Lying still in bed, his brow furrowed in what could only be pain, Harry suddenly began to toss fitfully from side to side. A moment later, he was pulled from his sleep as the pain in his head became too much. Sitting up with a gasp, he looked around the room erratically, feeling chilled from the inside.

“Ron?” he whispered. He wasn’t loud enough and his best friend was unable to hear him. As the throbbing intensified, Harry knew he was going to be sick. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it to the bathroom in time, he leaned over the side of the bed and vomited, feeling mortified.

When he felt a hand on his back, Harry felt even more humiliated. Please, be Ron. He didn’t want his other dorm mates to see him in such a state.

“Harry?” It was Ron, thankfully. “Blimey, you’ve been sick! I thought I heard a noise,” he said distractedly as he helped Harry to sit up on his bed. “Hang on, I’ll get a wet washcloth from the bathroom.”

Harry nodded and flinched at the movement. His head still ached unbearably. He hadn’t felt this terrible since right after he’d been grounded. Remus had taken him to his father after class and he’d been struck down by a violent headache…and a vision. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry knew exactly what was wrong with him.

Ron walked back into the dormitory. “Ron!” gasped Harry as the pain became overwhelming once more. “I think I’m getting a vision.”

Ron looked confused. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep for those?” he asked, making Harry groan.

“Not anymore, apparently. Just listen to me…” he trailed off. A sudden spell of dizziness made him feel like he would fall off the bed, it didn’t matter that he was already lying down. Instinctively, he knew his fever had risen and he moaned. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this miserable. This surpassed his last vision by a landslide.

“Harry?” asked Ron, concerned and frightened. “Do you need me to get your dad?”

Harry nodded, unable to do anything else. Before Ron even made it to the door he was stopped in his tracks by an ear-piercing scream. Harry was thrashing on his bed and clawing at his scar.

“Oh, no.” Ron rushed back to Harry’s side, shaking his shoulders. “Harry? Please open your eyes!”

“Ron, what the hell is wrong with him?” asked Seamus. The boy was sitting up in his bed with a look of shock on his face. “Is he okay?”

It took Ron a minute to realize that the rest of his dorm mates were up and moving towards them. Finally, he found his voice and told them, “He’s having a vision, I think.”

No sooner had he spoken the words than Harry stopped moving on the bed, gasping in great breaths of air. He rolled onto his side and curled into a protective ball.

Ron slowly approached the bed and started rubbing his back soothingly. “Are you okay?”

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t even had the vision yet, and he knew the next headache would be ten times as bad.

“Please, go get my dad,” he whispered tiredly. His head felt like it was splitting open from his scar.

Neville headed towards the door immediately. “I’ll get him, Harry,” he said, sounding a bit terrified. Harry knew Neville was still intimidated by his father, but he was willing to go and get him. He would have smiled had another bout of nausea not caused him to roll over the side of the bed to vomit once more. Ron grabbed a trashcan and shoved it under his friend. He’d already cleaned up one mess; he didn’t necessarily want to clean up another.

Harry whimpered. “Where’s my dad?” he asked. He wanted Severus so badly he could hardly stand it. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but suddenly he wanted nothing more in the world than for his dad to be here, holding him. He had never felt that way with the Dursley’s, that he could remember, at least.

“He’s coming, Harry, just hang on,” reassured Ron, still rubbing his back.

Nodding his head, his emerald eyes glazed with pain. “I wish he’d hurry up,” he moaned.

Ron couldn’t help but smile a bit; he’d never had a chance to witness his best friend act like a normal person when they were sick. Any other time Harry had been ill, he would go and hide in the dormitory or in Ron’s bedroom if they were at the Burrow. His mum hadn’t allowed that for an instant, but it had always made Ron hate Harry’s relatives more and more when he’d rush off after being sick, like he was a burden on them if he told.

“Harry, are you feeling any better, mate?” asked Ron, but before Harry got a chance to answer, his emerald eyes glazed over and he let out a piercing scream. Ron was nearly hysterical, Harry wouldn’t stop screaming, he was in so much pain!

In the next instant, Harry found himself standing on a near deserted platform. He wasn’t sure where he was, but it looked awfully familiar. Smoke was billowing and swirling past him, coming from an unknown source. There were occasional blasts of light coming from ahead of him, but with all the smoke, Harry couldn’t make out what it was. He realized they must be spells, hexes, and curses, being hurled at someone or something. Trying to press forward, he realized he was unable to move. Suddenly, like a light in the dark, it came to him. Voldemort had sent him another vision, but was it true or false?

Looking ahead, he noticed that the wind had picked up, clearing some of the smoke that was making it nearly impossible to see and breathe. As the smoke cleared, Harry saw something that caused his heart to speed up and his breath to catch in his throat. There, lying just a few feet in front of him was a body. He instinctively took a step forward, but he was still rooted to the spot. He couldn’t help. Maybe if he said something, he could get someone’s attention, like he did with Mrs. Weasley.

“Hey!” he yelled, waving his arms, trying to get anyone’s notice. It was a bit disconcerting, not knowing what lay beyond the foggy smoke. He heard a moan from somewhere up ahead, and figured it came from the body lying on the ground. “Can you hear me?” he asked.

The body moved a bit and Harry sighed in relief. They’d heard him. Maybe he could still help in this vision. As the person lying on the ground began to slowly turn over, more smoke had started to clear from the area. He could now see exactly where he was, and it startled him. If this attack were to take place, hundreds if not thousands would die. And there were bodies scattered almost everywhere Harry looked. Once more, he lost his breath as he realized what he was seeing. Most of the people lying on the floor were wearing robes, familiar robes. But there were muggles as well. But, what was most horrifying of all…it was Harry himself who lay on the ground, and the only one moving.

As soon as all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place, his scar exploded with a pain so fierce he doubled over, grasping his head in a futile effort to ease the ache.

“Harry! Harry, please wake up!” yelled a familiar voice and he followed the sound of it.

“Ron?” he asked blearily, trying desperately not to vomit and further embarrass himself in front of his friends.

“Yes, are you all right?” he asked. He felt a cool cloth placed against his still throbbing forehead and nearly sighed in relief. That felt good against the flame that seemed to be constantly burning in his scar.

“Yeah, I think so,” he mumbled, trying to sit up. He stopped, though, when the urge to vomit became nearly impossible to ignore. He felt strong arms wrap themselves around his shoulders and pull him back down to the bed. He turned and raised bleary eyes to his father. When had he gotten here?

Severus had sat down on the bed directly behind him and was holding him against his side. “Are you positive you’re all right?” he asked, and Harry nodded. “Good, you’ve had us all extremely worried.”

“I’m sorry, I never know when these are going to come about,” answered Harry, even though he knew Severus was more worried about him than the vision. And speaking of that, “I had a vision!” he gasped out as all the details came back in livid color.

“I assumed as much,” replied his father, as Ron gasped. Looking around, Harry realized that it was just the three of them. His other dorm mates were missing, but he wasn’t upset about it. In fact, he’d rather them not see him like this. “This fit looked quite a bit harsher than the last one. I’ve never seen or heard you in such pain before, and neither do I ever want to experience it again,” he said shortly. Harry now noticed just how pale his father looked, it greatly contrasted against his normal paleness, he was white.

“It felt bloody awful,” Harry informed them. “It was so much more painful than the last one, you’ve got that right. And I didn’t even see Voldemort in this vision. Normally, he’s in them. I would have thought the pain wouldn’t be nearly as bad,” It was just a theory, but what did Harry know?

“What did this vision entail?” asked Severus. Ron nodded his head, as if he had been the one to ask the question. Harry sniggered at this.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” denied Harry, sitting up more fully in bed. He wasn’t feeling nearly as queasy anymore, which was a definite improvement. Ron still looked curious, but Harry waved him off. He was trying to remember where his vision had took place, but then he remembered he hadn’t really known. He’d had an inkling, but now that he was awake, he couldn’t remember at all. Well, hopefully, it would come back to him. But, he did remember everything else. “I was on a platform, I think. It was very smoky and there were bodies lying all over the floor, everywhere I looked,” he shivered at the memory, suddenly remembering many of the bodies had been friends or very familiar. One looked so familiar, in fact, it caused his heart to skip a beat.

“Harry, are you certain you’re not having any adverse effects?” asked Severus, his voice concerned, even if he was sounding way too clinical. Then he felt of his son’s forehead, checking for a fever, presumably. “You’re still slightly warm, but not nearly as warm as before.”

Harry leaned into his father’s comforting weight, feeling more relaxed as his father wrapped his arm around him and kissed the top of his head. Snatching a look at Ron, he could just barely see a faint smile. Harry wondered about that, but his father nudged him to continue.

“I, um…where was I?” He couldn’t remember what he’d been talking about, but after a significant look from Ron, he suddenly remembered. “The bodies,” he whispered, still feeling a bit nauseous at the thought of them all. “Well, there was a particular one lying on the ground. I couldn’t move, I was stuck to the floor, which always happens in these bloody visions, so I tried to call out to them and get their attention. I figured if it worked with your mum,” he glanced at Ron, who grasped his forearm comfortingly, “it would work with this person.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry plunged into the identity of the person. “Well, the person on the floor, it was…me,” he ended, rather lamely, he thought.

“What?” asked Ron, sounding rather lame himself.

“Has this ever happened before, Harry? Seeing yourself in one of these visions?” asked Severus, looking absolutely floored. If this was true, then when this vision came to pass, would he see himself? Would he be able to save himself sometime further on in the future? It didn’t sound all that likely.

“No, never. It seems that a lot of things were different in this vision,” he added, looking back at it with a clear head.

Severus shifted to the side but didn’t let go of Harry. “I think we might have to consider this vision as being false. You said you’ve never seen yourself in a vision before. It sounds too strategic, as if planned, for my tastes. I believe it’s a set up, like the vision that led you to the Jumbling Tower, and almost to your death.”

Harry cringed, remembering quite clearly the events that took place that night and the vision preceding it. He had been led to believe that Sirius was in great danger and he’d foolishly gone after his godfather. It hadn’t ended well, and he's felt like an absolute fool when Sirius himself showed up to save him, along with his father. He’d only just gotten ungrounded three weeks ago.

The vision did sound planned, Harry had to agree with that, and it seemed too strange to be able to see himself lying on the floor. He was seriously beginning to wonder about the legitimacy of this vision. “I think you might be right,” he finally decided, turning his head to look his father directly in the eyes. “It just didn’t seem natural.”

Severus nodded, running a hand through Harry’s raven locks. “Perhaps you’re correct. Just the same, we’ll be extra cautious in the days to come, and for the duration of these visions. I only hope you haven’t anymore.”

Harry agreed with that whole-heartedly. He’d rather not have any more visions if it was all the same to them.

“Are you feeling all right now, mate?” asked Ron. Harry had been surprised his friend had stayed silent for so long. It wasn’t really something he did very often, but it pleased Harry to know his friend knew when to sit back and let him and his father talk.

Harry paused a moment to consider. His stomach still felt a mite queasy, but not nearly so much as before. He wouldn’t hurl if he moved any more. His scar still ached, but when didn’t it? His entire body felt sort of weak. He recited these facts to his father and his best friend.

“Well, it’s really no surprise, not after the way you were screaming and thrashing your bloody head off, Harry,” said Ron, referring to his tired and weak frame.

Harry groaned and Severus gave the redheaded boy a dark look.

“Yeah, well, I’ll just shut up now, won’t I?” Ron sat silently by, covertly giving Harry an apologetic look. Harry smiled.

“I’ll have a few vials of potions sent up to help ease your pain, Harry. Is there anything else you need? Perhaps lunch is in order?” he suddenly mentioned, taking both boys by surprise. What time was it anyways? Looking at his watch, Harry realized they’d missed lunch, something Ron very rarely did. It just went to show how devoted his friends were. He was honestly surprised Hermione hadn’t come barging upstairs yet, along with Fred and George. Then he realized who was in the room with him. His father had probably warded their dorm to keep others out. It was exactly the type of thing he’d do.

Harry shrugged, “I’m not much up for eating.”

Severus nodded. “I’d imagine not. Perhaps something to drink, a calming tea?” he asked. Harry thought that sounded agreeable and told his father as much. “Very well, I’ll have Dobby run them up. For now, I really must get back to teaching my classes, I’m sure my classroom has been destroyed, but perhaps it can be salvaged.” He paused on the way to the door, “You have your OWL in Potions tonight, Harry. Are you up to it?”

Harry once more assessed his condition and figured he’d go ahead and give it a go. “I think so.”

“If you’re certain?”

“I am. If I feel ill, I’ll just excuse myself,” he added, knowing he wouldn’t be able to retake the test, but said it to placate his father. Severus wouldn’t allow him to even attempt the test if he still felt ill in any way, shape, or form.

“That will do. Come by tonight before curfew, if you can manage it.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

“Good day, Harry, Mr. Weasley,” he said before casually unlocking the door with a wave of his wand. As expected, a wave of students nearly stampeded their way inside, but Severus’ harsh voice warned them off. Only the other Weasley’s and Hermione were allowed to enter. Everyone else would just have to wait.

……………………………………..

There was only one more day left for their OWLs, and Harry couldn’t wait for it to be over. He’d never been so stressed in all his life. He had been able to take his Potion’s OWL, but as expected, his earlier bout of extreme pain had left him weakened and fatigued. Afterwards, he’d stumbled back into his dormitory, completely forgetting about meeting with his father before curfew.

He climbed into bed, fully intent on turning in early. Before he’d even gotten the chance, however, the door opened and Ron walked in, along with the rest of their dorm mates.

“Hey, Harry, feeling better?” asked Neville, standing almost rigidly. “You about gave me a coronary this morning,” he added upon seeing Harry’s strange look.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll make sure and put up a silencing spell from now on,” he said, feeling bad about waking them up so horribly. He expected they’d be pleased with the idea.

“Oh no you won’t!” exclaimed Ron, stamping his foot for emphasis.

Harry spun around to look at his best friend. “Why not? It will allow you lot to sleep in for once,” he argued, knowing his nightmares often kept them all awake at night.

“It’s not safe, Harry. We’d feel better if we could hear you. For all we know, you could be suffering like you did this morning all night long if you have a silencing spell up!” Seamus was just as adamant as the others.

“That’s right, Harry,” added Dean, nodding his head along with everyone else.

“There, it’s settled then,” Ron deemed the conversation over, even though Harry thought his was worth some consideration. He was attempting to do this for them. But, he could understand where they were coming from. If Ron or any of his other friends were having the same problem as he was, he’d want to be able to wake them up and save them from the pain. And honestly, he’d really rather they wake him up and save him from the pain as well. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, not by a long shot.

“All right, I agree,” he finally said after a moment’s deliberation.

“Right, glad you agree,” Ron sat down on his bed and pulled out what looked like a Weasley invention. It also looked rather loud. Probably a Fred and George original, but he wasn’t in the mood right now for fun and games. All he wanted to do was sleep!

“Ron, are you going to mess with those right now?” he asked tiredly. He’d worn down a long time ago.

Ron nodded his head. “Sure am, why don’t you come over here and join us?” he asked, patting a spot beside him on his bed. “It’ll be fun. And you need some fun right now,” he added, as the door swung open, admitting none other than Fred and George themselves.

“Please guys, I want to go to sleep!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, come on Harry, it’s only eight o’clock. You never go to bed this early,” said George, grabbing one of his hands and attempting to pull him up. Harry wasn’t making it easy for him and had grabbed onto one of the bedposts. His already sore body began to ache terribly.

It should have been obvious that Harry didn’t feel good at all, especially considering he wanted to go to bed at eight o’clock, but his friends were too worried trying to get him to have some fun. They were worried he was too depressed lately with all that had happened with his father, Sirius, and Remus. They had almost already forgotten what happened just that very morning.

“Harry, it’s time for some fun, mate! Just come on!” George gave a giant tug on Harry’s waist sending the both of them to the floor in a heap. If Harry had felt bad before, he felt like hell now. But, he was almost to the point where he would rather give in and join in their games for an hour or so than deal with their continued attempts to pry him into it. He hurt too much to argue, anyways. And his head was beginning to ache once more. It just wasn’t worth it.

“Fine,” he grumbled, getting helped to his feet by Fred, who looked a little concerned.

“You don’t look too good, Harry. Maybe we should just let you go to bed,” he started.

Seamus cut him off before he could say anything further. “No! This is the last chance we’re going to have to do this!” he exclaimed and pointed to the calendar. “We only have two more days of school left! We’ll be busy with tests tomorrow and with packing the day after that! We can’t waste this precious time that’s been given to us!” he said, trying to sound philosophical, but wasn’t quite meeting the standards.

“Shut up, Seamus!” yelled Dean, and ended up with a pillow in the face for his efforts. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly.

Harry smiled at the look on Dean’s face. Maybe having some fun wasn’t so bad after all. Everything else had seemed so melancholy lately. But he was still so tired he could hardly stand it.

Suddenly, Ron threw a little blue pebble like object in his direction, which shuddered to a halt directly over him. Harry looked up apprehensively, wondering just what this thing would do. As if on cue, a rainstorm brewed up straight over his head. He stood there completely still as he was showered with raindrops. He imagined it rather looked like he was standing in a shower, only without the showerhead. Harry glared at Ron. He was entirely soaked now, which helped his aching body nothing at all.

Great. I’m going to get you for this Ron. He saw the look on Ron’s face and wondered if the redhead couldn’t read his mind. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

Harry grabbed the box Ron had brought in and took out a white pebble from the container. He examined it for a moment and was strangely aware of how smooth it was, almost like it had been polished. They all looked polished, actually. Harry didn’t know why he was taking notice of minute details. Shaking his head, Harry turned towards his best friend, conveniently hiding the pebble behind his back.

“What do you have?” asked Ron, backing away.

“Nothing,” murmured Harry innocently.

Fred scoffed, smirking. “You’re going to get it, baby brother,” he said laughingly. He was glad Harry was joking around with them.

“Shut it!” yelled Ron, having backed into his bed and had nowhere else to go. “Come on, Harry, I’m your best friend. Don’t do anything nasty!” he exclaimed as Harry reared his arm back as if to throw.

“You threw a rain storm at me,” remarked Harry. “Why do you think you would be the exception here?” Harry grinned.

And he threw the white pebble. His aim was a little off, hitting Ron smack in the forehead. Harry laughed loudly. “Sorry!” he yelled, not really meaning it.

Ron cursed as a volley of snow came cascading down his shirt, causing him to shriek in an undignified manner. “Harry Potter!” he yelled, trying to sound intimidating. He didn’t quite pull it off.

“I didn’t do anything to you that you haven’t already done to me!” he said excitedly. “Minus the snow, I guess,” he added at Ron’s look.

Neville took a mysteriously dangerous pebble out of the container. Harry couldn’t possibly imagine what that one did. “Neville, maybe you shouldn’t do that,” warned Harry, but it was too late. Neville dropped the pebble on the floor, too nervous to toss it at anyone, and no one was prepared for the reaction it caused. The entire room began to shake, sending Harry and Fred across Ron’s four-poster bed and landing with two thuds on the other side. Ron was tossed across the room as the floor upheaved and bucked. Neville was thrown as well, but landed comfortably on his own bed. Seamus and Dean, however, were both nearly sent clear out the window! If it hadn’t been for Seamus’ quick thinking, the two of them would have been airborne. Grabbing hold of one of the heavy curtains, Seamus had latched on, grabbing Dean as he literally flew past him. Finally, the chaos seemed to come to an abrupt end, leaving a massive hole in the middle of their dorm room.

Harry climbed up from an uneven patch of floor and crawled to the edge of the hole. It was deep, very deep, and Harry had a sudden feeling of panic at the thought of the Common Room and the rest of the castle below them. What had happened? Was everyone okay?

“Harry, be careful!” yelled Fred, grabbing his waist and pulling him back from the edge. He’d nearly slipped, cutting his hand on the rugged edge of the hole, where the floor had broken upwards. The cut on his hand wasn’t very deep, but it was bleeding quite freely. His headache increased ten-fold. Things could not possibly get any worse.

Grabbing the sheet off of Ron’s bed, Fred ripped a length of it off and tied it securely around Harry’s furiously bleeding hand. “There, that should help until we get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

Harry couldn’t even think about that right now, there was a gaping hole in the middle of their dormitory! They had to do something. Still worried about the possible situation in the Common Room or further down in the castle, Harry began to work his way around the room, attempting to avoid the hole altogether, but it was a difficult task.

“What are you doing, Har?” asked Ron, standing up and joining Neville on his bed. Seamus and Dean had taken refuge on his bed as well.

“I’m going down to the Common Room, make sure everyone’s all right,” he stated calmly. He had to step closer to the hole to get to the door. As careful as he was, he still managed to slip again, this time slicing open his leg. “Ouch!” he yelled, bending down fractionally to inspect his newest cut. “We are never using these things again!” he yelled irritably.

“You’re right, we won’t,” agreed Fred, trying his best to get to Harry to help him out. He’d brought along more pieces of Ron’s sheet for bandages. He didn’t bring enough. Harry’s cut was much deeper this time, and Fred was growing increasingly alarmed at how much blood the boy was losing. “I need some more pieces!” he yelled, indicating to Ron’s tattered bed sheets.

Neville lightly jumped off his bed and headed for Ron’s. “I’ll get them,” he said and quickly grabbed the entire sheet when he reached the bed. He gasped in shock as the entire box of pebbles slid off the bed, along with the sheet. He couldn’t grab the box and it toppled down into the hole. “Oh, no!” he moaned, turning to look at Fred and George. “What happens if they all go off together?” he asked anxiously.

The twins met each other’s eyes and shuddered. “We’re not sure. That’s never happened before. But, I think it’s safe to say that we should get the hell out of here,” said George, looking very serious.

“What’s that noise?” asked Seamus, taking a risk and peering over the edge of Neville’s bed to gaze into the hole in the floor. A roaring noise had taken up somewhere deep down. The entire lot of them gathered slowly around the gaping hole and tentatively looked into it. Something was rising from the depths below them, and rising fast.

“We should leave!” yelled Neville over the loud roaring sound.

“Good idea!” agreed Ron.

Fred grabbed Harry, who was finding it difficult to walk, and began to drag him towards the door. They all had to walk on the side of the hole to get out, and as soon as they started to, a wave of water came flying up and crashed down upon them. Harry was ripped from Fred’s strong grasp and suddenly found himself underwater. Struggling to swim upwards, Harry became confused, and didn’t know which way was up. If he started swimming downwards, he’d never get out! But, somehow, his face broke free of the raging water and he gasped in great gulps of air greedily.

“Harry, grab my hand!” yelled Ron, standing just on the edge of the hole. Harry tried, he really did, but his already weakened body had grown impossibly fatigued. He was still losing blood fast, not helping matters at all. He could hardly lift a hand, let alone his entire arm.

“I can’t!” he moaned tiredly, but still tried. His head went under again and he started panicking. He felt someone grab him and he kicked instinctively.

“Ow! Harry, knock it off,” Seamus had been knocked into the hole now swirling with water, too. He tried to grab Harry, but the boy was dead weight in his arms. He could hardly keep his own head afloat, let alone Harry’s. “Harry, please, you’ve got to help me out here!” he exclaimed as they both went under once more.

Finally, Harry was able to kick his feet in an effort to swim to the side. “Good, that’s good, Harry, keep kicking!” encouraged Seamus.

“Come on, we’ll get you!” Fred was now standing at the edge with his brother, Neville, and Dean.

No one noticed when the door opened. No one heard an intake of breath.

Suddenly, the cavernous hole beneath them shuddered and heaved upwards. The water evaporated and Harry and Seamus were sent into the air before landing on the hard, completely intact floor with a thud.

“What is going on here?” asked a steely voice from the doorway. Harry knew that voice. They were all in so much trouble. Severus was furious.

Ron rushed to explain. “We were just trying out some new inventions. We’re really sorry professor, we didn’t know this would happen!” he yelled, indicating the floor, before he remembered it had been fixed. “I’m just glad you came when you did,” he said, shocked at the thought. But, Harry and Seamus could have been seriously hurt, they all could have.

George cast a drying charm on them all, flinching internally when Snape started talking.

“I cannot believe you all were so incredibly dense to use these inventions without supervision. They were excessively dangerous. You all could have been seriously injured,” Snape paused, his mind quickly going over possible punishments. “You’ll all serve detention with me tonight.” His tone was dangerous and cold, daring them to disagree with him.

No one said a word.

“Good, get moving,” he said menacingly when no one had moved an inch. “That goes for you too, Harry,” Severus waited for Harry to get up, but he didn’t. The other boys were already at the door and looked back at their friend.

“Harry?” asked Fred, stepping closer, but Snape stuck out his arm, halting him.

Harry laid shivering and trembling on the floor, but it wasn’t from being cold. His impromptu plunge into the water had caused him to panic, but being as weak as he was, he couldn’t express it with his normal flinging of arms and legs. His headache was pounding behind his eyes, he could feel his fever returning, but he knew it wasn’t from a vision, not this time. He was sick with fear and his exhaustive body would only allow him to lie there, quivering on the floor.

Severus approached his son slowly, cursing himself for not noticing his child’s distress immediately. He recalled the incident at his Manor with Draco and Harry. Draco had told him Harry had some kind of phobia of the water. He’d even spoken with the boy about it, but Harry had assured him he was fine, that it didn’t happen very often.

He placed a calming hand on the boy’s shoulder. Harry jerked violently, causing him to moan as his aching body throbbed even more at the movement.

“Shite! We never should have forced him to do this,” said Ron, angry with himself and the others.

Severus heard them and whirled around. “What?” he asked, just a tinge of anger showing in his voice.

Ron cringed. Snape was going to kill them for this. “He didn’t want to. He wanted to go to sleep, said he was tired, but we made him,” he said slowly. “He was so sad lately, Professor! We just wanted him to do something fun, to cheer him up! We never would have done anything had we known it would come to this!” he exclaimed quickly at Snape’s volatile look.

Fred sighed. “I don’t think he felt good, either, Professor. Probably still sore from what happened this morning, I’d think. Is he just exhausted now?” he asked, not knowing about Harry’s panic attacks when it came to being submerged under water.

“No, it’s more than that,” Severus replied quietly. “You’ll serve detention with Filch tonight,” he said suddenly as he scooped Harry into his arms.

Harry weakly fought against him, but had no strength to do anything more. “Harry, it’s Severus. I’m right here, please calm down,” he whispered gently. Harry stilled in his father’s arms, his head resting against the man’s shoulder.

No one argued about their punishment, they all felt as if they deserved it, quite frankly, after seeing what their ‘night of fun’ had done to Harry. “We’re sorry, Professor,” Neville said quietly before they all slipped out the door.

Severus sighed. He carried his son down to the dungeons, and Harry never made a sound.

“Harry, can you hear me?” he asked when the boy’s silence had began to unnerve him.

A moment or two passed before Harry finally spoke. “Yes.”

Harry’s father breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you all right?”

“It hurts,” he answered, pressing his head into his father’s chest. “Everywhere. My head won’t stop pounding.”

“We’re almost home, Harry, and then I’ll retrieve a pain relieving potion,” he paused, seeing the blood still trickling from the wound on his leg and the blood covered makeshift bandage covering his son’s palm. “I believe you’ll need a healing potion as well.”

Harry nodded, still ensconced in his father’s protective embrace, finally feeling safe. The incident in his dormitory this morning, and just now had been awful. All he’d wanted both times was his father.

They entered their rooms and Snape gently laid his son down on the couch. Harry wanted the contact back, but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t a child, and it actually shamed him to be feeling this way, wanting his father so much.

Severus came back into the living room and handed his son two vials. “Drink those,” he instructed, sitting down across from him.

Harry did as he was told. The pain reliever helped ease his headache, but the rest of his body still ached, and his wounds had healed altogether. Rolling onto his side, he faced his father. “Am I in trouble?” he asked, remembering how Severus had stormed into their dormitory and gave out detentions. “Shouldn’t I be in detention, too?”

“I’m letting you off this time. Mr. Weasley informed me that you were forced into the charade when you had preferred to go to bed. And honestly, I don’t believe you’re even up to one, not one dealt out by Filch. So no, you won’t be attending any detention.”

Harry sighed. He didn’t feel up to serving a detention, he felt like sleeping, but his aching body probably wouldn’t allow it. There was also a matter of nightmares, he was certain. When he’d been trapped in the water, unable to break for the surface, he’d wanted so badly to panic. To thrash his arms and scream, but he hadn’t had the energy to do either. Now, he felt disoriented, like it hadn’t happened at all, almost like a dream. But he knew it had occurred, he was just trying to force it to the recesses of his mind. Those thoughts would surface in his dreams, they always did. He shuddered at the thought.

Severus noticed. “Are you chilled?” he asked, even though he had an idea that wasn’t the case at all.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. Not much of an answer, really.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Severus inquired after a moment of silence.

Harry looked up questioningly. “Talk about what?”

“What transpired just now in your dormitory.” he stated. Severus realized he was being rather blunt, but his son was being incredibly stubborn with his denial. He had a problem and something needed to be done. “After you were ejected from the floor and when I finally got a good look at you, I realized what was happening,” he added, hoping his son would take the hint and start speaking with him.

“You realized what was happening?” he asked dully. He sighed and tried to turn away from his father. Severus wouldn’t allow that. He gently grabbed Harry’s shoulder.

But Harry wrenched away from his father, sitting up on the couch. “Don’t touch me,” he whispered.

Severus bowed his head and sighed, mostly in agitation, but not at his child. “We need to discuss this, Harry.”

Harry wouldn’t budge. “Not right now, please?” he begged, his voice hollow.

The older man couldn’t force himself to make Harry talk; he didn’t want to hurt his son. “Very well, but we will discuss this later, Harry.”

The boy nodded in agreement.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, then.” Severus waited until Harry had lain back down before covering him with a blanket. Harry still refused to go into his room, alone, at least. He had gone inside a few days ago, with Severus in tow, to retrieve some clothes and a few notes for one of his classes. But he couldn’t sleep in there, not yet. But he was making progress.

“Dad?” Harry looked hesitant.

“Yes, Harry?”

The raven-haired boy looked down at his blanket. “Never mind.”

Severus watched his son silently for a few moments before turning out the light. He was halfway down the hall to his bedroom when Harry called out again.

“Wait, dad!” he yelled, sounding frightened.

With a flick of his wand, the lights were back on and Severus rushed into the living room. “What is it, Harry?” he asked.

The boy had sat up, looking worried. “Will…will you just…stay for a minute?” he asked tentatively.

Severus smiled gently. “Of course I will,” he said. He had intended to sit down in the chair, but Harry seemed so lost and confused that he sat down on the couch instead, pulling Harry against him. “Sleep, child, I’ll be right here.” It was a pleasant feeling, knowing his son needed him. He’d thought otherwise before, that Harry wouldn’t need him for anything; he would do more harm than good to his son. Now, he realized he was wrong. Harry did need him, needed someone he could trust and depend on. Severus was determined to be that someone.

Feeling safe once more in his father’s arms, it wasn’t difficult at all to fall into a restful sleep.

When he next woke, it was early in the morning, judging by the watch on Harry’s wrist. He felt incredibly rested, more so than he’d felt in weeks. Feeling it was much too early to be amongst the living, Harry went to roll over and go back asleep, but wasn’t able to. Looking up, Harry practically gasped. He’d nearly forgotten he’d asked his father to stay with him the night before, but the man was still here! Harry was virtually lying across his dad’s chest and he couldn’t possibly see how Severus could be comfortable. But in a way, he looked just as rested as Harry felt.

There was a warm sensation growing in Harry’s stomach that he couldn’t quite identify, but it felt nice. Harry felt safe and content, but he was also a mite embarrassed. This was really the first and only time he’d ever been comforted by someone who willingly stayed with him, even in sleep. Severus could have left, but he didn’t. Still, he didn’t want his father to wake up before he could get up and moving. Regretfully, Harry gently levered himself out of his father’s arms and off the couch.

Snape hardly moved but to reposition himself in a more comfortable position.

Harry waited until the dark haired man settled before going to get ready for his last day of classes.

…………………………………

Harry walked out of his last OWL test feeling refreshed and happy. He was finally done! All of the stress he’d been feeling for the past few months with studying and getting ready for the tests was finally gone.

Running up the many flights of stairs, Harry was determined to dump his things in his trunk and slam the lid. He didn’t want to look at another book for the rest of his life, or at least until next term. As soon as he entered the room, he did just that. He was so intent on his purpose, he didn’t even notice his friends were in the room.

“Hey, Harry,” said Seamus quietly, startling the life out of the raven-haired boy.

“Seamus!” he yelled, slapping a hand over his heart to stop the rapid beating.

“Sorry, mate. Are you okay?” he asked, getting up from his bed. Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean were all seated on Seamus’ bed, looking over notes from the look of it. Harry had only had two OWLs today, whereas the rest of his friends had three. Harry had opted out of Divination this term, his friends had not.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said slowly, wondering why they were looking so worried. Then he remembered what happened last night. Had they seen his decent into panic? Harry took to folding the blanket on his bed, even though he planned on using it that night.

“Well, I guess we all just wanted to apologize for making you join us last night. We knew you were tired, but we made you anyways. We’re really sorry,” said Ron, feeling awfully guilty.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay. I mean, I made the choice, ultimately, to join in. I didn’t really want to, but it’s not like you forced me to. Not really. I’m just sorry you all had detention last night and I didn’t.”

“Well, it was obvious you definitely weren’t in the state to stand detention, and besides, it wasn’t you’re fault, we were to blame. You shouldn’t have had to serve detention anyways,” said Neville, wishing he’d kept more control of the box last night, preventing it from falling in the gaping hole. Hell, he wished he’d never picked up that pebble in the first place. None of the chaos from last night would have happened if he hadn’t. And to top it all, Harry had told him to leave it alone. He should have listened.

Harry shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over and done with. I’m just glad it didn’t turn into an even greater disaster than it already was.”

“We’re still sorry,” Dean added, looking truly regretful. They all did.

“Don’t worry about it!” Harry was adamant. He didn’t want them spending the rest of the school term apologizing to him. “Forget it. Let’s just go down to the Common Room. Hermione, Fred, and George are down there playing Exploding Snap. It will be fun,” encouraged Harry, already at the door.

The four boys nodded, letting it go, and followed Harry downstairs.

…………………………………………

The leaving feast was delicious, as per the usual. Ron was stuffing his face while Hermione looked on in disgust. Harry grinned.

”What are you going to do over the summer?” she asked, clearly happy that her friend wouldn’t be going to the Dursley’s.

Harry shrugged, a large bite of scrambled eggs in his mouth. He swallowed. “I don’t know, actually. Probably just lie around and have some fun. I can even play Quidditch and ride my broom whenever I want!” he said excitedly, relishing in his freedom. “And If I never have to do another chore again, it will be too soon. Dad says the only thing I’m supposed to keep clean is my room!”

Ron and Hermione smiled sadly. They were happy for their friend, but it was almost sad seeing him get so excited about only having to clean his room.

“And maybe you two can come and visit me?” he asked, looking down at his plate. He didn’t know if they would want to come over, considering who his father now was. “I mean, I can understand if you don’t want to,” he added.

Ron smacked his shoulder. “Of course we’ll want to come over, don’t be a dunderhead!”

Harry smiled as Hermione gave him a quick hug. “We’ll definitely be dropping by as often as we can. This will be so much fun!” she said enthusiastically.

The rest of the feast was filled with excited talks about the summer and making plans. Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy about leaving Hogwarts. It was utterly amazing. He was going to have the greatest vacation ever.

…………………………….

The next morning, Harry stood on the platform, waiting for his friends to arrive. He and Severus had had a long discussion the night before. He’d had to nearly beg his father to let him ride home on the Hogwart’s Express. Severus had just wanted to apparate the both of them straight from the school. But, it just wouldn’t have been the same. Harry wanted someone to be waiting for him when he got off the train, someone who actually cared about him. After explaining that to his father, Severus had instantly agreed to pick him up at the train station.

Draco came by, a bag strung around his shoulder. “Hey, Potter,” he said, smiling.

Harry smiled in return. “Where are you going for break?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“Home.”

Harry frowned. “Who will be there?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “My mother. Honestly Potter, what did you think I was going to do? Stay in a house all by myself?” he asked, laughing casually.

Grinning at the Slytherin, Harry nodded his head. “Sorry, didn’t think of that.”

“Well, don’t go worrying about me, Harry. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

The Gryffindor watched as Malfoy walked further down the platform. For some reason, Harry was worried. He’d talk to his father about it later.

Turning back towards the castle, he saw Ron and Hermione pushing through a bunch of Hufflepuffs who didn’t seem to realize they were standing directly in their way.

“Excuse me!” huffed Hermione, shoving through.

“Oh, sorry!” apologized a sixth year girl. The others moved over after that.

“Hey!” yelled Harry, getting their attention. The two smiled and headed for him.

“Ready to leave?” asked Ron as the train pulled into the station.

“As I’ll ever be. But, yeah, I can’t wait for summer to start. Do you think you’ll be able to come over the first week, or is that too much to ask?” asked Harry, grinning.

“I’m sure my mum wouldn’t mind,” said Ron, knowing Harry was serious, despite his joking attitude.

Hermione agreed.

“Good.”

The three friends piled onto the train and went in search of an empty compartment. “This one is empty,” shouted Hermione from further ahead of them.

The trip home seemed almost longer, yet shorter, all at once. But, Harry was distinctly happy when they pulled into the station. His heart was fluttering in his chest, hoping his father had made it on time. Not knowing why, Harry worried the man might not be there. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it.

Ron and Hermione went through the barrier first, Harry tagging along after them. He looked all around the crowded platform, searching for his father. There! He saw him, standing just a bit away from the Weasley’s.

“Dad!” he yelled, shoving his way through the crowd of people. Severus saw him and waved.

When he finally reached him, Severus threw an arm around his shoulders. “Hello, son.”

Harry smiled.

Mr. Weasley called Severus over to confer about the children’s summer plans. It must be extremely odd knowing your youngest son would be spending a majority of his vacation with Snape, someone his son had hated up until just this year.

Harry stood watching his father talk with Arthur Weasley, smiling intermittently at his best friends. He felt a presence behind him right before a hand fell roughly onto his shoulder. He turned his head. “Uncle,” he stated unnecessarily. The man looked strange, less alive than he used to be. But, then Harry remembered both his wife and son had been killed. Harry hung his head. “I’m sorry about Aunt Petunia and Dudley,” he said softly. The hand gripped him tighter.

“It’s time to go,” he said emotionlessly.

Harry recoiled as if he’d been struck. “I’m not going with you,” he stated adamantly.

Vernon shook his head. “Yes, you are,” he told the boy in a tone of voice that truly frightened Harry. “I’m still your damn guardian, am I not?” he asked menacingly.

“Dad!” yelled Harry, instantly getting his father’s and Mr. Weasley’s attention.

Severus was at his son’s side in three strides. “Unhand my son!” he growled, making the man comply by tone of voice alone.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Vernon asked. “You’re not his father, I knew his low-life father, and you’re not it.”

Harry bristled, but Severus placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “I’ve adopted him, ingrate. He’s mine son legally. You have no hold over him any longer.”

By this point, the entire Weasley family, along with Hermione’s family had gathered around Harry for support. Harry welcomed it.

“I never saw any such papers for an adoption. Aren’t I supposed to sign over my rights to the boy?” he asked, looking very unhappy indeed. Harry didn’t know why, it’s not like the man had ever loved him.

“Albus Dumbledore placed him in your care. When it became apparent you were lacking in that regard, he extinguished any rights you may have possessed,” said Severus.

Vernon blanched. “That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t just take away my rights! He’s my nephew! Petunia was his guardian, and in the event of her death, I would take over the position!” he bellowed. “I want him!”

Harry was upset now. “No you don’t, you’ve never wanted me. Why the sudden interest now?” he asked.

Vernon was beyond angry now, his fat face turning a shade of purple. Harry knew instantly that it would be best to back down, but with his father around, he wasn’t nearly so frightened of the man. But then his Uncle suddenly shoved Severus out of the way and grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulders. Harry yelped in surprise and pain. “You ruined my life!” he bellowed, shaking Harry so violently his head jerked back and forth. “You’re the reason they’re dead! I’ll make you pay!”

He stopped shaking Harry and pulled back his arm, intending the strike the boy. Harry flinched, but the blow never came. He looked up to see that Severus had grabbed Vernon’s arm. He had never seen his father look so angry before, not even when he’d attacked Professor Dillard in the Great Hall.

“Don’t you ever lay a finger on my son again!” he bellowed, shoving the man away. A few Order members that Harry hadn’t noticed before came up and dragged his raging Uncle away. Harry briefly wondered what they would do with him, but was distracted from his thoughts as a soothing hand came down on his aching neck. It hurt badly from his Uncle’s abuse. He leaned into the touch. “Are you all right?” asked his father.

Still a bit shaky, Harry didn’t trust his voice to speak. He started to nod, but it actually hurt to do that. “Yes.”

Severus was still worried, but knew Harry would talk to him if he were truly troubled. “Let’s get home then, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Ron and Hermione rushed over to give Harry a hug, and in Hermione’s case, a big kiss on the cheek.

“How’s your head?” asked Hermione, checking the boy over and tenderly massaging his neck with one hand. “I thought he was going to shake your head straight off your body!” she nearly hissed. Harry looked at her in surprise, Ron as well. Hermione shrugged. “I don’t like people hurting my friends,” she explained, wrapping her arms around both of them.

Harry turned at a strange sound. It was almost a whistling sound, and it sounded strangely ominous. He quickly caught eyes with his father, knowing something was going to happen. Severus was a few feet away from them, talking to an Order member. Finally, an object came into view, hurdling at them from an unknown source.

“Get down!” bellowed Harry. It was instinct. He didn’t know for sure what the object was, it could have been harmless, but he just knew it wasn’t.

No one hesitated and hit the floor. It was a good thing too, for only a second later, the object landed where they had been standing, exploding upon impact.

Severus was on his feet and running to his son before anyone else could move. “Are you hurt?” he asked, kneeling down beside him.

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m fine. What was that?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“It was a potion, designed to explode upon impact. We have to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

Ron and Hermione ran up to the two of them, followed closely by the rest of the Weasley’s.

“We’re under attack,” stated Mr. Weasley, looking concerned for them all. There are Death Eaters blocking the south entrance. I saw them myself just now. We’ve got to get the children out, Severus.”

The Slytherin nodded. “I realize that, Arthur. Someone needs to get in contact with Dumbledore. We’ll need help and we need it now.”

Moody, one of the Order members who had come with them, offered his services in this capability. “I’ll fetch reinforcements. The rest of you try and get out of here,” he said briskly. “Here comes Tonks now, she’ll be able to give you some assistance.”

Another blast to their right sent one of the pillars supporting the train station into pieces. People were screaming and running in all directions. “What about the muggles?” asked Harry, wanting to help them all get out as well. They didn’t understand what was happening.

“We’ll help who we can, otherwise, they’re on their own,” said Severus coldly. Harry knew he wasn’t being harsh on purpose. He was just trying to keep a cool head and get them all out alive. “Let’s move.”

They attempted to just go back through the magical barrier, but one of the explosive vials had already struck it. It was in ruins.

“Damn!” cursed Severus, looking back at the others.

“We have to find another way out,” said Hermione unnecessarily. “What about the parking garage? There are stairwells in there, we can get out by using them,” she said suddenly.

Mr. Weasley looked towards the parking area; there hadn’t been any explosions yet in that area. They could make it if the Death Eaters were sufficiently distracted from their escape. “Alright, children, I want you to take Mr. and Mrs. Granger with you and get out through the stairways. Professor Snape, Molly, and I will cause a distraction,” he said, having already gotten permission from his wife and the Professor from eye contact alone. They’d all had the same idea.

“No, then you won’t be able to get out!” protested Ron. “We won’t leave you!”

“Yes, you will, Ron. There’s no discussion here. This is the only chance we’re likely to get. There are other people to consider than us.” Mrs. Weasley leaned closer. “You have to get Harry out of here,” she whispered so only Ron could hear.

Ron looked close to tears, they all did, but knew his mother was right. Fred and George came up and grabbed his arms.

“Come on, little bro, we’ve got to go,” they said, casually pulling the boy away.

“I’m not leaving you,” Harry grabbed his father’s hand, refusing to let go.

“Harry, you must,” he implored, hating the look in his son’s eyes. He looked devastated, as if he’d already lost another father.

“What about you? I can’t just leave you here. Something might happen!”

Severus shook his head, prying Harry’s tightly grasping fingers off his hand. “I’ll be fine, now go!”

“I can’t lose you!” screamed Harry. Over all the screaming and explosions, Severus barely heard him, but the desperation in his son’s eyes was word enough.

Glancing up, Severus caught Fred’s eyes. He nodded significantly in Harry’s direction, and Fred came over. “I love you, Harry,” Snape said, bending down slightly and kissing the top of Harry’s head. He roughly embraced his son and held him for a moment. “Go,” he whispered.

Harry felt arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him away from his father. He tried to fight the arms, but they were stronger than he was. The boy watched, stricken, as his father ran off into the pandemonium surrounding them. Suddenly spells and curses were sent flinging at the Death Eaters. They knew this was their sign to run for the parking garage. Harry nodded and ran with his friends.

They burst through a set of double doors. Harry glanced back and was able to catch a glimpse at who was throwing all the explosive potions. He stopped, rooted in the spot as he realized who it was. The man wasn’t wearing a Death Eater mask, but he was wearing their robes. Someone grabbed his arm and he was hauled bodily from the doors. Shaking off his surprise, Harry ran down the wide corridor, chasing after his friends.

Ahead of them, there was another set of double doors. Mr. Granger pushed them open and they all found themselves in a large concrete parking garage.

“There, there’s the stairway!” yelled Hermione, running across the level of parking. They were on the third level. It wouldn’t take them long at all to reach the first. Harry took off after his friends, all of which having gone after Hermione. He passed through lines and lines of parked cars before arriving at the other side.

Harry was just reaching the door to the stairwell when he felt his scar explode in pain. Dropping to his knees, he pressed a hand furiously to his forehead, desperately trying to stop the pain. Voldemort was here! His friends were all halfway down the stairs, not noticing that he’d fallen behind.

“Ron,” he gasped around the intense agony in his head. The redhead didn’t hear him. “Ro-“ he nearly screamed as the pain intensified to a level he’d never felt before. Voldemort was extremely happy about something, and he was getting closer. Harry, reduced to half-dragging, half-crawling his way down the stairs, grabbed the rail and leaned forward to see his friends rounding a bend on the stairs. Grasping his head, Harry called out. “Ron!” he screamed, garnering all of their attention.

“Harry! Behind you!” yelled Fred, suddenly sprinting back up the stairs towards him. Ron and Hermione darted upstairs after him.

Harry shakily turned around only to come face to face with a Death Eater. The man had leaned down and was staring his directly in the eyes. It was startling to say the least.

The Death Eater pulled out his wand and directed it towards the stairwell.

“Look out!” yelled Harry, shoving the man’s arm upwards. The spell went south, hitting the ceiling and causing it to crash down around them. Harry was grabbed under the arms and roughly pulled to his feet.

Still reeling from the pain, Harry was unable to defend himself as the Death Eater dragged him back into the parking garage.

“Harry!” he could hear all of his friends screaming for him and hoped to God that they were all okay. The way they had come was now completely blocked, they wouldn’t be able to get up the stairwell to come and help him.

The Death Eater who held him forced him back into the train station. Upon entering, he saw that more Order Members and Aurors had arrived. He searched for his father but couldn’t find him anywhere. He did see Sirius and Remus, though.

He tried to get their attention, but was roughly punched in the back to dissuade him. “Keep your mouth shut, Potter,” hissed an all to familiar voice.

Harry’s head shot up and he glared at the man holding him. “Malfoy!” he spat, struggling again.

Lucius threw him to the floor. Harry winced but was instantly trying to stand again. “You were arrested!” he said, just a little indignant. “How did you escape?”

The Death Eater laughed and viciously grabbed Harry’s hair, dragging him to his feet. “Did you honestly think I’d be held in custody for long? Potter, Potter, Potter, how stupid of you,” he said snidely. “I have more officials in my pocket than there are Death Eaters in Voldemort’s ranks.”

Harry growled. He hated this man. Not only was he a Death Eater, but even worse in Harry’s opinion, he’d also abused his own son. And thinking of the blonde haired Slytherin, Harry looked around, hoping his new friend had gotten out somehow. He hadn’t seen him since they’d boarded the train, and that was only in passing.

Most of the Muggles were gone from the area. Harry could only hope they’d all managed to escape. Lucius suddenly began dragging Harry along the station and towards the entrance doors. “Time to meet your master, Potter.”

Harry scoffed. “He’ll never be my master, Malfoy.”

“I have no doubt,” replied Lucius. “At which point you will die…horribly.”

When a volley of spells sent their way diverted the man’s attention, Harry cautiously pulled his wand out of his pocket. Malfoy was slipping if he’d forgotten Harry’s wand, which was just fine with him. Casually raising his wand in a fashion that wouldn’t draw attention, he aimed.

“Incarcerous!” he shouted. Ropes flew into existence, wrapping themselves tightly around Malfoy’s torso, his arms now stuck at his sides.

Malfoy was furious. “You insolent little shite!” he screamed, pulling at the ropes, but they were tied fast.

Harry grinned at the man. “Sorry,” he said cheekily. Malfoy raised a leg to kick the boy, but Harry’s wand was already raised once more. “Petrificus Totalus!”

Lucius Malfoy’s body stiffened, one leg still raised, as he fell to the ground. Harry thought it looked rather uncomfortable, but he could really care less about this particular man’s comfort.

His scar was still raging, but he was managing to ignore it quite proficiently.

He was still attempting to stand up when an arm grabbed him under the arm. Harry yelled and ripped his arm free.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry sighed in relief. It was only Remus.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly do it on purpose,” he said, pointing to the Death Eater confined on the floor.

Remus gasped. “Are you all right?” he asked, quickly checking him over. A sudden blast of light whizzed right between the two, sending Harry backwards, into a pillar. Remus fell to the floor.

“Come on!” yelled Remus, once more taking Harry’s arm.

They tried to rush across the platform to reach a group of Order members. Harry noticed his father and Sirius were among them. A sudden hail of curses caused them to jump behind a car. How a car ended up on the platform, Harry didn’t know, but hide behind it they did.

Remus pointed his wand at the attacking Death Eaters, yelling, “Reducto!”

Luckily, considering the older man couldn’t see where he was aiming, the spell hit a number of trolleys the Death Eater’s were using as cover, effectively destroying them.

“Attack!” yelled an Auror, rushing towards the now open Death Eaters.

Wands were drawn and the attack was upped a notch. Harry stayed well hidden behind the car as spells, curses, and hexes flew rapidly around him. Remus had run out to join the fray. “Stay here!” he yelled.

Harry nodded; he had no intention of leaving this spot. Or so he thought. His scar exploded once more in unbearable pain. Forcing himself to look up, he found Voldemort standing only a few yards away.

“Oh, shite!” he exclaimed, trying valiantly to get to his feet. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Somewhere behind the overturned car, he heard someone yell. They’d finally noticed that Voldemort was here. Maybe someone could help him then, though he doubted it.

Finally finding purchase on his feet, Harry stood proud and tall. “Hello, Tom,” he stated cheekily. He knew the monster before him hated the name and fully intended to use that to his advantage. He wasn’t rooted to the spot this time, he could fight back now and had no problem using Voldemort’s birth name.

Voldemort hissed. “I see you haven’t learned your lesson, Potter,” he took a menacing step forward. “I believe it’s time we fix that.”

Harry smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

Furious at the boy’s flippant attitude, Voldemort raised his wand. “Crucio!” he bellowed. Harry was ready for it, and dodged out of the way, raising his own wand in defense.

“Expelliarmus!” he yelled, hoping it would work. Things were never that easy, though.

Voldemort stepped out of the way, laughing evilly. “Nice try, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Impedimenta!” he yelled. Voldemort hadn’t even noticed Harry had raised his wand. The movement had been that fast. He wasn’t able to get out of the way in time and the spell struck him. Slowed down, but not stopped, Voldemort raised his wand, breaking the spell placed on him.

“You shall pay, Potter,” he growled, not willing to give into his fear. The boy had just done something even he himself couldn’t accomplish. The speed at which he just moved, unnoticed by Potter himself, was impossible.

Still shocked he’d hit Voldemort, Harry found himself not paying close attention. The curse struck him before he could even protect himself. Harry fell to the ground, arching his back as the pain engulfed his entire body, like liquid fire. It was agony and he tried not to scream, but it was inevitable. A scream was finally ripped from his throat as he writhed in agony on the floor. It seemed to go on for eternity, and then the pain vanished.

Severus was suddenly there, standing over him. Harry looked up in surprise as his father and Voldemort stared each other down.

“The traitor in my midst,” said Voldemort casually. “You picked the wrong side, Severus. It’s a pity you didn’t realize that from the beginning. And taking Potter under your wing?” his face turned into a grimace, as if disgusted by the mere thought. He looked at Harry then. “Do you realize the type of man your father is?” his tone indicating that it was an awful type of man that Voldemort would be more than happy to share with him. “What he used to do in my service?”

Harry glared. “My father did horrible things, I do realize that. But he’s changed for the better. And he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be!” he spat, a true look of disgust on his face as he stared Voldemort in the eyes. “You should have stayed a Riddle,” he added, just to add fire to the flame.

Voldemort reared back as if stung, then his eyes glowed a dangerous shade as he raised his hand. Harry didn’t hear a spell, but suddenly Severus was thrown from where he stood protectively over him. Harry screamed as his father crashed into a pillar, landing with a thud on the floor and remained still.

Harry ran to his father, dropping down beside him. “Dad?” he asked, pushing on his shoulder. There was no response. He grasped his wrist, feeling for a pulse. He found one, but it was weak...and fading.

“I tire of your presence, Potter. You shall bother me no longer.” Voldemort raised his wand, the curse rolled off his tongue. “Avada Kedavra!”

Harry had already blocked the evil wizard out of his mind. He was focused solely on his father. As the curse raced towards Harry, Voldemort smiled, knowing he had won.

If he’d only known just how wrong he was.

Harry’s innate wandless magic flared to life as he felt the life leaving his father. A brilliant white light pulsed out from within him. The killing curse bounced off the shield of light, rebounding to the one who sent it.

Harry never noticed as Voldemort’s body fell to the floor, never noticed as Death Eaters everywhere clambered to escape once they saw their master fall. His full focus was on his father, to heal him. The light surrounding them billowed upwards, coming out of him in waves. It was soon surrounding the entire station. Harry never noticed as pillars righted themselves, as cars flew back onto the street, as trains were realigned with the tracks, as ceilings were pulled back together.

His eyes closed, Harry noticed nothing. If Severus died, he’d die right along with him. But that wouldn’t be the case, not today. He felt a strong hand wrap around his wrists. Harry opened his eyes and looked down. His hands were resting on his father’s chest and a pale, long fingered hand was gripping his wrists tightly, giving Harry purchase.

“Dad?” he asked shakily.

“You can stop, Harry. I’m fine,” he whispered, looking above them in wonder.

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked up as well. It was beautiful, like a dome of white color and light was surrounding them, surrounding them all. Waves of light cascaded around them as Harry finally reined in his magic, letting it flow back into him. He gasped as the last wave of power entered his chest and collapsed onto the floor.

“Harry?” asked Severus, sounding scared. “Harry?”

Harry barely managed to look up into his father’s face. “Just tired,” he muttered. He glanced around and noticed that everyone in the entire station was staring at him in wonder and awe. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically just before he passed out.

…………………….

Harry woke up in the Hospital Wing. Why he was back at Hogwarts, he didn’t know. Hadn’t school ended? Then he remembered, the battle at the train station and facing Voldemort. His father lying on the ground, not breathing.

Harry shot up in bed, looking around wildly.

“Harry, Harry, it’s okay. Calm down!” exclaimed Sirius, grasping Harry’s shoulders and forcing him to make eye contact.

“Where’s my dad?” he asked frantically.

Sirius looked over his shoulder. “Snape!”

Harry tried to see over Sirius’ shoulder, but couldn’t manage it. He heard rushed footsteps and then…there he was.

“Dad,” he relaxed, finally seeing him safe and sound. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Severus sat down on the bed and pulled Harry close. “You’ll never lose me.”

Harry grasped his father tighter around the waist. “Is everyone else okay?”

“As well as can be expected.” Harry thought those words weren’t exactly comforting. Then he remembered his friends, and the collapsed ceiling.

“What about Ron? Hermione? Fred and George?” he asked, sitting up, straining against his father’s arms.

“Harry, would you stop!” demanded Severus, finally taking Harry’s face in his hands and forcing eye contact.

“They’re fine. No one was hurt, besides Fred, who has a broken arm,” he said, pointing at the bed behind him. Harry practically shoved Severus’ hands off his face in order to see.

“I’m fine, Harry,” said Fred, looking a bit amused. Then he turned serious. “Are you okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, of course I’m fine,” he said.

“Well, after collapsing like that yesterday, everyone was worried. We thought you’d drained yourself or something.”

Harry smiled. “No such luck, I’m fine,” he answered, glancing once more at his father.

“What happened, anyways? I remember trying to heal you, but that’s pretty much all I remember.”

Everyone in the Hospital Wing stopped what he or she was doing.

“You don’t remember? What about Voldemort? Do you remember what happened with him?” asked Remus, coming over from the other side of the room. Harry finally noticed that there were quite a few people laid up in the other beds.

Harry looked at them strangely. “Yeah, we dueled,” he paused, trying to remember where he had gone. “I guess he escaped then?”

Sirius looked flabbergasted. “No, Harry, he didn’t escape,” he announced slowly.

Harry was confused. “Then where is he?”

“He’s dead,” said a voice from the doorway. Harry looked over and was surprised to see Dumbledore standing there. Then the man’s words started to make sense in his head.

“WHAT?” he asked, pulling away from Severus’ embrace. “How?” he asked, and then, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, Harry, I’m quite serious. And as to the how, well, it was you.”

Harry stared. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s understandable, Harry. You were a bit preoccupied with more important matters.” Dumbledore rationalized, glancing at his Potions Professor. “I understand you saved your father’s life.”

Harry nodded, but really wanted to get on to the ‘how Voldemort died’ conversation. “Yes, yes, but how did I kill him?” he asked, annoyed when he heard someone snicker. “Oh, just tell me already!”

Dumbledore took pity on the poor boy. “When your powers unleashed, you created a type of shield around yourself and your father. As you were creating this shield, the killing curse was already heading your way. It bounced off your shield and hit Voldemort instead. He’s gone for good now, Harry. We’ve made sure of it this time.”

Harry sat on his bed, shocked. “He’s really gone?”

“Yes,” stated bluntly and truthfully.

Harry wanted to yell and scream and jump up and down, but didn’t think that would be thought upon very well. He settled for, “It’s about damn time.”