Even the sound of his own breathing was nearly too much in the tense, fragile silence. Harry thought he had never seen anyone as near the breaking point as Snape was now, though Snape moved methodically, as though there were no great hurry to his actions.

"Continue to administer two drops every two minutes. Keep the plaster moist. Change the water as necessary."

Harry nodded, his trembling fingers curling around the small, narrow-necked bottle Snape pushed into his hands. He was already repeating Snape's instructions in his mind, not wanting to forget anything.

"Don't let him get up, no matter what he may say," Snape warned. He was pulling on his cloak, already striding toward the door even as he gave his final instructions.

"I --"

The door shut behind Snape before Harry could finish.

"-- won't."

He checked his watch in sudden panic, but two minutes had not passed since Snape had poured two drops of blue liquid down Lupin's throat.

He had to force himself to reach across the divan and touch the cloth lying across Lupin's eyes and forehead.

Lupin looked dead.

The cloth was wet and cold, and Harry snatched his hand back quickly, shivering and ashamed of himself.

This was not the right time to fall apart.

He checked his watch again. Only four minutes had passed since he had pounded on Snape's door and delivered his ill-timed message. It had taken that long for Snape to show him what to do for Lupin, and that was time on top of how long it had taken Harry to walk, still too uneasy in the violated castle to allow himself to run, from Lupin's office to the dungeons.

He watched the seconds tick by until the very moment it was time to administer the blue potion. He tried, clumsily, to prop up Lupin's head, spilled the first drop, but somehow got the next two into Lupin's mouth.

There was no reaction. Lupin's head lolled limply back onto the pillow as soon as Harry's supporting hand retreated.

He changed the cloth, though it was still moist and cool, just to have something to do, and sat back, watching the seconds tick by again until the next time, and the next, and the next.

 

---

 

The sound of the door opening made Harry jump, and the bottle wobbled, spilling a drop down Lupin's cheek. With great difficulty, Harry kept himself from turning around until he had finished.

All he saw when he did look was a lifeless bundle wrapped in Snape's cloak, one limp arm dangling, before Snape disappeared into the bedroom.

He checked his watch -- it was now something of a compulsion -- and stayed where he was, at Lupin's side.

Snape moved through the room several times, never stopping, as he retrieved potions from a cabinet in the corner, but he said nothing to Harry and Harry never found the courage or the right words to break the silence.

He found, now that he was so suddenly presented with the possibility, that he did not want Malfoy to die.

He had no explanation for this feeling, and refused to let himself dwell on it when he needed all of his attention on the task Snape had assigned him. Another two minutes had passed. Two more drops of blue potion that seemed entirely useless, for Lupin never stirred and seemed at times not even to be alive. In the time before Snape's return, there had been a moment when Harry's imagination had run amuck sufficiently that he believed Lupin to have stopped breathing. For a few moments he had been frozen by terror, unable to force himself to lean close enough to feel Lupin's warm breath puff against his face.

Still, the blue potion was all that he had; it was all he could do for Lupin. He was the one at Lupin's bedside, but he did not know what else might be done to help. There was just the potion that didn't seem to make any difference, but it was all that he could do. Two more minutes; two more drops. If it was all he could do, he would at least do that much right.

"Drink this."

"Thank you."

Harry jumped. From what he had seen just minutes earlier, he hadn't expected to hear Malfoy's voice.

"I'll be back shortly."

Harry moved quickly out of the way as Snape took his place.

There was something comforting in the methodical way Snape worked, like he knew exactly what to do for Lupin and the most efficient way to get it done.

"Is he..." Harry started hesitantly. "I mean... he hasn't moved at all."

"Poisoned with truth serum," Snape replied in a clipped tone.

"Poisoned..." Harry frowned. "Poisoned with it?"

Snape huffed in annoyance, but Harry couldn't be sorry for asking. He desperately needed to know.

"Tainted truth serum. We controlled production and we made sure the Ministry's supply would be worthless."

"And now he's been poisoned?"

"Unfortunately so. It reacted with any number of potions he has been taking, including the Wolfsbane only a week ago."

Harry swallowed hard. "Is he going to die?"

His own voice, hollow and low, terrified him.

"No." But there had been a fraction of a second of hesitation in Snape's reply. "If I thought the antidote wouldn't react just as badly in a larger dose, this could be taken care of very quickly." Snape stood up, motioning for Harry to take his place. "Administer the potion as before."

Snape rummaged through the potions cabinet and disappeared into the bedroom without another word to Harry.

"Drink this."

"I'm going to be sick."

Harry shuddered as the sound of retching followed shortly thereafter.

"Drink all of it this time." Snape sounded irritated. "I can't help you if you don't follow instructions."

"I tried."

"Try again. There, is that better?"

Two minutes; two more drops of blue potion. Harry tried to keep listening, but gave up when his trembling hands, clumsy with unreleased tension, caused him to spill.

"... and Gregory?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't see?"

"I..." Malfoy's voice broke. "I didn't want to see... after Vincent."

A shiver of foreboding prickled up Harry's spine.

"And Vincent...? Are you certain he was dead?"

"They... they left him in the cell. After. For days."

There was a short silence.

"I'm sorry."

Snape's softly spoken words caused another shiver to tremble through Harry's body. He realized suddenly that his nails had dug holes into the armrest of his chair.

"Hermione... Granger, I mean --"

Harry nearly dropped the bottle of potion, even as his watch told him two minutes were up. With deadened fingers, his ears straining to hear, he tried to pour the required drops of blue liquid into Lupin's mouth.

"-- Hermione Granger," Malfoy repeated, as if finally deciding on her name. "Neville wouldn't leave without her, but -- do you know? Did she get out?"

Harry's stomach clenched hard enough to double him over, his breath strangled out of his body.

"Yes," Snape said. "Weeks ago."

Oxygen rushed back into Harry's lungs. His vision blurred.

"Good... Luna, too?"

Harry's heart counted out the seconds. The long silence was deafening.

"No," Snape said, finally. "I'm afraid we have no information on Miss Lovegood."

He had forgotten about the bottle. A cold trickle down his wrist alerted him that he was about to drop it, and Harry realized with horror that he had lost all track of time. With great effort, he dragged his eyes off the doorway to Snape's bedroom and to Lupin's face, where he saw, miraculously, that Lupin's bloodshot eyes were open.

"Here -- you need to take two drops of this." His voice barely registered above a whisper.

Lupin drank the potion without question, then struggled to sit up as Harry put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Snape said you mustn't."

It was unnecessary, anyway, as Lupin's attempt was unsuccessful. With a gasp, he fell back against the pillow.

"Who is with him?"

"Malfoy."

Lupin's eyes flew open.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry amended, thinking it had been unclear.

But on second thought perhaps it had not been; Lupin looked intently at the bedroom doorway, though neither he nor Harry were in position to see anything beyond.

"Is he hurt?" Lupin asked sharply.

"I..." Harry considered what he had seen. "I guess. He fainted outside the gates and I think he was still out when Snape brought him in. But he's awake now."

Harry glanced at his watch. It seemed hopeless; he had lost track again.

Lupin accepted the potion with only a slightly quizzical expression.

"Every two minutes," Harry explained. He was still trying to listen for any sounds from the bedroom, but either conversation had ceased or Snape had put up a silencing charm.

Lupin was clearly struggling to stay awake. Harry adjusted the blanket, trying to make him more comfortable, and checked his watch again. He wondered if Snape ought to be informed Lupin was awake, in case it made a difference.

As if summoned by Harry's unspoken thoughts, Snape appeared in the doorway, pulling the door quietly shut behind himself.

"I'll be fine, Severus," Lupin said, his scratchy voice hardly audible and falling far short of being convincing. "Do what needs to be done. Please."

Snape ignored him. He replaced the moist cloth even as Lupin succumbed to either sleep or unconsciousness, adjusted the blanket as Harry had done a moment earlier, and wiped the traces of spilled potion off Lupin's face. Even with all of that done, he seemed to hesitate, a frown knotting his eyebrows. Finally, his eyes flicked over to where Harry stood uselessly off to the side, waiting to be told what to do next.

"I still need to make a round of the castle."

Harry nodded mutely.

"I will send Molly Weasley down when I'm certain it's safe, but it may be a while."

Harry nodded again. His tongue had dried out, sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"He should be over the worst of it now. Administer a capful of potion every ten minutes." Even as he said this, Snape was demonstrating by pouring blue liquid from the bottle into the hollow on one end of the glass stopper. "Hold his head up when you do so; the larger amount poses a risk of choking."

Harry accepted the offered bottle, still unable to speak.

Snape hesitated again, his lips twitching unpleasantly. "Draco may wake. I can't give him a sleeping draught in his present condition."

Harry swallowed convulsively, though there was no trace of saliva in his mouth.

"If he does wake, I left a meal on a table in the bedroom." With a swish of Snape's wand, there suddenly appeared a set of covered plates and goblets on a tray on a small table in the corner of the room. "I doubt Lupin will be interested in food, but you need to eat. It is unlikely we will have regular meals today. Eat when you need to."

Harry felt anything but hungry, but he only nodded again, and Snape, with a final intense glance at Lupin, turned and left.

For a few moments Harry simply stood in silence, his mind oddly blank.

Then, feeling the returning weight of responsibility, he sighed and checked his watch, noting the position of the hands and repeating over in his mind, as though he could possibly forget, what needed to be done.

"Professor Snape?"

Harry wanted to ignore the hoarse voice from the bedroom. It was too much, really. It was too much to ask of him right then, after everything else.

But he couldn't.

Reluctantly, he pushed open the door.

A low-burning torch flared to full flame, so that he wasn't stepping into darkness, and his eyes fell at once on the bed and its occupant.

It was a shock, even though he had been prepared to find Malfoy looking as ill as someone who had needed to be carried in might look, to find he hardly recognized the boy in Snape's bed. The blond hair and pale grey eyes were all that was familiar in the skeletal, ashen face. Malfoy seemed to be dressed in one of Snape's nightshirts, and he was drowning in it. The top buttons, left unfastened, revealed jutting, sharp collarbones.

"Who are you?"

Harry fought to force himself into the Hadrian persona. Hadrian, who had never met Malfoy, would not still be standing in the doorway, glued to the spot by his inability to settle conflicting emotions of contempt and horror.

And then, now that he was facing Malfoy, came the heavy feeling of dread about what it would all mean, and how much more complicated everything had become in so short a time. This was one of those times he had been repeatedly warned about. This was one of those times when every word he said had to be picked over with utmost care.

"Hadrian," he answered. His tongue felt wooden from lack of use. "My dad brought you in. He's a teacher here."

Malfoy's face wrinkled in a frown. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes. Are you a student at this school?"

"Of course I am," Malfoy said, struggling to sit up. "Wait. Your dad? Professor Snape?"

Harry could feel as well as see Malfoy's eyes raking him over from head to toe, and even though he knew what Malfoy was seeing, it was an uncomfortable feeling.

"He's never said anything about a son before."

"No?" Harry tried to put some challenge into his voice. "Well, I only just found out myself this summer. When my mother died."

Malfoy blinked. "Oh. Sorry." He paused, as if expecting some reply, but Harry knew the weaknesses in his story too well to volunteer more information. "I'm Draco. I --"

But whatever Malfoy had been going to say was cut short by a bout of coughing.

Without thinking about it, Harry fetched a glass of water from the table at the side of the bed.

"Thanks," Malfoy gasped as soon as the coughing fit had passed.

"No problem," Harry said grudgingly, preoccupied by a thought that had just occurred to him. Malfoy had given him only his first name. He would have to be extra careful not to address him as Malfoy, at least until someone else did so. The number of things he had to remember every time he opened his mouth seemed to be growing at a dangerous pace.

"Where is Professor Snape?" Malfoy asked, craning his neck as if hoping to see Snape lurking just beyond the doorway.

Harry hesitated. Malfoy didn't need to know Snape was out securing the castle, did he? That implied there weren't others who could do the job, didn't it? But Malfoy didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so that information would do him no good if...

Well, if.

There were a lot of things that could fall under that category, weren't there? Harry had no way of knowing where Malfoy had come from or... anything. And that meant Malfoy didn't need to be handed information.

But how to explain Snape's absence?

"He had to take care of something," Harry said, finally. "He said he might be gone a while." Seizing on a diversion, he motioned at the tray sitting on the table. "He said to make sure you ate, if you woke up before he came back."

"Oh," Malfoy said, obviously disappointed. He tried to sit up, managing to get mostly upright by propping himself up against the headboard. "Can you put the tray closer?"

Harry did so, setting the tray down carefully on the bed. A covered bowl steamed lightly next to a goblet of pumpkin juice. His own stomach growled, and he remembered the food Snape had left in the other room.

He had already been wondering how he would get back in time to give Lupin his potion, especially since it occurred to him that he did not want Malfoy to find out about Lupin just yet. Now an idea came to him.

"I have my own meal in the other room, if you don't need me."

"Of course. Go ahead."

Harry checked on Lupin, but Lupin's condition had not changed and there was nothing Harry could do for him but to administer the potion and readjust the blanket.

He sat at Lupin's side for a while, but the nagging presence of Malfoy in the next room was impossible to ignore. Though he had no desire to spend any more time in Malfoy's company than he already had spent, he found himself carrying the tray into the bedroom.

Malfoy had his tray set over his knees. Harry stopped short as he saw what was on the plate, and had to force his face back into a neutral expression as he took a seat in the only chair in the room. With a sinking feeling he uncovered one of the plates on his own tray.

He couldn't help sighing with relief to see the plate was overloaded with toast, eggs, and sausages.

He looked from his own plate to Malfoy's.

Malfoy prodded a greyish lump with his fork. It fell apart into a soggy mess.

"You can have some of this," Harry offered charitably. "I'm not going to finish all of it."

Malfoy shook his head.

"But that stuff's disgusting."

Malfoy poked at another lump, chewing and swallowing with a grimace. "How would you know?"

Harry frowned.

"Your own mother didn't starve you, did she?" Malfoy went on, his voice taking on a vicious tone.

"Er..." Harry felt like he had blundered into something he wasn't quite prepared for. But then, he'd been feeling that way for a long time now. "No."

Malfoy stabbed another lump with his fork. "Great. At least you still have your father. He's all right."

Harry bit his lip, but couldn't stop himself. "What about your parents?"

Malfoy's scowl deepened. He let the fork clatter to his plate and fixed Harry with a glare, but after a moment seemed to decide against retorting. Picking up the fork again, he turned his glare on the food instead.

"Sorry," Harry said, almost feeling it. He'd known he shouldn't have asked.

Malfoy swallowed another forkful of food and made a face. "My father was in Azkaban."

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

"My mother was packing up, talking about going abroad until things calmed down." Malfoy huffed derisively. "Of course I thought she meant the two of us. Death Eaters --" He paused. "You know about that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, trying hard to keep his voice even. "I know about that."

"My father was one," Malfoy said. His voice dropped so low that Harry unconsciously leaned forward. "I didn't know she was. I never thought to be afraid of her."

"Your... mother?" Harry asked. Involuntarily, he swallowed. Whatever he had expected, he hadn't expected to hear that Malfoy had been afraid of his own parents.

"Maybe I should have," Malfoy went on, as if not hearing him. He stared unseeingly at the wall, his fork lying abandoned on the duvet. "Aunt Bella was her sister."

Harry swallowed again, his throat constricting and choking his breath out of him.

"There were raids. All the Death Eater families... and the ones who supported Dumbledore and Potter." Malfoy paused, grimacing. "Funny thing, isn't it?"

Harry nodded numbly.

"Aurors came in the middle of the night. She just stood there when they arrested me."

Harry stared at him. He tried to imagine how that might have been, but for some inexplicable reason his own mum's last moments played out in his head, instead. "Maybe she couldn't --"

"Naive, aren't you?" Malfoy smiled mirthlessly, shaking his head. "No. That was how she stayed free."

Harry found that there was absolutely nothing to say to that.

"They let me go after my father got out of prison, but I refused to take the floo back to the Manor, so --" Malfoy shrugged. He blinked, his eyes refocusing, and looked around for the dropped fork, wiping it on a napkin before stabbing it into another grey lump on his plate. "That's all, really."

The silence stretched while Harry tried to think of what he should say.

"How about you? What did Professor Snape try to feed you this glop for?"

"I..." Harry thought desperately, but his mind was still a blank. This is what he got for feeling sorry for Malfoy and saying more than he ever should have. "I don't know."

Malfoy swallowed another forkful of food and looked like he was fighting the urge to gag. He sipped his pumpkin juice. "It's all right if you don't want to say. I understand."

Harry's mouth fell open in a retort, but somehow no sound came out.

Malfoy picked up his fork again, then put it down, drawing in several shallow breaths. "Look, can you take your food somewhere else? The smell is making me ill."

"Sure," Harry said, suddenly wanting to get away from Malfoy and his problems and his questions and his sickening food.

He pushed the bedroom door half shut behind him, his hand clenched so hard on the doorknob that his fingers ached with the strain. He couldn't get his breath back, and the effort of keeping his gasps for air inaudible was making his chest feel like it was on fire.

Looking up, he saw Lupin's eyes on him, and that was exactly what he didn't want just then. Didn't want Lupin to see him like this, or for Lupin to have heard anything he'd said or Malfoy had said. Didn't want to be told to be more careful, or to be more understanding, or more anything that Lupin usually thought he should be.

He managed to uncurl his hand from the doorknob, set down his food tray, and took a few deep breaths before he finally felt up to turning around to face Lupin again.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked quietly, his voice still scratchy, but stronger.

"No," Harry said, not caring that he was saying it just to be contrary. "What did you hear?"

A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. "Everything, I'm afraid."

"Great."

Lupin had pulled himself up into a half sitting position with two cushions propping him up. His hands were resting over the duvet, his wand held loosely. "Come sit, Harry."

Harry jerked around to look at the bedroom door, still partly open.

"It's all right, there's a silencing charm."

Harry had to take another deep breath before he could trust himself to look at Lupin without glaring.

"Come. Sit."

Harry sat down, looking Lupin over. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much." Lupin reached for the bottle of blue potion and carefully measured out the next dose. He drank it with only a mild grimace. "Thank you for taking care of me. I realize it must have been frightening."

"I thought you were going to die," Harry said bluntly. "I think Snape thought so too."

Lupin carefully replaced the glass stopper, screwing it on tightly. He reached over to place the bottle back on the table. "Hmm."

Harry frowned. That wasn't an answer at all... though he supposed he hadn't actually asked a question. Maybe he'd just wanted some reassurance. Was that too much to ask?

"I know you've had a rough morning," Lupin said placatingly, likely misreading Harry's silence as anger. "It placed a heavy burden on your shoulders, and for that I'm truly sorry."

"All right," Harry said. He was finding that sometimes it was easier just to agree and let it go. A huff of annoyance escaped, though he really did not want to argue with Lupin, on top of everything else. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Lupin hesitated. Then he smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure a few days of rest will do me a lot of good."

Right. Rest. And how was anyone supposed to get any rest when even Hogwarts wasn't safe? Harry swallowed hard and tried to match Lupin's smile, but it was difficult.

Lupin was looking at him in that scrutinizing way again, as if he was judging whether an outburst was coming or if it was safe to change the subject.

Harry let out a breath, suddenly realizing how tense his shoulders were and that he had his arms tightly around himself, nails digging into flesh.

"Would you do something for me?"

"Sure," Harry said. His face felt odd. He was almost certain whatever expression he was wearing just then wasn't even close to a smile.

"Go over to that bookcase over there --"

Harry followed the movement of Lupin's hand. "You want the Map?"

Lupin fell silent, scrutinizing him again, and Harry realized uncomfortably that his voice had been a lot harsher than he'd intended.

"Yes, the Map," Lupin said slowly, as though he regretted ever asking.

"I saw Snape using it before," Harry said, trying to shrug in what he hoped was an unconcerned way. "It doesn't matter."

That was a lie. It did matter. Somehow he had thought Lupin was the one who was keeping his things. What else did Snape have? His album? Years worth of letters from his friends? Letters from Sirius?

He got up abruptly and went over to the bookcase, removing the thick book that held the Map. He took a deep breath before turning around and carrying it back to Lupin. Just then, with everything else, it really wasn't worth discussing.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded and sat down again, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Lupin unfold the map, angry with himself for forgetting that Snape had not deactivated it. If he had just unfolded it while carrying it, he might have had enough time to find the Weasleys. Lupin was keeping the Map at just such an angle that Harry could see absolutely nothing. Why was that necessary?

"How come you didn't summon it?" He pursed his lips, hating how the question had come out. Why did he always sound so angry lately, even when he wasn't? Not at Lupin, anyway. "I mean... you've got your wand."

Lupin's hand closed around his wand and he turned it over slowly between his fingers, as though it was something unfamiliar. "Didn't want to chance it, with all the delicate things Professor Snape keeps on that bookshelf."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Out of habit, Harry's eyes darted to his watch. "I think you need to take the potion again."

Lupin's eyes never left the Map, but he reached blindly for the potion bottle on the table.

"Here, I'll get it," Harry said exasperatedly. He snatched the bottle off the table and measured out the dose.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is there some reason I can't look at the Map?"

Lupin looked up, lowering the Map to his lap. He blinked at Harry, frowning slightly. "I suppose not. I hadn't thought of it. You won't find the Weasleys on it and there's no one else in the castle who would interest you."

"Oh," Harry said. His shoulders slumped dejectedly. So much for that idea. "Who are you looking for, then?"

"It's just something to do. I'm useless here. At least I can keep an eye on the entrances until the castle is secure again."

"You are not useless," Harry said indignantly. "I think I'd go mad if I didn't have you."

Lupin tilted his head to one side, studying him again.

"Here, I mean," Harry amended, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. Sometimes he really couldn't tell if Lupin was very keen on being counted among the very few trusted adults Harry still had in his life. "If I didn't have you here, I'd be alone with Snape and -- and Malfoy, so..." He trailed off, scowling, because once again he had somehow managed to say the very thing Lupin didn't want to hear from him. Why could he never see it coming before it was out of his mouth and it was too late?

Lupin let a few uncomfortable moments go by in silence, and then let it go without comment. "How is Draco? I should have asked before. Is he very unwell?"

"He looks terrible."

"But he's speaking. He's very coherent. That's a good sign."

"I suppose so. Professor..." Harry stopped and chewed his lip. He wanted answers, but he had already managed to put Lupin on guard, and that was never very conducive to getting the truth out of him. "Earlier Malfoy was talking about my friends like he'd seen them. Like they'd been wherever he was." He stared straight into Lupin's eyes, refusing to be put off this time, when it was so important. "Are any of my friends going to show up looking as bad as him?"

"They may," Lupin said, his voice low. He didn't break eye contact, but there was a nervous twitch in a vein on his temple as he paused, waiting to see if Harry was about to explode. "We tried to help as many people as we could."

"You told me --" Harry's voice broke, and he had to swallow before he could continue, forcing the words out. "You told me my friends were safe."

"And they were, by the time you asked. Hermione was released long before you arrived at Grimmauld Place. Neville, too. Molly and Arthur went into hiding rather than risk any of their children being detained."

"Luna?" Harry asked, remembering Snape's words and tone.

Lupin pursed his lips, like he didn't want to answer. After a moment he shook his head.

"You don't know?"

"We don't know. It looked like she had left with her father. House locked up, nothing disturbed. You have to understand, Harry, that it was chaos. Whole families were going into hiding. Some were barricading themselves in their homes. People were going missing every day, and we didn't always know if it was by choice or not. You don't tell a lot of people if you're planning to run."

"And Luna?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Her father was found dead a few days ago. That was our first clue they hadn't left voluntarily, and that Luna could be among the detained."

Harry became suddenly aware that he had clenched his hands so hard he had drawn blood. "It's my fault, isn't it? It's because she went with me."

"We --"

"Or because we used the Quibbler last year," Harry cut in, unable to stop. "Malfoy said they grabbed anyone who supported me."

Lupin rubbed his forehead and sighed. "That is true. Though in most cases I would say it could have just as easily been their support of Dumbledore."

"But not in Luna's case. It was me."

"You can't blame yourself." Lupin caught one of Harry's hands and stared with a frown at the smudge of blood on the palm. "We had no idea things could deteriorate to the point of Aurors coming to snatch children from their homes."

Harry drew a shaky breath. "So... Luna could be dead right now. You don't know."

"I don't know," Lupin repeated softly. "I'm sorry, Harry. We did everything we could do for those people we could help. We're trying to find out what happened to her, and others like her."

Suddenly, Harry was trying to think of others he might have endangered. Who else was too close to him? Would they know who was in the D.A.? Hadn't that list got out? Had Fudge kept it, or had it been taken from him in the aftermath of Dumbledore's failed arrest? If they had it... for God's sake, Dumbledore's Army, led by Harry Potter. How could that fail to paint a giant target on someone's back?

Lupin still had his hand and was rubbing it comfortingly. "Are you all right?"

"No," Harry said, completely honestly this time. "Why is this happening? Why --" He made a helpless gesture, unable to find the right words. "I don't understand."

"Terrible things happen in a war."

"Why can't it just be over?" He just couldn't let go of the belief that it should all have been over with Voldemort's death. It should have been over. "He's dead. Why isn't it over?"

Lupin sighed, shook his head, and didn't answer.

Harry felt hollow inside. He wasn't even angry anymore. Just tired and numb.

"Harry?"

"I think it's time for your potion," Harry said, forcing himself to look at his watch so he wouldn't have to look at Lupin. After following the second hand around the dial, he finally looked up. "I'm fine."

Lupin looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded, silently accepting the end of the conversation, and reached for the potion bottle.

For a while, Harry was content to sit quietly, keeping an eye on his watch as Lupin continued to examine the Map. He felt incredibly tired, which he supposed wasn't much of a surprise. He'd been running on adrenaline all morning, and now he wouldn't mind crawling back in bed.

"Anything?" he asked, thinking Lupin was staring just a little too intently at one corner of the Map.

"Mrs. Weasley is on her way here."

"Oh. Right... Snape said he'd get her."

Lupin drew in a breath, and Harry reckoned he was about to be reminded to be more respectful, but Lupin just let it out slowly, gave him a mildly reproachful look, and went back to the Map.

Harry suddenly realized what Lupin must have wanted the Map for. He felt a bit foolish for not thinking of it earlier. "Are you watching him? Is he almost done with the wards?"

"Yes, done. He's in the Headmaster's --" Lupin caught himself, wincing. "The Headmistress' office."

"Is she back?"

"No, she isn't." Lupin frowned at the Map. "Maybe you ought to check on Draco."

Harry turned to look at the door. He didn't at all want to talk to Malfoy again. "What for?"

"In case he needs something." Lupin lowered the Map to better be able to give Harry another reproachful look. "Mrs. Weasley has enough to do looking after her own children."

Harry got up and walked as quietly as he could to the door, only remembering the silencing charm once he got there and feeling foolish again. He looked in. "He's asleep."

"Good. It sounds like he needs the rest."

Harry spotted the food tray dangerously close to the bed's edge and sighed with resignation. It wouldn't do to have it come crashing to the floor and wake Malfoy up.

He tiptoed into the bedroom, creeping up to the foot of the bed.

Malfoy didn't stir.

"Great," Harry muttered to himself.

He knew his imagination was running away from him again, but he stared at Malfoy until he was quite sure he had seen his chest rise and fall twice with even breathing. Annoyed with himself, he retrieved the tray and left the room quickly.

"Everything all right?"

"Perfect," Harry said, sitting down again. "Just perfect."

Lupin glanced down at the Map, then back at Harry. "You'd best get ready."

Harry swallowed and looked at the door, half expecting Mrs. Weasley to burst in.

That was silly of course. Snape would never allow that.

He was so on edge that the knock, though expected, made him jump. "I'll get it," he said stupidly.

"Thank you, Hadrian," Lupin said, giving him a pointed look.

"Right," Harry said. Back to being Hadrian, then, and watching every word that came out of his mouth. Somehow, he couldn't help being grateful for the reminder. "Thanks."

He walked quickly to the door and opened it, letting Mrs. Weasley bustle in like a minor tornado.

She crossed the room before Harry had even opened his mouth in a greeting. Ignoring him, she started to fuss over Lupin in a way that made Harry glad he wasn't the one ill this time.

"How are you, Remus? Never mind! I can see you're running a fever."

Harry looked at Lupin more closely. All he knew was, Lupin looked distinctly better than before. Now that Mrs. Weasley mentioned it, however, Lupin didn't look all that well at all.

"Tsk, tsk... Severus should have let me come sooner."

"Never mind, Molly. You know we couldn't risk it. You're here now."

"You!"

Harry jumped, blinking. "Yes, ma'am?"

She sized him up, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Tell me what's been done for him."

"Uh..." Harry's brain refused to work for a moment. "That potion, there. He needs to take it every ten minutes."

Mrs. Weasley picked up the potion bottle and held it up to the light. "Poisoned," she muttered angrily. "Of all things...! I suppose you're fortunate they didn't drag you down to the Ministry, this time."

Harry shivered, imagining what might have happened.

"Well, I don't dare give you anything else. Let's see if we can't make you more comfortable."

Lupin had a distinctly miserable expression on his face by the time Mrs. Weasley was done with him. She had conjured a scratchy-looking woolen blanket and cocooned him in it, leaving only his head free. He looked the very opposite of comfortable, but Mrs. Weasley seemed quite satisfied with her work.

"Now," she said, looking from Lupin to Harry, "where is the boy?"

"In there," Harry said, pointing at the bedroom. He rather wanted to see what she might do to Malfoy. "He's sleeping though."

To his great disappointment, she shut the door behind her.

"Hadrian," Lupin said in a strained tone, "would you mind putting this bit of parchment back where you found it?"

Harry's eyes darted toward the Map, which Lupin had apparently had time to put out of Mrs. Weasley's way. It was folded, but he could see it was now blank.

He replaced it into the old book and returned it to the shelf. He wondered if this might be the last time he saw it for a while. Snape wasn't likely to leave it there, in a place Harry now knew about.

He looked at the closed bedroom. He couldn't hear anything from the other side.

"Do you need anything, Professor?"

"No," Lupin said shortly. He had worked one hand out from under the blanket and was scratching his neck. "Thank you just the same."

Harry shrugged and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"-- stay in bed!" The bedroom door flew open, revealing Mrs. Weasley with an armload of folded bed sheets.

Harry tried to get a look inside, but she pushed the door firmly shut.

"You -- boy -- Hadrian, isn't it?"

Before Harry could make much more than a surprised squeak in answer, the entire pile of laundry was dropped into his arms, nearly tipping him over.

"Find some clean towels for me, will you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said, slightly more warmly. She gave him a bit of a push toward a door Harry had not taken notice of before. "Be quick about it."

Harry shuffled off toward the door, dawdling just enough that he saw her sink down next to Lupin, rubbing her forehead and sighing.

"It's a crime, Remus. A crime. When I think about what might have happened if we hadn't left when we did... That could be my Ron in there, or Ginny, or --"

"You can't let yourself dwell on it. Your family is safe."

Reluctantly, Harry pushed open the door in front of him, and found himself in a cold, cavernous bathroom. He looked around at the stone walls and heavy marble sink and bathtub, and couldn't help shivering.

There was a hamper in a corner, so he dropped everything inside.

He opened several cabinets -- most were filled with bottles, flasks, and vials of unknown liquids -- until he found one that contained towels. Scooping up a stack of them, he hurried back, hoping to catch more of the conversation.

He stopped short, staring with near incomprehension.

Snape was back. He had McGonagall with him, and McGonagall had her arm around a pale, thin girl who was almost lost inside a dark green cloak Harry recognized as being one McGonagall wore in colder weather.

It took several moments for him to force himself to recognize the girl as Luna. Her hair had been savagely cropped short and she had a vacant expression on her pinched face. She was staring straight ahead.

"It isn't your fault at all, Minerva," Mrs. Weasley was saying.

Harry tore his eyes off Luna to better understand what was being said.

"Yes, it was clearly planned," Snape said. He glanced up, looking straight at Harry. "They wanted you out of the castle."

"If you hadn't gone," Lupin added firmly, "we don't know if they would have let her go. It was the only thing to do."

"You're right, I know." McGonagall sighed, shaking her head. "I just can't help thinking how many people were endangered."

"We're all right," Mrs. Weasley said, patting McGonagall on the shoulder comfortingly. "It was too early for any of us to be out and about." She turned to Luna with a smile that seemed forced. "How are you, dear?"

A long moment passed silently. Luna continued to stare unseeingly.

"She hasn't spoken," McGonagall said, her lips thinning into a white line. "Your daughter is a friend, isn't she?"

"Yes. Ginny has been worried sick."

"It might help. Will you take her upstairs?"

"Of course." Mrs. Weasley wrapped an arm around Luna and steered her toward the door. "Let me know if there is anything else I can do. Arthur and I feel so damn useless!"

"You shouldn't. You've both helped a great number of people, and now you have your own children to take care of."

Snape stepped out of Mrs. Weasley's way, pushing the door open for her. "I will be up shortly. Give her water or weak tea, but no food yet."

"I must go," McGonagall said. "I fear there may have been more --" She cut herself short suddenly, her eyes darting in Harry's direction. She gave Snape a meaningful look. "I will find you when I know more."

Snape held the door open for her, giving her a curt nod as she passed. He shut the door as soon as she was through, casting a spell with a tap of his wand against the wood, and then turning slowly around, drawing in a long breath.

"That's one more," Lupin said quietly.

"Yes," Snape said, exhaling slowly. "How do you feel?"

"Rather well, actually," Lupin said. "Molly's right, but compared to earlier..."

"Right," Snape said, pushing away from the door with another deep breath. "Let me see for myself."

He stopped in front of the divan and picked up Lupin's arm by the wrist. He brought the tip of his wand down to touch first the wrist and then the back of Lupin's hand, frowning slightly. After a few moments he nodded. "You can drink the remainder of the potion, but I want you to rest."

"I feel --"

"Don't start, Lupin," Snape said shortly, dropping Lupin's hand like it had burned him. "I'm not in the mood to either argue with you or to watch that you don't set yourself back. I'll find it a lot easier to focus on what needs to be done if I don't have to worry about you on top of everything else."

Lupin's mouth snapped shut. A spot of red appeared on each cheek, and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed silent.

Snape sniffed derisively, but there was a bit of contrition in his expression, like he hadn't meant to snap at Lupin quite that harshly. "I will be more inclined to believe that you're better when you aren't burning up with fever."

"I'm hardly burning up."

"You have a fever. I don't have time to discuss this."

"Then don't."

Looking irritated, Snape turned and stalked over to the potions cabinet, taking out several bottles and vials. He glanced at Lupin only once, apparently decided it was useless to say anything, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Harry, who had watched everything silently from a corner between a large bookshelf and the bathroom door, stepped forward cautiously.

"Er..."

"Oh, Harry," Lupin said, looking at him like he only just remembered he was there. "Are you all right?"

"I... think so."

The truth was, he wasn't exactly sure. His mind was whirling at mad speed, trying to make sense of everything he had been allowed to overhear. He was starting to feel a headache coming on; a dull pounding in his temples.

"We won't need those. You can just put them back."

Harry looked down at the stack of towels he still held. They had become rather unraveled and wrinkled, being squashed so tightly to his chest. "Oh. Okay."

"Put them in with the laundry," Snape said, barely glancing at Harry as he stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He walked over to the potions cabinet and rummaged through it, taking out several more bottles. "I will be back shortly," he said to Lupin. "Do you need anything from your office?"

"No."

"Kitchen?"

"I'm capable of summoning food myself," Lupin said, in contradiction of the earlier incident with the Marauder's Map. "But thank you."

Snape paused, frowning.

"We're fine here, Severus. Just do what you need to."

Snape's mouth thinned, but he only nodded. The door swung open before he even reached it, and then shut behind him.

The silence after Snape's exit was oppressive. Harry glanced at Lupin, but Lupin was looking away from him, turning his wand over absently in his hands.

Harry backed away quietly until he was in the bathroom again. He dropped the rumpled towels into the hamper and leaned both hands on the cold counter, staring into an ancient, slightly warped mirror.

His black eyes had dark circles under them, like he hadn't slept in days.

Which, funnily enough, was exactly how he felt.