There were only two in the class that did not see an animal form, and Professor McGonagall cautioned them, reminding those who had seen their form that only about half would be successful in learning the complex transformation. With only a couple weeks of the term left, the older woman gave them the name of a textbook that the sixth years could study during the summer, and urged the seventh years to look into furthering their knowledge on their own.

Harry was very apprehensive about the coming school holidays, and had several conversations with Remus Lupin over where he would spend it. He had an uneasy feeling about returning to Privet Drive, no matter how short a period of time. The Headmaster was adamant about it however, telling Harry that he needed the protection of his mother’s blood, but promised him that he would not be there long. At the crestfallen look on his face, even Professor Snape had patted him on the shoulder in sympathy.

The train ride to Kings Cross Station was very tense for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, for whom the attack on the Hogwarts Express in January was very fresh in their minds. Scanning the skies for black clouds of Dementors, they kept their wands in hand. Remus Lupin, along with Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Moody rode the train with them, patrolling the corridors, keeping an eye on students as well as the passing countryside. It was rather anticlimactic that the journey passed without incident, the bright blue skies cloudless and Dementorless.

Sliding into the peaceful station, the students unloaded in their usually noisy fashion, chattering excitedly. Harry gathered his truck and Hedwig’s cage, the feeling of dread welling up in him. As he stepped on to the platform, he saw that he was flanked not only by his friends, but his guardian and all the professors who rode the train. Mister and Missus Weasley hurried over to greet the teenagers. Harry leaned into her hug, letting it go on for a long moment, before turning to press a hard kiss on Ginny’s lips, as he gripped her hand tightly. After hugging Hermione and Ron, he turned around to see the large form of his uncle waiting impatiently near the curb.

“We’ll write you, mate, and let you know what’s happening, alright?” Ron said anxiously as he eyed the red-faced muggle.

“Yes, and I’ll see you really soon, okay?” Harry told them with a smile plastered on his face.

“Really soon, Harry,” Hermione’s soft brown eyes were bright.

Ginny threw her arms around him and kissed him again, before stepping back, tears sliding silently down her face. Harry squared his shoulders and bent to pick-up his trunk. As he stood, a hand took Hedwig’s cage from him and another took the handle of his trunk. Turning his head, he saw that his guardian stood on one side of him, and Professor Snape on his other, wearing his best Death Eater scowl. With a smile, Harry walked towards Uncle Vernon, who took a step back as they approached.

“Dursley,” the Potions Master snarled as he pushed the snowy white owl and her cage into his arms, “You will practice, Harry, and we will see you presently.”

“Harry,” Remus smiled down at him, and gave him a hug before handing him the trunk handle, “take care of yourself and you will be with us in next to no time.”

“Yes, sir, I will. Good bye Professor, good bye Remus, be careful at the full moon.”

“Full moon?” Vernon Dursley asked, piggy eyes darting between the two.

“Remus is a werewolf, Uncle Vernon,” Harry told him in a stage whisper, as the purple face turned a pale gray.

Harry walked away with a grin, warmth momentarily alleviating the cold feeling of dread, and followed his dazed uncle towards the car park.