A twenty-three-year-old, auburn colored hair matted and reaching halfway down his back, cowered under a cardboard box in a London alley. Pale green eyes watched heavy rain come down outside and uneasily watched the growing damp spot on the top of his shelter. If the rain did not lessen, his so-called “shelter” would turn into nothing but mush.

The man tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, locking his right hand about his left wrist. He rested his chin between his knees, one of which was showing through a large hole in his patched and very battered looking jeans.

He glared out of the alley at what had once been his home.

It had been an ancient wooden building, rickety and already falling apart. Sparrows had captured the eaves and sometimes hopped along the rafters inside. The windows had been boarded up.

But it had been home.

No longer.

The building no longer stood. Not for a year now. A year today, on this most dreary of mornings.

And it was all because of him.

“Potter,” growled the man, his voice dark, deep, and menacing.

But not as menacing as Potter’s had been that night.

He’d looked like some demon with those all-black eyes. And he’d killed Argil. Right after the man had killed Tyls.

But he’d let him go.

God, why had he listened to Argil? He’d hated the man for years.

And Harry… Heh.

Harry he loved like a brother.

After all, hadn’t he, at nine – oh so innocent nine, found the boy in an alleyway, naught but a baby then? Left alone, in the rain.

Argil had almost not taken him in. They’d had two three-year-old’s then – Mara and Etar they’d been called.

But Lyra, beautiful Lyra begged Argil, told him she would care for Harry.

He relented.

Harry stayed.

And he had loved Harry liked a brother.

Abram Baxter sighed and closed his eyes as a drop of rain finally made it through his cardboard shelter and spattered onto his head.

He then looked up, saw two figures, hooded and cloaked…and the rain did not touch them.

One was short, pudgy looking, not a threat as Abram saw it. But the other one…the other one was tall and thin…menace and hate flowed about him like armor.

And now they stood by the ruin of his home.

“You are certain this is the place, Wormtail?” said the taller in a commanding yet bored tone. “I would hate it not to be.”

The shorter one nodded furiously – he didn’t speak.

Odd, thought Abram.

“I hope you are correct, for you sake then. Else…well, we shall see, shall we not?”

The short one nodded again.

Abram then watched as the taller pulled out…a stick?…and flicked it at the rubble of his once home.

He then began to speak in a strange language.

“Chod i fyny 'r farw , 'r burnt , 'r 'n lladdedig! Chyrch 'u i fyny , at bod chrynswth ail!”

“What?” breathed Abram as a golden-red stream of dust spiraled out of the stick and settled on the ruins. He looked from one cloaked figure to the other, wondering what on earth they were doing.

The sparkling dust motes multiplied and covered the burnt boards of the ruin so much that it shone like a sun, the falling rain becoming droplets of fine crystal.

Then the motes dimmed and some of the boards began to shake, just rocking back and forth at first then violently. And more joined them.

Abram’s eyes widened at this and he pressed himself back as far as he could into his “shelter”. He didn’t know who these people were but the taller one…the taller one had that same menacing presence around him that he had felt around Harry when Argil had murdered Tyls. And he had been a conspirator.

As he watched, something flew up out of the boards. Something burnt and black. It flew forward and hovered to the left of the taller figure, the one with the stick. More burnt…pieces…flew up and they began to form –

A body, Abram realized with a shock.

Then another…body…began to form, to the right.

And Abram couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He was seeing this…this…thing reform the bodies of Argil and Tyls!

But why?

The bodies formed, fully, still burnt and blackened. The dust motes faded and the taller peered at first the left, then the right.

“Hmm,” he said, then tapped first the left then the right with his “stick”.

Quite suddenly the bodies were no longer burnt. They were as whole as they’d been before the building had burned. And both of their wounds were gone.

“You gathered this information, Wormtail. Which is the one I want? Tell me quickly or I shall find fault with your presence.”

The shorter man leapt into action, pointing a shimmering silver hand at Tyls floating body.

“Very good, Wormtail. Very good. Now go get the Muggle watching us from that alley while I finish this.”

Abram’s eyes widened as the shorter one turned and began to come towards him. Fear, white-hot and rabid as a fox, leapt up and adrenaline coursed through him. He turned, punched through the sodden cardboard, and took off running as fast as he could.

“STUPEFY!”

A beam of red light shot past him and Abram dodged it with an agility born of racing through crowds from police. His heart hammered against his ribs and he slipped in a puddle as he turned to race out of the alley. As he ran, he heard a vice bellow, “CRUCIO!” followed by screams.

Abram ran two alleys down, ducked into a rickety old building, and raced up the battered staircase to the top floor. There he peered out a shattered window down the street to where the shorter figure, Wormtail, was rolling on the ground in pain. The taller flicked his “stick” and Wormtail was thrown across the street into a building, sliding down the wall and lay there, sobbing.

The taller said something then turned back to the two floating bodies. He pointed his “stick” at Argil and the man’s body disintegrated. Then he turned his attention on Tyls.

Abram could hear the strange language again, chanted over and over this time, growing louder with each chant.

“Chyrch buchedd chan addoed. Anrhega chryfder bacia at aelodau cerddedig at daenu llwch. Anrhega anadl at chorff cerddedig at braena. Anrhega buchedd at hon farw beth a caethiwa 'i ewyllysia ata!”

What the hell? thought Abram as a beam of dark purple or black shot out of the “stick” and enveloped Tyls’ body. Blue lightning flashed in the purple and above them the heavens seem to roil with anger as the ash gray clouds that had poured down rain turned the color of charcoal and white lightning lashed down.

It was as though the world itself knew what was happening and opposed it.

And then it was over.

Abram looked down at the street below him and saw a figure, a naked boy of fifteen crouched on the ground, the rain falling upon him. The tall figure removed their cloak, revealing a face that made Abram’s stomach twist in revulsion. It was a face but it wasn’t a face! No human could have that face!

The…the…creature wrapped the teen in the cloak and lifted him to his feet, which appeared to be unsteady. He laid one long-fingered, pale hand on the chin and pulled it up.

Abram gasped.

It was Tyls. Tyls in the flesh. His sandy hair was as matted and untamable as it had been before that night but his eyes – black and full of mischief before – had changed.

Now they were dark purple like that light had been and veined with blue lightning.

Harry, thought Abram instantly. Harry will know. I know he will. I don’t know how, but I do.

Abram took one last look at Tyls, cloaked in the snake-faced man’s cloak, then ran. Ran from the building, ran from the slums.

Ran to find perhaps the only person who could tell him what the hell was going on.

“Harry.  Harry!  Harry!”

“Ron!  Stop bellowing!”

“Gin, have you seen Harry?  He’s not upstairs.”

“Yes, he’s outside in the yard.  And he’s asleep, so don’t you dare go disturb him!  Slytherin knows he needs the rest.”

Ron looked down the stairs at his sister, who had come to remind him of a cross between their mother and Niamh, the blue-eyed wrath of a Slytherin half the school was afraid of.  God knew, the world need the combination of the Weasley temper and stubbornness and the O’Feir…oh, who knew what to call what Niamh was?

“Okay, okay.  I was just wondering where he was.”

Ginny sighed and said, “Well, now you know.”  She then peered up the stairs, hearing movement above them.  “And now you’ve woken up Percy!”

Percy came down to the first landing and peered down at them, his hair flying all over his face, his dressing robe askew, and his glasses dangling in one hand.

“Ron.”

“Percy,” said Ron back in the same stern tone.

“What were you doing?”

“Yelling for Harry.”

“JUST GO LOOKING FOR HIM NEXT TIME!”

With that Percy stormed back up the stairs and Ron stared after him.

“What crawled up his back?”

Ginny scowled at her brother and snapped, “You know he’s still twitchy about Crouch.  And I don’t blame him!”

“Okay.  No more yelling.”

< Please, > said a voice in both of their heads.

There was a soft thump as a rather ruffled looking raven flew in through the kitchen window and landed on the table.  Jardin looked at the two of them and said, < You two are rather loud when you’re arguing.  Woke me up from a good sound sleep.  I’m surprised you didn’t wake Harry.  Then again, he’s always slept like the dead. >

“Oh, don’t refer to the dead,” said Ginny.  “We had enough of that last year.”

< And I daresay we will this year too. >

“Do you have to be so negative?” asked Ron, coming down the rest of the stairs and leaning against the doorframe that lead into the kitchen.

< No.  But I enjoy it. >

“Merlin, you sound like Snape.”

“Hey!” said Ginny, hitting her brother lightly in the stomach.  “Professor Snape is not that bad.”

“Not to you lot.  You’re a Slyth, Gin.  I’m a ‘lowly Gryffindor with no brains’.”

“Well I can agree with the lowly…”

“Why you…  c’mere…”

“No, Ron, not…oh…ooo! – Ron…no…Ron, c’mon! – ah!”

Ginny was helpless.  Only her brother’s knew she was ticklish and they were the only one’s who had enough clout to do such a thing.

But only away from Hogwarts when she couldn’t do magic.  If they’d tried it there, she’d had turned their head into an donkey’s.

“Oh!  Ron…ah…let me…ooo…ooo….GO!”

“How anyone sleeps around here, I shall never know.”

Ron and Ginny looked up and saw Harry standing in the doorway that led from the yard outside into the kitchen.  He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his green eyes shining with amusement and a smile twitching at his lips.

“Hey, Harry,” said Ginny.  “Did we wake you?”

“The two of you could wake a herd of elephants.  But no…I woke up on my own.”

Ginny and Ron recognized that tone.  They’d heard it constantly over the last few weeks Harry had been staying with them.

Almost every night, the dark-haired teen had been awoken by horrible dreams.  They all knew it and he knew they knew it, but they never said anything.

So the two of them knew that their friend was hiding it from them.

Ron released Ginny, who straightened and gave her brother a shove backwards.  He stumbled and barely caught himself on the doorframe; causing Harry to say, “Tread carefully near one of the Slytherin Four, Ron.”

The ginger-haired boy pulled himself back up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking from his sister to his friend.

“You’re telling me.  Did you have another dream?”

Harry’s expression instantly darkened and Ron wished he hadn’t said anything.  The look reminded him of when he’d blown up at Harry when he’d told all of them who his father really was.

“That’s none of your business,” snapped the Potion Master’s son, and with a sharp glare to rival one of his father’s, disappeared outside again.  Ginny looked after him then punched her brother in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You idiot!” hissed the girl.  “Why did you say anything?  You know damn well he doesn’t want to talk about that!”

“Virginia Weasley!”

Ginny turned and immediately the fight went out of her stance.  She ducked her head and mumbled, “Sorry, Mum.”

“Just don’t use that language in my house, young lady,” said Mrs. Weasley as she came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.  “Good morning, Jardin,” she said to the raven as she saw the bleary-eyed bird standing on the table.

< Good morning to you as well, Molly. >

“How come you call people by their first names?” asked Ginny to the bird.

“Because he’s four hundred and four years old,” said Mrs. Weasley, “and can do such things.  Now go amuse yourselves.”  She peered out the window and added, “What on earth is Harry doing now?”

Ron and Ginny bounded to the door and peered out into the yard.  Harry was stalking towards a bush, arms away from his body, fingers spread wide.  He paused for a moment then he lunged into the bush.  There seemed to be a small to-do but then Harry scrambled backwards, a gnome held upside down in one hand.  He grinned in success then stood and swung the creature about, letting it fly over the garden wall.

“A good throw,” remarked Mrs. Weasley, then jabbed her wand at her children.  “Out!  Or no breakfast!”

“Yes, Mum,” chorused two voices and they opened the door, heading out into the yard.

Harry turned his head towards them, eyes glinting darkly for a moment then he smiled and said, “Good throw, eh?  Hed said there was a gnome in here somewhere.”

Ginny smiled at her friend and fellow Housemate and said, “Great throw, Harry.”

“Yeah,” echoed Ron.

Harry looked at his two friends for a moment then looked up at the almost cloudless sky.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you guys.  I just…lost my temper.”

“S’alright, Harry,” said Ginny.  “You’ve lost your temper before.”

“Too right,” said Ron, who been under the brunt of Harry’s temper before.

“Still, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Why don’t we just let it go and do something?” asked Ginny.

“Quidditch?” suggested Ron.

Harry’s eyes lit up and he smirked.

“We can wake up Fred and George.”

“That gives us five.”

“Bill’s still here,” said Ginny.

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Harry.  “Let’s go give ‘em some wake-up calls.  Niamh style.”

Ginny giggled and Ron asked, “What’s ‘Niamh style’?” as they headed back towards the Burrow.

“Oh,” said Harry, a glint in his emerald eyes, “its rather simple.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

“Well, what is it?” asked Ron.

“You’ll see,” replied Harry cryptically then vanished into the kitchen and up the stairs.  Ginny grinned at her brother then ran after him.  Ron blinked for a moment then charged after them.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Now what?”

“Who wants to do the honors?”

“I still don’t know what we’re doing!”

“Hush, Ron!  You’ll wake them!”

“Why don’t we each take one?  Gin, you can get Fred, and I’ll take George, and we can show Ron what to do so he can wake up Bill.”

“’Kay.”

“One – two – three!”

Ginny and Harry both leapt upon the end of the twins beds at the same time, each yelling out the respective twins name.

“FRED!”

“GEORGE!”

“AHHHH!”

“AHHHH!”

Fred and George leapt out of their beds; both were clad in nothing but boxers and ran towards the center of the room.  They ploughed into each other in their confusion and both fell to the floor.

Harry and Ginny sat on the beds, laughing hysterically, while Ron stood in the doorway grinning widely.

The twins looked up, saw them, and glared.  They then looked at each other.

“Well, Fred, it seems we’ve been had.”

“Yes, it does, George.  Should we plan revenge?”

“I think we should.  What shall we do?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“Until you do,” said Ginny with a wry smile, “come play Quidditch with us.  Three on three.”

“Don’t tell me your getting Percy,” gasped Fred.

“No.  Bill,” said Harry.  “Ron’s got the job of waking him up.  Get on Ron.  We’ll wait right here.”

Ron paled.

“He’s gonna hex my ears to my ankles!”

“That’ll be interesting,” said George.

“George!”

“What?”

Ron sighed and headed upstairs.  As he did, Ginny looked at Harry and asked, “Should we go after him?  Just incase?”

“What’re we going to do?  Throw ourselves in front of the hex?”

“Well…”

“Right.”

A few minutes later…

“RON!”

“THEY MADE ME DO IT!”

Ron came dashing down the stairs and leapt into the room, hiding behind Harry.  Bill appeared in the doorway a moment later, wand out, ginger hair disheveled and hanging loose about his face.  He narrowed his eyes at those inside and growled, “What.  Do.  You.  Want?”

“Quidditch,” said Fred.

“Three on three,” said George.

“Such fun it’ll be.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Bill looked at the five of them for a moment then shook his head, lowering his wand.  He gave a short laugh and said, “You lot woke me up for that?”

The five nodded.

“Alright.  Give me a minute and I’ll be right down.”

“Yay!” said Ginny, dashing out of the room past her eldest brother and upstairs to her room.  Bill sent an amused glance at those left in the room then began to climb the stairs.

Harry looked at the twins and said, “We’ll just leave you two to get dressed.  C’mon, Ron.”

He rose and left and Ron followed.  They ran up the stairs to Ron’s room to grab their brooms.  Harry dug his Firebolt out of his trunk while Ron took an old, battered Cleansweep from the corner.

“Ready?”

“Yep,” said Harry, closing his trunk.

As they headed back down, Percy poked his head out the door and said in dismay, “Quidditch?  Now?”

“Some people actually have free time, Percy!” yelled Ron over his shoulder.

Downstairs, Ginny was wolfing down breakfast.  On the windowsill, Jardin pecked at a piece of toast.  Mrs. Weasley, upon seeing the two boys, pointed her wand at the table and said, “Sit.  Breakfast first, then Quidditch.”

“Aw, Mum…” began Ron.

“Sit.  As long as you’re in my house, Ronald William Weasley, you will eat breakfast before you play Quidditch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That goes for you too, Harry.”

“Never had a doubt of it, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry with a wry smile as he sat down.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him then levitated two plates over to the table.

“There.  Eat.  And where are…”

Fred and George suddenly zipped into the kitchen and each stole a piece of toast from a plate on the counter.

“Can’t stay, Mum.”

“Things to do.”

“Places to see.”

“And all that rot.”

With that they zipped out the kitchen door into the yard, leaving Mrs. Weasley to bellow out the window after them, startling several sparrows in a tree into flight.

“FREDERICK JESAP WEASLEY AND GEORGE SAMUEL WEASLEY!!  GET BACK IN THIS KITCHEN!!”

“I don’t think they heard you, Mum,” said Bill as he came down the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and sighed heavily.  She said, “I don’t know why I bother.  Here.”  She thrust a plate at him.  “Eat.  Then go.  And tell off those two rascals for me.”

“Of course.”

“DONE!” said Ginny and dashed out the door, an old Cleansweep like Ron’s in her hands.

Mrs. Weasley peered after her then looked at the three still sitting at the table.  She sighed again then looked at Harry and said, “Harry, dear, isn’t your birthday in a few days?”

Harry blinked and counted the days.  His birthday had come before he’d known it and that meant…

That meant the day Tyls had died was coming around two.  That had been four days before his birthday.

“What day is it today?” he asked suddenly.

“The twenty-seven…Harry, dear, what’s wrong?”

Harry went pale.  Today…today was the day he, his father, and Niamh had gone to Diagon Alley.  That fateful day when he and Niamh had gone out into London and Tyls had stolen Niamh’s wallet, the event that had started that whole chain of events.

Today was the anniversary of Tyls’ death.

And today was the anniversary of the day Harry had killed Argil.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and he flinched away.

Mrs. Weasley frowned and squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Harry, dear, is something wrong?  You went as pale as death.”

“No,” said Harry softly, then more firmly.  “No.  Nothing’s wrong, Mrs. Weasley.”

He added softly, “Nothing’s wrong at all.”

“Harry, are you okay?” asked Ron as they headed out into the yard.  “You look like you found out You-Know-Who was your dad.”

Harry gave his friend an odd look then began to laugh.

“Oh, I assure you, if that were true, I’d have killed myself!  Merlin, that’s a horrid thought.”

Ron snorted and said, “Most people would think Snape being their father would be a horrid thought.”

“I,” said Harry with a wry grin, “am the exception.”

“That’s because you don’t have to think about it,” said Bill from behind them.  “It’s true.”

All of the Weasley’s had now been informed of Harry’s real parentage, which made the teen slightly nervous, though he didn’t acknowledge it.  The fact that more and more people were finding out was making him slightly nervous.

Especially with Voldemort back in power.

“World to Harry.  World to Harry, come in Harry.”

“Eh?”

Ginny frowned up at him and said, “You okay?”

Harry gave a little shake and nodded.

“Yeah.  I’m good, Gin.  C’mon, let’s play.”

Bill took charge very quickly after that.

“Okay…I suppose I’ll be captain of one team and – Harry, you want to give it a go?”

Harry looked surprised at the offer then shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

“That’s settled then!  I pick Fred.”

“Ginny.”

“Ron.”

“George.”

“Right.”  Bill drew his wand and waved it around the yard.  Two trees at either end became goalposts and acorns off the ground became the Snitch, Quaffle, and Bludger.  He ducked the Bludger as it swooped past him then hefted the Quaffle in his left hand.  “Okay, Fred and George will be the Beaters, Ron and…”

“Ginny can be Seekers and you and me can be Chasers,” finished Harry.

All of them looked at him in surprise and he scowled at them, snapping, “What?”

“Nothing,” chorused everyone else.

Harry narrowed his eyes at them then shook his head and said, “Let’s play.  Bill, we need a scoreboard.  And Keepers.”

Bill flicked his wand at another tree, which transfigured into a scoreboard complete with floating chalk ready to take down score.  He said, “You and me can double for Keepers.”

Ginny whooped and yelled, “Let’s play!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

After five different games, Harry’s team had won three of the five games, making them the all over winners.  As they headed back inside after Bill had transfigured everything back to normal, Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder and said, “Maybe you should try out for Chaser instead of Seeker, Harry.  You could kill a Keeper with those throws.”

“Thanks, Fred,” said Harry, “but everyone in Serpens would kill me if I didn’t play Seeker.”

“You mean they’d try,” said Ginny with a grin.

“Yeah,” echoed Ron.  “They’d have a hard time getting past Niamh.”

“Or me!”

“Or Mika,” finished George.

“Well, there’s that,” said Fred.

Harry laughed as they entered the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley ordered them all to dinner.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

That night, Harry twisted and turned in the cot that had been set up in Ron’s room for him.  Sweat beads broke out on his forehead, plastering his bangs to his head.  His nimble fingers grasped the blanket and clenched it as he twisted again in the throes of the dream.

Across the room, Ron did not stir.

But on the floor, a little black ball lying on a spare pillow uncurled, lifting a head and blinking black eyes at the bed above her.  Hedwig flicked out her gray tongue and blinked again when she tasted the sweat and fear on the air.

And it was coming from the boy who had very swiftly become her master – which was how she thought of him.

“Harry,” she hissed to the cot far above her head.  When there was no response, she hissed louder.  “Harry.”

“Harry!”

That didn’t work.  Harry was still trapped within the dream.  Hedwig hissed a curse she’d heard her master use then looked around the room.  Her eyes focused on the cot’s legs and she moved forward, sliding off the pillow onto the floor.  She slithered towards the cot legs and began to slowly, but assuredly, wind her way up one very carefully.

Once she reached the top, she poked her head over. Harry’s face turned towards her and she saw his eyes were clenched tightly and his teeth were bared.  By now his pillow and blanket were soaked in sweat and his short hair was plastered to his head.  The snake flicked her tongue out again then pushed herself up onto the cot.  She carefully crawled closer to the tossing teen, not ready to be crushed so early in her life.

“Harry,” she hissed.

No response, only a hiss of breath let out through clenched teeth.

“Harry!”

Still nothing.

Hedwig, angry now, cast aside all fear of being crushed and moved forward so that she was right below Harry’s ear.

“HARRY!”

“NO!” screamed the teen, sitting up so fast that Hedwig slithered back.  She hadn’t expected that bad of a response!

“Harry,” she hissed, looking up at him, hearing his gasps.  “Are you okay?”

The teen’s body jerked, muscles going taught, and he turned wide green eyes to look at her.  He then relaxed and fell back onto the bed, eyes closing as his head hit the pillow.

“Oh, gods, Hed.  Its you.”

“Only me.  What happened?”

“A dream,” said Harry back to the snake.  He then frowned and corrected, “No.  A nightmare.”

“About what?”

“You remember that day in London last year?”

Hedwig seemed to frown then said, “Yes.”

“That’s what.”

“A day in London does not cause dreams like that.”

“Hed, can we not talk about it?”

The garden snake fixed him with a glare that Harry swore was his father’s and hissed, “You will tell me or I’ll bite you.  Poisonous or not, I AM dangerous.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I have no doubt, Hed.  No doubt at all.  But…”

“But what?”

“Its not something I want to talk about.”

“I see.  Who knows of this incident?  Or should I say, the entirety of this incident that I know nothing about and you seem unwilling to tell?”

“Where in Slytherin’s name do you learn such words?”

“Places.  Now talk.”

Harry sighed.

“Niamh knows.  Well, she knows part of it.  And Da.  He knows…he’s the one that found me.”

“Found you?”

“After,” Harry paused, “after it happened.”

“What?” pressed Hedwig.

“AFTER I KILLED ARGIL!  HAPPY NOW?  ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT YOU KNOW?  I’M A MURDERER, HED!  I’M AS FUCKING EVIL AS VOLDEMORT!”

Hedwig looked a little taken aback by this.  Harry just glared at the ceiling after this outburst, one arm thrown up onto the pillow.

“You killed someone.”

“Yes.  God, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he killed my BEST FRIEND, DAMMIT!  My best friend.  He was the only other child Argil took in who was friendly to me.”  A sad look came into Harry’s eyes as he continued, “There was Lyra too.  But she’s long dead.”

“Dead?”

“Car crash.  I never knew what happened exactly.  Her and Ethan – they were the oldest – were out one night.  It was…hell, I can’t remember exactly when it was.  But they were dead before the sun rose.  The car was going too fast from what I heard.  I always thought…I always thought I’d been lied to, that they were still out there somewhere.  I was nine before I realized they were never coming back.”

“How old were you then?”

“Six.  I think.  Ethan was eighteen, Lyra seventeen.  She was the one who took care of me when they found me.  She told me once that Argil would have left me to die.  She saved my life that night.”

“You sound like you loved her.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, an image of a girl with white-blond hair turned dark blond by years on the streets and gray eyes that despite all could never be rid of their laughter or light flashing in his mind.

“I did.  I cried for days after she died.  She…she was the only – the only real – mother – I ever had.”

Hedwig looked sympathetically at her master and curled up by his neck.  Harry smiled slightly and picked her up, placing her on his chest, which was – as usual – bare except for the basilisk pendant Ginny had given him and his scars.  He left his hand there and Hedwig curled about it, her coils reassuring.

“I’ll never leave you.”

Harry frowned down at the snake for a moment then turned his head to look out the window at the stars.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Hed.  Lyra told me that once.  Look what happened to her.”

Hedwig blinked for a few moments then said, “Then I won’t promise.  But I’ll try.”

“Trying is good, Hed.  Its doing that’s hard.”

“I shall remember that.”

“Hmm,” said Harry.

A long moment passed before either of them said anything else.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not like Voldemort.”

Harry smiled bitterly and stroked the snake’s head with his thumb.

“I know, Hed.  I know.”

The next morning before anyone else had awoken, Jardin flew into the room upstairs and landed on the edge of Harry’s cot.  Hedwig, awoken by the soft thump the bird made, lifted her head from where it rested on Harry’s index finger.  She spotted him and flicked her tongue out angrily.

“Where were you?”

Jardin blinked at the snake’s tone.  He could fully understand her but he had not clue as to how she was to understand him.  So, instead of replying, he tilted his head, causing the snake to glare at him.

“Don’t look at me like an idiot!  You should have been here!”

Jardin blinked at her.

Hedwig hissed incoherently at him for a moment in anger then calmed down.

“Harry had a nightmare and you weren’t here!  It’s a grand thing to have wings, isn’t it?  Much easier to reach the cot!”

Jardin opened his beak in the raven’s version of a grin and spread a wing.

“Idiot!”

Hedwig shook her head at him.

“Did you know Harry had killed someone?”

That brought Jardin to attention.

< WHAT?! >

“Uhn…”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up on his elbows to peer sleepily at Hedwig and Jardin.

“What are you to arguing about?”

< She’s accusing me of not being here when you had a nightmare as though it’s a crime! >

“You could have done something about it!  You’re the one bonded to him, not me!”

< I couldn’t have done a thing but watched it play out! >

“You stupid, idiotic, pitiful excuse for a fowl!”

< Fowl?  FOWL!  HOW DARE YOU… >

“ENOUGH!” snapped Harry in Parseltongue and thought, eyes blazing.  As the two creatures stared at him, he grumbled, “I have a headache now from you two arguing.  Do you two even understand each other?”

< I understand her, > said Jardin helpfully.

“Stupid fowl,” muttered Hedwig.

Jardin fluffed his feathers angrily and growled, < You, my dear, are going to be my breakfast if you continue insulting me. >

JARDIN! snapped Harry.

< Tell her then! >

“Hed, stop insulting him.”

“Fine.”

Harry looked between the two creatures for a moment then collapsed back onto the cot with a moan.

“What a morning…”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Ni,

Well, it’s past that day.  Y’know, the day Tyls died.  I dreamed last night about it.  Not my best night.  Then again, not many nights since…since that last task have been pleasant.

Now Hed and Jar are in an uproar and fighting with each other.  And Hed can’t even understand Jardin.  It’s insane.  Especially with me hearing both of them.  I’m thinking of silencing Jardin.  I had to do that when I met Fawkes.  Y’know, Fawkes calls him a snapdragon?

Do you think you can manage to spend the last two weeks before term with your aunt?  The Weasley’s are great…but I miss spending time with you and Mik and Mione.

                                                Hope your well,

                                                            Harry

“Jardin,” said Harry as he finished writing the letter and rolled it up, tying it with a piece of stray thread from his shirt.  As he tied it, he looked at the shirt.  It was one of his older one’s and was beginning to get rather small.  And threadbare.

< Yes? > said Jardin, not looking away from the staring contest he and Hedwig were having.

“Stop having that staring contest with Hed and c’mere.”

< Why? >

Harry turned on the cot to glare at Jardin, who was perched on Ron’s trunk.

“Because I have a letter I want you to take to Niamh.”  When the raven did not move, he growled, “Now.”

< Alright, alright.  I’m coming. >

He flapped his wings and made a short flight to Harry’s offered arm.  The teen tied the letter to the raven’s leg one-handed then went to the window, opening it and giving the bird a toss into the air.  He watched him fly off then turned and scooped up Hedwig off of the edge of his cot and headed downstairs.

There he found Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Bill already in the kitchen.  As he turned to head into that room, his eye caught the grandfather clock.  The clock that had, instead of numbers, words.  And there was a hand for each of the Weasley’s.  Harry had never looked closely at the clock but now, for some reason, it caught his eye.  He switched directions and walked towards it, peering at the hands.

Fred, George, Percy, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Bill’s hands were all on Home; Mr. Weasley’s was on Work; Charlie’s was also on Work; and then Harry noticed that there were five extra hands besides the nine Weasley’s.

There was a hand for him, Niamh, Mika, Niamh, and – to his great surprise – his father.

Someone suddenly came up behind him and Harry looked over his shoulder to see Mrs. Weasley standing there, smiling at him.  She nodded at the clock and said, “I had Arthur take it and have those extra hands put on.  So I can know where all of you are.”

Harry looked at her for a moment then back at the clock.  His hand was also on Home; Niamh and Hermione’s were on London; Mika’s was on Scotland; and his father’s was on Hogwarts.

“You did this to keep track of us?”

Mrs. Weasley nodded and gave him a light hug.

“I did.  Now, come get some breakfast.  We’re going to Diagon Alley today.”

Harry smiled at that.  Now he could find Niamh something for her birthday…and Hermione and Mika.

And maybe for one day he could forget about his troubles.

“RON!  FRED!  GEORGE!  DOWNSTAIRS NOW!”

“Yes, Mum!” chorused three voices.

Mrs. Weasley huffed then looked at Harry and Ginny, who were chuckling.  She smirked at them and said, “Quiet you two rascals.  Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Good.  BOYS!”

“COMING!”

“Calm down, woman!”

“Yes, give us time!”

Mrs. Weasley scowled up the stairs then pulled back as Ron came tumbling down them, landing on his butt in the middle of the staircase.

“INCOMIIIIING!!!!”

“BONZAIIII!!”

Ron looked up in horror then ducked as Fred first, then George leapt over his head.  The twins landed on a rug, which skidded out from under them, sending both of them to the floor.

“Ow…”

“Ow…”

Mrs. Weasley strode forward, planted her hands on her hips, and stared down at the twins.

“Oh, hello.”

“Fine day for a fall, isn’t it?”

Ginny chortled at this, quickly covering her mouth, while Harry simply looked amused, his eyes dancing with laughter and a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head then tapped the twin’s heads with her right foot.

“Up!  And no more joking around.  We’re going after school supplies.”

“But our lists haven’t arrived!” said Ron as he got up off the floor wincing.

“Yes, they have,” said Mrs. Weasley, pulling five letters out of her pocket.  “I asked Minerva to send them early so we can get that done and…a few other things.”  Her blue eyes flicked to Harry and she winked at him, causing the teen to chuckle.  He knew she was talking about his birthday and didn’t want him to know it.

But then again, she was a Slytherin.  She knew that he knew that she knew about his birthday.

“Can we go now?” asked Ginny.

“As soon as your brothers get up off the floor.”

Ginny scowled at the twins and venomously barked, “Get your arses up off the floor or force me to seriously injure you!”

“Yes, Madam Vixen.”

“Of course, Madam Vixen.”

Ginny glared at them then turned and strode over to the fireplace where Mrs. Weasley was waiting with a small smile on her face.  Fred and George finally pulled themselves off of the floor as Mrs. Weasley threw a handful of Floo Powder in the grate.

Then they were gone.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Well, I think we’ve got everything.  Back to home, now.”

“To home we go!  To home we go!” began to sing the twins as they all headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, arms filled with packages.  As they entered and headed for the fireplace, Harry spoke.

“I need to get one more thing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him then turned back towards the back alley that led to Diagon Alley and Harry shook his head.

“Not there.  Out there.”  He jabbed his thumb towards the door leading out into Muggle London and Mrs. Weasley frowned.

“I don’t know…”

“Mum,” said Ginny, “Harry knows the streets better than all of us.”

“And I’m just going down the road a bit,” said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley looked skeptical.  She had been entrusted with the life of the son of one of her good friends and didn’t want to let him out of her sight.

Ron looked at his friend and asked, “Where are you going, Harry?”

“Music store,” replied the dark-haired teen.  “For Ni’s birthday.”

Mrs. Weasley frowned at him for a moment longer then said, “Go on then.  But hurry!”

“I will,” said Harry, setting his things down and heading out into the London traffic.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry was exiting the music store Niamh had raided the year before a few minutes later, a bag dangling from his hand.  He was grinning wryly as he thought about the surprise that would be on the girl’s face when he presented her with not only two CD’s but with the finished (and working) boom box.  It had taken him almost a year to get it to work, but he’d done it and he was damn proud of himself.

It also worked well to take his mind off other things – things he didn’t want to think about.

But, as generally happens in life, it wanted to torture him.

As he strode past an alley and started to turn to cross the road back to the Leaky Cauldron, an arm snaked out and grabbed his wrist tightly.

Harry dropped the bag, spun on a heel, grabbed the arm right where upper and lower arm joined, and twisted it hard to the right.  There was a satisfying crack of the shoulder popping out of place and Harry smiled slightly.  This idiot wouldn’t be messing with anyone for a long time.

“Harry,” croaked a familiar voice.

The dark-haired teen narrowed his eyes, trying to place it.  It suddenly clicked and he let out an animalistic snarl, throwing the person into a wall and holding them there.

“Nice to see you too,” croaked the person.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” snarled Harry, remembering the last time he had seen this person.

It had not been a happy day.

“Looking for you.”

Harry pressed his hand down on the dislocated shoulder, hearing a grunt of discomfort from the shadowed figure against the wall.  He growled, “Do you remember what I said I’d do if I saw you again?”

There was a pause then the person whispered in a pained voice, “You said you’d kill me.”

Harry smiled cruelly and pushed the shoulder back into place, earning a scream this time.  He took a step back, folded his arms across his chest, and glared venomously as the figure slid down the wall, right arm clutched to their chest.

“Then what the hell are you doing here, Baxter?”

Abram Baxter looked up at Harry, flinching under the younger boy’s glare.  It was rather comical.  A twenty-three-year-old cowering before a fourteen-year-old.

“I came looking for you.”

“You have a death wish?” asked Harry with an arch of an eyebrow.

“No.”

“Then what?  I have people waiting on me.  If I don’t get back soon, they’re going to come looking.  So talk fast before I leave.”

Pale green, pained eyes looked into fierce emerald green ones.

“Tyls is alive.”

Words cannot describe what went across Harry’s face at those words.  It was more than anger, more than rage.

The teen lunged at Abram and slung him around to his feet, shoving him hard against the opposite wall of the alley.  Abram’s face was no longer shadowed and it could be seen to have an expression of horror upon it.  Harry’s face was shadowed now and horrible in its expression.

And to Abram’s utmost horror, his eyes had turned that same pitch-black color as they had the night Tyls had died.

“Tyls is dead.  I watched him die.  He died in my arms because of you.  Because you helped that bastard of a man.”

“I’m…sorry,” gasped Abram.  “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

“Yet you did.  You did and it cost Tyls his life.”

“I didn’t know he was going to kill him!”

“Bull!” snarled Harry, eyes flashing.  “You knew he was capable of it!  He killed Nyv right in front of all of us!  And Cal and Leo!  You knew he never gave a damn about any of us, except that we kept money in his pockets and that he had the elder one’s to rape.”

“Alright!” yelled Abram.  “I did.  I did know.  I knew he’d kill him.  But I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“That maybe he wouldn’t.  But he did…”

“You’re as much of an idiot as I remember,” snarled Harry, shoving him backwards and turning away to leave.  “Run, Baxter.  Do it now or find yourself holding your arm instead of it being attached at your shoulder.

Abram pushed himself weakly away from the wall, watching the younger boy.  He had no doubt Harry would carry out that threat or something like it.  And he’d have taken it.  He deserved something.  He was half the cause of Tyls’ death.

“Maybe I should have just left you in that alley.”

Harry turned at the softly spoken words, his eyes green again but still blazing with anger.

“What did you say?” he growled.

“That maybe I should have left you in that alley,” repeated Abram.  “I’m the one that found you.  Lyra may have taken you in, but I found you.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?  Am I supposed to thank you for keeping me alive?  To be scarred by that creature?”

“You weren’t the only one hurt, Harry,” said Abram.

“No,” said Harry, ducking his head slightly.  His lifted his eyes to glare at Abram and continued, “But I got the worst.”

“Because you were the youngest.  Argil wanted to get rid of you.”

“Lyra told me.  Go away now, Abram.  Go back to whatever your life is now.”

“Living in a cardboard box,” said Abram sullenly, looking down at the ground and unaware that Harry was staring at him now.  “Well, not anymore.  The rain and that guy Wormtail took care of that.”

There was a hiss of breath and Harry spat, “What did you say?”

Abram looked up in surprise.

“About living in a cardboard box?”

“About Wormtail.”

“You know him?”

Harry let out a rattling breath between his bared teeth, eyes blazing.  He looked at Abram and snarled, “He was responsible for my mother’s death.”

“Holy shit…”

“Was there someone else there?”

“Yeah, some psycho with a snake face.  Harry?”

Harry felt like he’d been punched.  Wormtail and Voldemort.  The two of them.  Strolling about the slums of London, his old home.  What did that unholy duo have to do in the slums?

“What were they doing?”

“I told you,” snapped Abram, “they brought Tyls back.”

“There’s no way to bring someone back to life!” roared Harry.

“Well, it sure looked like it.”

“Were you drunk?”

“Fuck no!”

Harry gave him a skeptical look and Abram glared at him.

“I wasn’t drunk.  I don’t drink.”

“You tell that to Mara.  I remember that night.”

Abram winced.  He had been drunk once and Mara had gotten hurt for it.  She’d never been able to use her left arm fully after that night.

“I never meant…”

“Many people don’t mean for things to happen,” snapped Harry.  “They just happen.  You didn’t mean for Tyls to die.  I believe that.  But he did and I blame you for it.”

“You confronting Argil didn’t do him any good!”

“I was trying to save him!  More than you were doing!”

“It didn’t work, did it?”

“Oh, no.  Don’t you pin this on me.”

“I’m not,” snapped Abram.  He then shook his head and said, “I thought you’d believe me.  That Wormtail and the snake-faced man did something to Tyls.  And from the look on your face when I mentioned the snake-faced man, you know him.  And you’re afraid.”

Harry scowled.

“Go.”

“Why…”

“Get the fuck out of my sight!  Or I’ll kill you!  I swear on Tyls’ grave, I’ll kill you!”

Abram stared at the younger boy for a moment then turned and began to walk down the alley.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced over his shoulder to watch Harry pick up his bag and storm across the street.

“Hard to swear on his grave when he doesn’t have one.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry, are you okay?” asked Ginny as he stormed into the Leaky Cauldron, his expression telling wonders.

“Fine,” growled the teen, not looking at her.  “I got what I wanted.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him for a moment then said, “Alright, everyone, get your things.”  She tossed a handle of Floo powder into the fireplace then stepped through.

Harry was second in and by the time Ron and Ginny had emerged from the fireplace in the Burrow, he was already upstairs.  The two of them looked at each other but neither wanted to confront him.

The look he’d had on his face when he’d come back in the Cauldron told them that that would be a very bad idea.

One that might result in broken bones.

Harry,

I would ask you what exactly happened on that night, but I hope that one day you’ll just open up and tell me.  And I feel the same way about the dreams.  I…I keep having some bad one’s too.  Maybe we should owl Professor Snape about some Dreamless Sleep Potion.

^_^  I can hear them now.  Well, Jardin anyway.  But I’m sure it was funny, the two of them yelling at each other and one not understanding the other.  Not fun to you I see.  And SNAPDRAGON?  Oh, I’ll have to remember that one.  He’ll probably kill me for it, but I’ll die happy.

I can try.  My father is leaving for a month on business.  So I can ask Mum then call Aunt Maeve.  Maybe I can convince her to let Mione come with me.

                                                            Cha,

                                                            Ni

Harry folded Niamh’s letter and shoved it into his back pocket.  Jardin had been waiting for him when they’d returned from Diagon Alley.  The raven had sensed his mood and had simply handed over the letter then headed back outside.

Harry sighed and lay down on his cot, closing his eyes.

Abram had said Tyls was alive.

But that was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry would have to say that the birthday he spent at the Weasley was one of the best he ever had.  It was not only because he was with most of his friends but also because it took his mind off of what had happened a day earlier.

A present had arrived from nearly everyone he knew: Ron had given him a box of Bertie Bott’s beans; Ginny’s was a collection of Sugar Quills; Fred and George’s was a box of more prank things from them (what they’d managed to keep their mother from destroying); Hermione’s was a book as usual – Dueling Strategies.  Harry had to smirk at the book and shake his head; Mika had found another rare book, this one on hexes and curses instead of potions; Hagrid had sent a package of rock cakes (Harry winced); his father’s gift was a Sneak-o-scope, which caused Harry a pang of remembrance at last term; Sirius sent a necklace with a silver flower dangling from it – it had apparently belonged to Harry’s mother; even Bill, Charlie, and Percy had given him something – a leather duster.  As Harry stared at the jet-black coat, Bill leaned down and said in his ear, “We made Percy chip in.  He wanted to get you a book.”

Harry snorted and smiled at the eldest Weasley child.

It was one birthday he was never going to forget.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Two weeks before term…

Niamh arrived at the Burrow on a bright morning.  Harry and Ginny immediately rushed out to meet her as she got out of her aunt’s car, Ron following them at a slower pace.

As soon as the car pulled away, Ginny fell upon Niamh with all the fierceness of a tiger.  She hugged the older girl tightly, earning a pat on the back and a wry smile.

“Nice to see you too, Gin.”

“You too,” said Ginny, stepping back.  She then frowned at Niamh’s cheek and asked, “What’s that?”

Niamh put her hand over her left cheek, blue eyes wide.

“Its nothing.”

Harry stepped forward, reaching out a hand to pull hers away from her cheek.  He succeeded but Niamh turned her face away from him.  Harry grasped her chin and forced her head back around.  Ginny gasped.

A dark purple bruise covered Niamh’s cheekbone and it looked like her eye had been swollen at one point in time.

“What happened?” asked Ron as he saw the bruise.

“I – I ran into a door.”

Niamh looked up at Harry, who still cupped her chin in his hand.  He was looking at the bruise on her cheek with contempt.  Then his eyes locked with hers and she saw that he didn’t believe her.

“A door,” he said coldly.

“A door,” said Niamh, looking at him, her eyes begging him not to say anything.

“Humphf,” said the dark-haired teen and turned, striding across the lawn into the Burrow.

“What was that about?” asked Ron.  “He’s been acting more and more like Snape lately.”

“With good reason!” snapped Ginny.  She then hugged Niamh again and said, “C’mon.  Let’s go inside.”

“That’ll be nice,” said Niamh, allowing the younger girl to steer her inside, where Mrs. Weasley greeted her with a warm hug and a smile.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

That night after everyone in the Burrow was asleep, Niamh crept downstairs into the kitchen and went outside into the yard.  The moon waxed full in the dark sky above her and the stars twinkled like winking eyes.

Niamh sighed heavily and sat down underneath a tree, leaning back against the unyielding wood and closing her eyes.

“Nice night.”

The girl jumped at the voice and looked up to see Harry perched in a tree above her and to her left.  She watched as he swung down, landing on the grass in a crouch.  He rose and moved towards her, his footsteps silent from his years on the streets as a pickpocket.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked as he spread himself out on a patch of grass beside her, hands folded behind his head.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Niamh winced slightly, not knowing why, then turned away from him, leaning back against the tree.  There was a soft rustle and then cold, nimble fingers touched her bruised cheek.

She turned her head slightly, looking at Harry.  The boy had pushed himself up onto an elbow, his hand probing her cheek.  Then his emerald eyes met hers.

“You didn’t run into a door.”

It wasn’t a question.

Niamh sighed and said, “My father.”

“He hit you.”  Harry’s voice was cold.

“Yes…”

“How long?”

“A second.”

“No,” said Harry, cupping her chin in his hand and turning her face so she looked at him.  “How long has he been hitting you?”

Niamh’s eyes searched her friends face for a moment.  This was Harry, the first friend she’d discovered at Hogwarts.  He’d always been there for her.

So she poured out a scarred part of her soul to him.

“Since I got my letter.  He said - ”  She stopped, remembering.

Harry sat up, seeming to sense her worried thoughts.  He scooted close to her and wrapped an arm around her.  Niamh leaned her head against his shoulder and was reminded of when they’d sat like this during third year after the boggarts.  She took heart from his close presence, her mind touching his, sensing the patience there.  And the well-hidden fury.  It was a gift she had discovered over the summer.  She had been practicing with them, these gifts she had.  During the first few weeks she had concluded that she was telepathic (which explained how she could hear Jardin all the time except when he and Harry spoke privately; even then she could sense it) and empathic.  Though how she’d seen Cedric and Harry taking the Cup during the last task and then disappearing, she still didn’t know.

“ – he said he wouldn’t let me go.  He wouldn’t let me learn that – that – evil thing.  He called magic evil, Harry.  Evil.”

“Some people do that, Ni,” said Harry softly.  “He found out magic was real and he couldn’t take it.  He couldn’t understand it.  Some people can’t.  Just like they can’t see how people can live on the streets.”

Niamh turned to her friend and whispered, “Harry…”

“Shh,” said Harry, looking up at the stars.  Niamh looked up as well, wondering what was so entrancing to the boy beside her.

“I used to always watch the stars at night,” said Harry softly.  “Whenever they were out, I’d look at them.  They seemed…comforting in an odd way.”

He slowly looked down at her and whispered, “You won’t go back.”

Niamh looked at him in surprise, knowing what he was talking about.

“Harry, I have to…”

“Hell if you do.  I won’t see you hurt like that.  I’ll stand aside if its someone like Zabini, when you can defend yourself, but not when you can’t.”

“Harry…”

“No,” said Harry firmly, his expression stony.  Niamh could sense his emotions without reaching for them, which she tried not to do, considering that an invasion of privacy.  He was angry – fiercely so.  And he was afraid.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Harry looked at her in surprise then smiled.

“Yeah.  Yeah, you are.”

“What’re we going to do?  About my father…”

“We can tell Dumbledore when he get back to Hogwarts.  Maybe he can do something.  Get you and your mother out…”

“My mother wouldn’t survive two seconds without my father,” said Niamh.  “She’s just cowers.”

Harry looked at her for a moment the nodded slightly.

“Then with your aunt then.  She’d take you in, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.  After the Feast, we’ll go talk to Dumbledore.”

They sat in silence for a moment then Niamh leaned her head on her friend’s broad shoulder and whispered, “Thanks, mate.”

Harry hugged her and leaned his head against hers.

“Anything for you, Ni.”

“You all will be careful this year, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry and Niamh at the same time.  The two teens grinned at each other then at the older woman.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at them then hugged Harry, resting her head against his shoulder before she pulled back from him.  She looked up at him with a concerned look on her face.

“You will be especially careful, won’t you, Harry?”

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley.  Careful as a Slytherin may be.”

Ginny snorted and chortled, “We’re devious, not careful!”

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her daughter then looked at Harry.

“She had a point.”

Harry laughed and shrugged, saying, “Okay.  Then as careful as a half Gryffindor may be.”

Fred and George laughed as Ron said, “You’re just digging yourself into a hole, mate.”

“So quit while your ahead,” said Niamh with a grin and a touch to Harry’s shoulder.

The teen shrugged and said to Mrs. Weasley, “I’ll be careful.  I swear.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him then cried, “Oh!  Hurry now or you’ll miss the train!”

Harry, Ron, and Niamh all grinned at each other at that, remembering their second year.

“Goodbye, Mum!”

“See you at Christmas!”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley!”

“Well,” said Ginny as they walked through the barrier and headed towards the crimson train.  “Another year.”

< Another year of mischief, you mean, > said Jardin from his perch on top of Harry’s trunk.

“Only from them,” said Niamh, jabbing her thumb over her should at the twins.

“Didn’t we make a bet with them last year?” mused Harry.

“You did!” exclaimed Ron.  “You bet to see which pair of you could lose more points.”

“What were we thinking?” asked Niamh, shaking her head.

“I believe my exact words were ‘We’ve lost more points than you two have in three years’,” said Harry.

“Oh.  That bet.”

“Remember now?” asked Ginny.

“Yep.  Don’t think the twins do, though.”

Harry chuckled and said, almost to himself, “No.  No, I don’t think they do.”

He strode forward and clambered aboard the train, leaving Ron, Niamh, and Ginny to look at each other in confusion.  They then ran hurriedly after him.

“Hey, Harry, wait up!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry, Niamh, Ginny, and Ron managed to snag an empty compartment and relaxed in it.  Then Niamh leapt to her feet, eyes wide.

“Bloody hell!”

“What?” asked Ron.

“I can’t believe I forgot!” exclaimed Niamh, scrambling for her trunk.  Ginny pulled her legs up into the seat as the older girl dived under it.

“Forgot what?” asked Harry as Ginny peered down at Niamh’s head.

“Your…present,” replied the girl’s muffled voice.  She then crawled backwards, pulling her trunk after her.

“Present?” said Hermione as she opened the car door and entered.  “Hello all.”

“Yes,” grunted Niamh, giving a short wave as she settled back on her heels and snapped the locks on her trunk open.  “Harry’s.  I completely forgot about it with – well, everything.”  She looked over her shoulder at Harry as she said this, giving a half-smile.

Hermione settled into the empty space beside Ginny as Niamh pulled everything out of her trunk then pried up a board at the bottom.

“A hidden compartment?” said Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Niamh as she sat the board aside.  “Nosy parents, y’know.  So, when I found this trunk in our attic, I asked my cousin Donovin if he could build a little compartment into it.  He’s a master carpenter, my cousin.  He fixed it and I use it to hide everything important to me or that I don’t want my parents to find.”

“Like this,” she continued, holding up a wrapped packed triumphantly.  She handed it to Harry then replaced the board and began to throw everything back into her trunk.  With a flip of the locks, she shoved it back under the seat then sprang up into the seat beside Harry.

Grinning brightly, she cried, “Open it, open it!”

“Before she has a meltdown,” quipped Mika as he entered the cab, earning a friendly slap on the arm from Niamh.

“Shut it, you,” snapped the dark-haired girl without force.  Then, with force, to Harry, “Open it, damnit!”

“You keep pushing me and I’ll leave your Christmas present in the dungeons and buy you some socks,” growled Harry, mock glaring at the girl beside him as his fingers found where the wrapping paper overlapped and tore.

It was a picture frame.  Harry flipped it over and was surprised to see himself, Niamh, Ginny, Mika, Hermione, and Ron all in the picture.  It was from the end of the year before, just before they had left Hogwarts.  They were all sitting outside by the lake underneath the shade of a huge oak tree, the leaves of which were moving because it was a wizarding photograph.  All of them were laughing at some joke Ron had made, Ginny falling back onto a surprised Mika and Niamh totally on the ground, her head lying against Harry’s knee, who was also laughing uproariously.  Hermione was laughing behind her hand, her brown eyes dancing.

Harry turned to the girl beside him as the inhabitants of the photo waved at him.  He looked at her for a long moment before he said, “Thanks, Ni.”

Niamh smiled at him and said, “Your welcome, mate.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Here we are again,” sighed Ron as they climbed down out of the horseless carriage and look up at the looming castle once more.

“You sound disappointed,” said Niamh as she scrambled down, followed by Harry and Ginny.  “Were you expecting fireworks?  A parade, perhaps?”

“Is sarcasm an automatic Slytherin trait?” asked Ron.

“No,” said Mika as he exited the carriage, followed by Hermione.  “It’s a trait we picked up from Harry.”

“Ha ha,” said the dark-haired boy, rolling his eyes.  “C’mon.  If we don’t get inside we’ll miss the Sorting.”

“And the Feast!” cried Ron as they mounted the steps.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Niamh asked, “Do you always think of your stomach?”

“Yes.”

Hermione shook her head while Mika said, “Stupid question.  Right, Harry?  Harry?”

No answer came to Mika’s question and the five of them stopped, looking behind them.

Harry stood at the bottom of the stone steps, one foot on the first one and the other still on the grassy ground.  He was turned away from them, his face looking across the grounds to the barely visible Quidditch pitch.  A blast of wind ruffled his short hair and the five of them all felt as though he was completely out of their reach.  Almost like he was in another world.

“Harry?” said Niamh, moving down a step.

The boy at the bottom of the steps turned his face up towards her and other others.  Niamh swore that for a moment his eyes were flooded black before they snapped back to green.

“Are you okay?” asked Hermione in a worried voice.

“Fine,” replied Harry, taking the steps up in twos and threes.  “Let’s get inside.”

As he shoved past them to the great oak doors and disappeared inside, Mika said, “I’m beginning to get worried.”

“About what?” asked Ron.

“Harry.”

“He is acting strange,” said Ron.

“Wouldn’t you if you’d seen a friend murdered in front of your eyes?” snapped Niamh, blue eyes flashing as she turned sharply on her heel and banished after Harry.

“Well, I feel like an arse now,” said Ron.

< When don’t you? > said Jardin suddenly.  The raven flapped down from atop a gargoyle and landed on Ginny’s shoulder.

“I resent that!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed Ron’s arm, saying, “C’mon before we’re late.”  She dragged him inside, followed by Mika and Ginny.

“And first on our agenda today…ah, our very own Head of House.  What’ve you got, Gin?”

“McGonagall.”

“Ah.  Harry’s nemesis.  At least among the teachers.”

“Who is it among the students?” asked Mika, poking at his breakfast.

“Not Malfoy, that’s for sure,” growled Niamh.  “The bastard killed Hedwig and he’s chumming with him!”

“Forgive and forget, Ni,” said Mika, brushing his white hair back from his forehead.

Blue eyes met brown hard.

“Since when were you the voice of reason, Mik?”

“Since the rest of you all got horrible tempers,” quipped the boy as he finally picked up a biscuit and a piece of cheese.  “Where is our grand Lord Hex anyway?”

“Don’t ask me,” said Ginny.  “I don’t room with him.  Ni generally waked him up.”

“I tried,” said the other girl.  “He was already gone by the time I got into his dorm.  The two lumps shrieked at me again – like little girls – and I had to hex Zabini.  That twit can’t stop goggling at me anytime I enter a room.”

“I think he likes you,” said Mika with a wry grin.

Niamh looked revolted and muttered, “Merlin, the Founders, and God forbid.”

“You’d have to kill yourself, wouldn’t you?” said Ginny with a grin.

“Or kill him.  Whichever is easier.”

The three of them looked at each other then all said at the same time, “Kill him.”

“Oh, are we going to off someone today?”

Mika and Ginny looked up at Harry while Niamh craned her head back and peered at him upside down.

“Well.  Good morning, sunshine.  Where’ve you been?”

“Thinking on some things.  And who are you three planning to off today?”

“Zabini,” declared Mika.

“Oh, that’s a waster of effort.  Eventually Amanda will kill him.  He’s been badmouthing Neville.”

“That’ll bring him to a sticky end, no doubt,” said Ginny.

Harry nodded and sat down beside Niamh, reaching for the pitcher of orange juice.  As he poured it into a goblet, Ginny peered curiously at his face.

“Harry?”

“Mmm?” was the response around a forkful of eggs.

“Are you growing a beard?”

Niamh’s eyes flashed to her friends face and saw that there was indeed a vague shadow on his chin.

Harry swallowed the mouthful of eggs and replied, “No, Gin.  I’m growing a cat on my face.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose and snapped, “What crawled into your bed this morning?”

“Generally its O’Feir.”

Harry forked up another mouthful of eggs and didn’t look behind him as he said, “How dreadful to see you’re still alive, Zabini.  I was so certain Amanda was going to deprive us of the misery of seeing your ugly mug every morning.”

“How very smooth, Potter,” spat Blaise.  “And how is O’Feir, by the way?  Or did Diggory rack her first?”

Niamh had her wand out before anyone could blink but Harry acted far faster than that.  He had moved in a blur out of his seat and had thrown Blaise to the stone floor; his fist cocked back as the other gripped the boy’s shirt collar, a fierce glint in his eyes.

“Get the hell off of me, Potter!” screamed Blaise, shoving at Harry’s waist.

Harry looked coldly down at him, arm cocking back as it to punch downward, and everyone in the Hall held their breath.  Then Harry let go of Blaise and moved off of the other boy, crouching beside him.

“You’re not worth it, Zabini,” he said in a casual tone as if he hadn’t been about to punch the other boy a moment before.  “You’re not worth the bloodied knuckles.  And you’re certainly not worth getting a sure detention.

“But,” said Harry in a softer voice so only Blaise could hear, “if you ever say something nasty about Niamh or Cedric within my hearing again, I won’t hold back next time.”

With that he was gone, stalking out of the Great Hall.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Son of a bitch.  How dare he talk about Niamh and Cedric like that!”

“Don’t let him get to you,” hissed Hedwig.  “That’s what they’ve all been trying to do since the dragon became civil.”

Harry snorted then look down at the snake curled up on his bed oddly.

“Dragon?  You mean Draco?”

“Yes.  The dragon.”

Harry gave a little nod then remembered a conversation with the snake the year before.

“Hed?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“If Draco is the dragon, who is the fox?  The one you said you talked to?  I thought I was the only Parselmouth in the school.”

If it were possible for a snake to look nervous, Hedwig did now.

“Er,” she said.

“Who is it, Hed?”

“I can’t say!”

“Ah-hah,” said Harry slowly.  “Sworn to secrecy?”

Hedwig nodded slowly and the teen smiled.

“S’okay, Hed.  We all have secrets.”

“Some more than others.”

“Yeah.”

Harry sighed and pillowed his head on his arms as he rolled over onto his stomach, stretching out his right leg until his toes touch the headboard of the bed.  Hedwig look at him for a long moment as he did this then asked a question.

“Are you ever going to tell the others about Argil?”

Harry’s head came up and he snapped, “Why?”

“Because the memory weighs heavily on your heart.  Not healthy.”

Harry laughed.

“Hed, I’m surprised I’m still alive after my childhood.  I think I can handle something like - ”

“Murder?” spat Hedwig in an accusing tone.

Harry’s eyes flashed darkly and he spat, “He killed Tyls!  And then he tried to kill me!  Self-defense, Hed.”

“No witnesses.”

“Baxter.  And no one else was there.”  That suddenly made Harry remember when he had seen Abram before term had started.  And the gibberish the older boy had been spouting.  Man, actually, as Abram was over twenty.

“No guarantee he’s not as soon turn you in.”

Harry shook his head.

“No.  No, Abram, wouldn’t.  He – he found me.  He’s the one that kept me from dying in an alleyway, Hed.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Matters to him.  And it matters to me.  He saved me, Hed.  Maybe not from Argil, but from Death himself.”

The snake snorted and spat, “Still don’t trust him.”

Harry smiled and stroked the snake’s head affectionately.

“You don’t trust anyone but me after that incident with Fred and George.”

“Damn right!”

Harry laughed at that.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry was passing through the entrance hall later that day, alone and late to supper, with Hedwig in one of the inner pockets of his cloak, when he heard the knock.  It was a great booming noise that would have made anyone else jump and runaway in terror.

But Harry had stolen from hardened thugs, wrestled with gangs, and stood up to the cold fury of Argil (not to mention Voldemort four separate times).  All that knock did was make him halt in midstep and peer curiously at the great oaken doors.

There was another boom, louder, that made the doors shiver.

Another, louder still, that made the doors shake.

“What is that?” asked Hedwig, poking her triangular head out of the dark pocket.

“I don’t know,” replied Harry, tucking the snake back down into his pocket and took a few steps forward.

Whatever it was hit the oak doors with all the force of a battering ram and the doors not only shook.  They rattled.

Harry had just reached up his sleeve for his wand, the tips of his fingers touching the smooth holly just so, when there was a huge resounding band and the doors were thrown open, cracking loudly against the stones.  As this happened, an invisible force shot into the entranceway, the doors no longer there to stop it.  It struck Harry in the chest and threw him off of his feet.  He flew backwards, twisting in midair, trying to get his feet under him.

He didn’t make it.

Halfway around, Harry dropped.  Right onto the marble staircase.  He hit the tip of the steps on his right side – hard.  There were several audible snaps as he hit, followed by a sudden pain in his chest and right leg.  His head slammed against the marble at what seemed to be the speed of light, causing his teeth to rattle and his eyes to cross.

“Are you alright?” hissed Hedwig in a worried tone from her pocket.  “Harry, are you okay?  I heard bone break.”

Harry couldn’t answer.  His vision was going dark and already he couldn’t feel his leg.  But he managed to tilt his head and get a short glimpse at the blond-haired assailant before he blacked out.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Niamh knew something was wrong.  How she didn’t know, but she knew something was off in the castle and had felt so since lunch.

And generally when something was off in the castle, Harry was a part of it.

So Niamh rose and began to walk towards Snape, who was poking idly at his potato.

Just before she reached him, her senses were flooded with an intense pain.  It took her a moment to figure out whose pain it was and she gasped.

“Harry,” she whispered as Snape darted around the Head Table and knelt beside her.

“Miss O’Feir?”

Niamh looked up, teeth bared against the pain in her head, ribs, and leg.

“It’s Harry, sir.  He’s hurt.”

Snape’s eyes widened and he grabbed her shoulder, growling, “Where?”

“I…” began Niamh but was cut off by a blood-curling screech.  It wasn’t a student; it was Jardin.  The raven dove down into the Hall, his golden eyes bright.  He made a single round of the Hall then shot out the door into the entrance hall.  The moment he was gone, the pain Niamh felt dulled and she staggered to her feet, eyes wide as fear coursed through her.  That sudden lack of emotion was a bad sign.  She couldn’t sense Harry’s thoughts either.  Which meant he was…  No!  She wouldn’t think like that!

The dark-haired girl darted into the entrance hall and stopped dead in her tracks.  Standing in the middle of the open doorway was a person she’d never thought she’d see alive again.

Snape hurried around her and rushed up the marble stairs to where his son lay motionless.  He knelt, checked for a pulse, then yelled at a Prefect who had tailed him out of the Hall.

“Debbins!  Go get Madam Pomfrey!  Move, boy!”

Debbins gave a sharp nod and took off as other students crowded into the entrance hall to see what was going on as the teachers tried to herd them back.  Niamh stood stock still during all of this, staring at the unnoticed figure in the doorway.

Ginny and Mika suddenly appeared at Niamh’s side, Mika jostled into her by a second year.  Hermione and Ron, followed by Dumbledore, headed up the marble stairs to kneel down beside Harry.

Madam Pomfrey appeared then, Debbins trailing behind her.  When she saw Harry’s still form, she immediately charged up the steps and took charge of him, carefully levitating him then bustling off.  Hermione followed as Ron headed back down the steps and shoved his way over to where Mika and Ginny stood around Niamh.

“What happened?” he asked the dark-haired girl.  Getting no response, he followed her gaze and added, “And who is that?”

Snape and Dumbledore were beside them now and McGonagall and Flitwick flanked them.

“Tyls,” whispered Niamh, eyes wide.  “It’s Tyls.”

The tall, lanky, blond-haired boy stepped forward, dark brown eyes on Niamh

“’Lo, Little Niamh,” he said.

Immediately after that Niamh faint dead away into Ron and Mika’s arms.

“Is he going to be alright?” asked Ginny to Madam Pomfrey.  She, Mika, Ron, Snape, Hermione, and Dumbledore were all in the Hospital Wing.  McGonagall had taken the boy Niamh had called Tyls to Dumbledore’s office and was holding him there while the rest of them waited for an assessment of Harry’s wounds.

Madam Pomfrey nodded but there was a sad look in her eyes that only Mika caught.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” he said.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a sad look then turned to address all of them.

“Harry must have fallen down the steps.  Or perhaps if that boy used some charm to open the doors, Harry was hit by it.  His left leg was broken but it was only a small fracture and is healing nicely.  A few ribs were snapped as well and very nearly punctured his lung but didn’t, thank Merlin.  His head is an entirely different matter…”

“What do you mean, Poppy?” said Dumbledore.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and said, “He must have hit the marble pretty hard.  There was a compound fracture in his skull but it is slowly healing with help.”  She took a deep breath and added something that made everyone in the room gasp.

“He’s also in a coma.”

“A coma!” bellowed Ron in disbelief.

Madam Pomfrey nodded solemnly and Hermione let out a sob into Ron’s shoulder, who hugged her.

“For how long?” croaked Severus, his dark eyes on the pale, still form of his son.

“I don’t know,” admitted Madam Pomfrey.  “You never know with coma victims.  It could be a few days, a week – months.”

“Months!” cried Ginny in a half-shriek.  Mika placed a restrained hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him off.

Madam Pomfrey nodded and looked at Harry.

“Maybe even more.”

“Oh God,” gasped Severus, sinking into a chair.  He looked up at Madam Pomfrey and asked, “Could he…could he die?”

“It is possible.”  Gasps went up.  “But doubtable (sighs filled the room).  Harry is a very strong-willed boy.  I have no doubt that he will come back to us.”

Five voices sighed in relief as a sixth said, “We can do nothing more here.  I suggest that the four of you return to your dorms and get some rest.  Severus, would you come with me?  Poppy, you will call me immediately if there is any change in Harry’s condition.”

“Of course, Albus.”

Dumbledore nodded and left the infirmary followed reluctantly by Snape, who cast one very open, sad look at his son before his mask slid over his face and he was gone.  Ron pulled Hermione away and led her out of the room, his expression worried and taught.

Mika and Ginny stood alone by Harry’s bed now, as Madam Pomfrey had disappeared into her office.  The redhead suddenly burst into tears and threw herself into Mika’s arms.  The white-haired boy hugged her close, his dark eyes focused on the still form of their friend.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry felt like he was floating on warm air.  His eyes were closed and he felt so very tired…

Then he heard something hit the ground behind him and a grunt of pain.

“William, you idiot,” snarled an unfamiliar feminine voice.  “You’re going to wake him!”

“Well, excuse me for being such a damn klutz, Glenda,” growled a male voice.  “What’s a kid doing here anyway?”

“Children can come here as readily as we did,” purred another feminine voice.

“It ain’t right s’all I’m saying, ‘Tany,” stated Williem in a softer tone.  “Give him a roll over here, Lars.  Let’s get a look at ‘is face.”

“Gently!” warned the woman Glenda as rough hands grabbed Harry and rolled him into his back.

“He’s so young,” breathed the woman William had called ‘Tany.

“Couldn’t be more than fifteen,” said a deep bass voice, which had to be the guy Lars.

“Poor kid,” murmured Glenda.

A hand probed at his head and opened one eye, sanding a shaft of light into it.  Harry flinched away from it and someone laughed.

“Well,” remarked William, “that proves he’s alive and not just some Avada Kedavra victim.”

“Don’t even mention that damned curse,” spat ‘Tany.  “Most of us are here because of it.”

“Sorry.  Forgot how touché you are.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to sleep with these people chatting in his ears, Harry blearily opened his eyes and blinked a few times.

“I think he’s waking up,” said Lars.

Harry blinked again then scrambled backwards when a square, blond beared and haired, blue-eyed face was thrust into his own and said, “How ya doin’, kid?”

“Surprised,” answered Harry, eyes darting from the twenty-year-old crouched in front of him to a dark-haired woman of thirty or so sitting to his right.  Another woman, blond-haired with odd golden eyes, sat behind her and a large man, who looked to be half-giant like Hagrid, sat to his left.

The dark-haired woman frowned and asked, “Are you alright.”

Harry nodded then felt his ribs and head.  The golden-eyed woman laughed – a sound like bells – and said, “All pains disappear here, luv.”

“Where’s here?” asked Harry.

“Limbo, kid,” grunted the blond-bearded young man, dropping out of his crouch into Indian style.  “Otherwise known as the Avada Kedavra Shelter, home to that oh-so-wonderful curse’s victims.”

“Not to mention wizards and witches who are coma victims like Lars here,” said the golden-eyed woman.  “And I suppose you too.”  She then smiled and added, “I’m Brittany, by the way.  Call me ‘Tany.”

“Glenda,” said the dark-haired woman.

“William,” said Blond Beard.  “And that big lug there’s Lars.  He doesn’t talk much.”

“Pleasure.  I’m Harry.”

Four eyes met and Harry said, “What?”

Glenda turned toward him and said, “You wouldn’t happen to be Harry Potter, would you?”

“Yeah,” answered Harry, annoyed.  “Why?”

“Are you sure?” asked ‘Tany, a smile on her face.

Harry looked at them oddly then said, “That a trick question or something?”

‘Tany smirked.

“May-be.”

“Am I supposed to be someone specific?”

“We were told to keep an eye out for someone,” confessed William.

“A boy named Harry,” added ‘Tany.

“Who had two names,” continued Glenda.

“One the world knew him by,” said William.

“And the other that only he might know,” finished Lars in a soft voice.

Harry eyes the four of them suspiciously for a minute then muttered, “What the hell,” and said loudly, “Harold Jamison Snape.”

William blinked as ‘Tany let out a whoop of joy and yelled, “You owe me a Galleon, ‘Liam!  I said the next person to come in would be him!”

Glenda shook her head at the two them smiled warmly at Harry.

“So you’re really him.  We’ve heard so much about you, Harry.  Very few have come to us since Voldemort was disposed but there are some.  And they’ve told us all about you.”

“Especially that Quirrell fellow,” said ‘Tany.  “Odd chap.  He had a definite number done on him.  All disoriented after he got hit with the Killing Curse.”

“Quirrell’s here?” gasped Harry.

“Victim of Avada Kedavra, wasn’t he?” said William.

Harry nodded.

“There you go.”

“Ignore him,” advised Glenda.  “You need to go see your mother.”

Harry throat tightened and he breathed, “My…my mum’s – here?”

“Well,” said ‘Tany,” not here specifically.  But she is here in limbo.  Where do you think we learned that name of yours?”

“Where is she?” demanded Harry, heart pounding.  He could actually see his mother, talk to her…

As he got to his feet, Glenda pulled him back down.

“Easy, Harry,” she said when he turned a glare on her.  “It takes a little time to get adjust to this place.”

“Plus it’s a long way from here to where your mom is,” said William.  “Its not blank space up here.  Its an actually world with mountains and streams – the works.”

“So how long will it take to reach her?” asked Harry, forcing his tense muscles to relax.

‘Tany, William, and Glenda all looked at each other.  Lars looked at them, then said in his soft voice, “Months.”

“Months!” exclaimed Harry.  “I’ll miss all of school!”

“And that’s a bad thing?” quipped William.

“And my friends!” cried Harry, not hearing him.  “Oh Slytherin’s serpent, this is a mess.”

He let his head sink into his hands and Lars patted him reassuringly on the shoulder with one large hand.

“So who is this guy and what did he do to Harry?  And why did Niamh faint when she saw him?”

Mika shrugged and shook his head in answer to Ginny’s question.

“I don’t know, Gin.”

“Maybe she knows him,” said Amanda.

“Doesn’t explain why Harry’s in a coma now,” spat Thomas.  “That bloke’s the reason behind it.  I know it.”

“Tom,” said Amanda seriously.  “You said that about Fred and George once and it turned out Harry and Niamh had spelled those water balloons to chase Malfoy and co.”

“That was only one time.”

“Twice.”

“Whatever.  What matters is that I’m generally right about stuff like this.  And that fellow’s bad news.”

Amanda rolled her eyes but Ginny was looking at Thomas.

“I think you’re right, Tom.”

“You do?” gasped the sandy-haired boy.

“Definitely.  Niamh was surprised to see that guy.  And Niamh surprised is never a good sign.”

“Good point,” admitted Amanda.

“But what are we going to do about it?” asked Thomas.

Mika sighed and replied, “Just sit and wait, I guess.  Its all we can do, really.”

“It feels so weird without him,” said Ginny, leaning against Mika.  The white-haired boy nodded and wrapped an arm about her.

“I know what you mean, Gin.  I know exactly what you mean.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Uhn…”

Niamh blinked blearily as she opened her eyes to the white plaster of the ceiling.

“Oh joy,” she muttered, “the Hospital Wing again.”

She sat up slowly, looking around for Madam Pomfrey.  Instead she saw the still, pale form of her best friend.

“Harry!”

Niamh sprang out of the bed and rushed to her friends, which was partially curtained off.  She started down at him in horror as she was how badly he was hurt.

It was the worst she’d ever seen him hurt, though he’d probably had worse on the streets.  There was a large bandage over half of his head, partially covering one eye.  A half cast was rigged over his chest and a whole one covered his left leg.  He look small lying there like that, his skin pale beneath the slight tan he’d acquired over the summer.

Niamh reached out and brushed a lock of dark hair off the exposed side of his face and whispered, “I knew something was wrong.  S’felt wrong since lunch.  I should have known you’d have some part in it.  You always do.”

The girl sighed and felt her friend’s thoughts, finding them still and unmoving except for some tiny part that she couldn’t reach.

“You’re in a coma, aren’t you?” she asked the still body.  “I can’t feel you’re thoughts.  They’re there but I can’t reach them.  I – I can’t reach them!”  She slammed her hands down on the bed, rage flashing across her face.

“Maybe – maybe if I knew how to use these…these – powers – better I could wake you up.  Maybe I’m strong enough to do it.”  Moisture rose up in her eyes and she brushed it away. “But I’m not!  I’m not skilled enough hand I’m not strong enough!  Oh, God, Harry, mate, I don’t want to lose you too!”

Niamh sank to her knees beside the bed, tears flowing freely now.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, taking his limp left hand.  “I can’t.  Jar can’t.  Gin, Mione, Ron, Mik – none of is can.  And especially your da.  It’d kill him.  I’ve seen the way you two are.”  Niamh bowed her head and continued, “Please don’t leave me, Harry.”

There was a slight pressure against her fingers and Niamh jerked her head up.

“Harry?”

The pale face was still and the fingers limp in hers once again.  But she had touched something and it had responded.  Harry would wake up.  She knew it now.

Just not when.

Niamh sighed and stood up, going over and dragging a chair to her friend’s bed.  As she sat back down, she noticed that his wand and arm holster, Hedwig, and basilisk pendant were sitting on the bedside table.  Almost not thinking about what she was doing, she rolled up her left sleeve and strapped the wand holster about her forearm.  Then she looped the silver pendant around her neck, dropping it down the front of her robes, and picked up the sleeping Hedwig.  The snake opened one black eye blearily, hissed at her, then went back to sleep.

Niamh placed the little snake on Harry’s chest, where she curled up into a ball.  Then she took the limp left hand once more and sat there until she fell back to sleep as well, her cheek pressed against Harry’s hand.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Severus sat in Dumbledore’s office, one foot tapping impatiently on the floor.  He wanted to see his son!  But Dumbledore had pulled him up here to see this boy who had so shocked Niamh and was possibly the cause of Harry’s coma.

The teen, blond hair cropped short and standing up in wild spikes, sat directly in front of Dumbledore with all of the professors seated about him.  Severus was the furthest away from him and could probably see him the best from his position near the window.  The teen was clad in a rather tattered pair of dark blue jeans and barely in better condition shirt.  A ragged black cloak pinned with a plain bar hung over one shoulder, contrasting with his black eyes.

Severus also got a bed feeling off of this boy.  He didn’t know why but he sensed something – something dark.  And besides Dumbledore, he was the only professor who had truly met darkness head-on.

He then felt a twinge in his lower back as he shifted position slightly and winced.  Speaking of meeting darkness, he had done so just recently.  The effects of Cruciatus were hard to throw off but he took them.  This wasn’t like fourteen years before when he was fighting to stay sane and have some shred of goodness in his life.  Now he had his son to protect, not himself.

And this blond-haired, black-eyed child who looked like he’d just stepped out of the very orphanage Severus had spent his own childhood in had put a tiny dent in this plan.

“Where is she?” demanded McGonagall suddenly, her voice loud in the quiet of the office.

Severus smirked and sneered, “Surely you don’t expect Trelawney to come down from her lofty tower?”

McGonagall glared at him and Severus gladly returned it with a venomous one of his own.  Growing up in the same house at Septimius Snape, one learned to glare.  Generally he wouldn’t use one of his best on McGonagall (those were reserved for Voldemort) but he was extremely pissed off.

“No, you…”

“Minerva, Severus,” admonished Dumbledore.  “Please.”

McGonagall glowered at Severus, who ignored her as the last member of the little ‘council’ entered the room.

Rebecca Figg, golden-haired and amber-eyed, smiled apologetically and said, “Pardon my absence.  Peeves strung spider web all about my office door.”

Dumbledore nodded and gestured at the empty seat beside Severus.  As she sat down, she leaned towards the Potions Master and asked, “Does Peeves always put spider webs about people’s doors?”

“Only new teachers,” replied Severus, remembering when the poltergeist had played that trick on him on his first day.  “I’d think that you, being the new DADA professor would know how to keep him away.”

“I should think an ex-Auror would know how to as well,” said Rebecca with a flash in her odd amber eyes.

Severus held up a hand and said, “This ex-Auror yields.  The lady wins.”

Rebecca laughed, a cheeky, bell-like sound.

“It’s good to see you again, Severus.”

“You as well, ‘Becca.”

Dumbledore coughed suddenly and all conversation ended.  Every eye in the room became fixed on the headmaster and the boy seated in the center of the room.

The old wizard swept his eyes over the professors then landed them upon the boy.

“Forgive the rather rude welcome.  You surprised us and put us in quite a position.”

“An’ I’m sorry fer tha’, sir,” said the boy, his voice dark with its Cockney accent.

Severus blinked at that.  His son had had that same sort of accent when he’d come to Hogwarts…

“Might we have your name?” asked McGonagall, leaning forward in her seat.

“Tyls,” replied the boy.

Severus frowned at the name.  He’d heard it somewhere.  But where?

“No last name?” asked McGonagall.

“None tha’ I know, ma’am.  I’m ‘n orphan.  Tha man who raised me called me Tyls.  ‘E always said me parents abandoned me.”

“Your from London, aren’t you?” asked Severus.

Tyls turned towards him and Severus swore for a moment he was looking at…someone else.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“The slums?”

The other professors looked at each other, wondering where this was going but Tyls nodded and said, “Yes, sir.  Aye, I grew up ‘dere.”

“A young wizard abandoned in the slums,” said Severus softly.

“What are you getting at?” demanded Madam Hooch.

“Only what I know from experience,” replied Severus snappishly.  “Unwanted children from wizarding families are generally left in Knockturn Alley.  A wizard or witch may not want the child but never would a one of them leave their child in the hands of Muggle’s.”

“Are you implying that this boy is lying, Snape,” snapped McGonagall, eyes flashing.

“No.  As I said, I am only stating what I know from experience.”  He stressed the last words and a few of the professors looked away from him.  Many of them had been teaching when he was a student and some of them had been in the same class or above/below him.  So they knew where he had grown up.

“Sir,” said Tyls, looking directly at Severus.  “I may ‘ave grown up in London, but tha man who raised me was a wizard.”

“I am certain of that,” said Severus.  “Else you would not have known such a spell as to throw open a pair of heavily warded doors and done injury to a student.”

“Surely his answer satisfies even you, Snape,” sneered McGonagall.

Severus looked at her coolly and stated, “Certainly.”

As she leaned back into her chair, he smirked slightly and added, “For now,” enjoying the angry look that came onto her face at that.

The boy shifted nervously in his seat and Severus turned his gaze upon him, finally remembering where he had heard that name.  It had been before the World Cup, when he, his son, and Niamh had gone to Diagon Alley and the two teenagers had gone out into London.  He had been looking for the two rogues when Harry had come up upon him, talking about a Tyls being hurt.  Could it possibly be the same boy?  But surely not…

“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” said Dumbledore, “might we know what you came here for?”

“To come ter school, o’ course,” replied Tyls.  “Me m – mentor wanted ter teach me himself but I begged so often tha ‘e finally relented.  Unfortunately, ‘e could na come wi’ me.  Somethin’ came up at tha las’ minute.”

Severus caught the stumble when the boy had said ‘mentor’.  He glanced about the room and saw that no one else had.  Except for Rebecca, who sat up straighter and propped her chin on her hand.  And of course Dumbledore had noticed.  He noticed everything.  Severus and Rebecca only noticed because they were both ex-Aurors and had been trained to take notice of things like that.  Especially Severus, who had done a good bit of interrogating under Mad-Eye Moody’s hand.

But what had the boy really meant to say?

“Any other reasons?” asked Dumbledore, whose eyes had not moved off of the boy since the beginning of this little ‘council’.

Tyls shifted slightly and said, “Two frien’s o’ mine.”

“And who would these friends be?” asked Professor Vector.

“Niamh O’Feir an’ ‘Arry Potter.”

All eyes turned on Severus, who said, “I fear both of them are in the hospital wing as of this moment.  Thank your entrance for that.”

Tyls paled.

“Are they alrigh’?”

“Miss O’Feir is fine, just a bit startled by your untimely arrival.  One wonders why.”

Tyls stared at Severus, meeting his calculating gaze with wide eyes.  McGonagall started to say something but Dumbledore held up a warding hand, his blue eyes dark behind his half-moon glasses.

“I ‘aven’t seen ‘em in years,” murmured Tyls.

“Ah,” said Severus, leaning back in his chair.  “A spontaneous sort of visit.  I see.”

“Is this an interrogation?” demanded McGonagall, half rising from her seat.  Severus looked at her coolly, expression unreadable.

“I would say not.  I do not interrogate children.  And not anyone else since I left the Aurors.”

“So sit down,” snapped Rebecca, her golden eyes bright.

McGonagall pursed her lips until they turned white but sat down.  She crossed her arms across her chest and frowned at the two ex-Aurors.

“Whots wrong wi’ ‘Arry?” asked Tyls, his voice breaking the silence that had fallen suddenly.  “’E’s fine isn’ ‘e?”

Severus looked seriously at the boy in the center of the room and said, “No, he is not fine.  Mr. Potter was either standing in front of the doors when they opened or fell down the staircase.  Either way, he has broken ribs and a broken leg.”  The dark professor took a deep breath and added, “He is also in a coma.”

Those professors who had not heard this diagnosis all gasped.  Tiny Flitwick nearly fell out of his chair he was so surprised.

Tyls looked down at his hands, twisting them nervously in his lap, then looked up and said, “I – I never mean’ ter ‘urt ‘im.”  He looked at Severus then at Dumbledore.  “I swear, sir, I never mean’ anyt’ing ter ‘appen.  I never mean’ fer anyone ter ge’ ‘urt.”

“Sometimes things happen when we don’t mean for them to,” said Severus.  “That is why we must be very careful in all we do, incase someone may get hurt.”

Dumbledore looked away from Tyls for the first time during the meeting and nodded slightly to Severus.  He then returned his gaze to the teenager and said, “You may be enrolled in classes.  I presume you are fifteen?  And you know the basics?”

“Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration, sir,” admitted Tyls in a meek tone.

“Ah.  Then on Saturday’s you will meet with Professor Figg to study the years you missed on Defense Against the Dark Arts along with Professor Sprout for Herbology and Madam Hooch for flying lessons.  You will need to choose one more class and your Head of House will help you with that.  Minerva, if you would?”

McGonagall nodded stiffly and rose from her seat, striding over to where the Sorting Hat sat on a bookshelf.  She pulled it down then returned to her seat after placing it on the Headmaster’s desk.

The slit in the brim opened and the Hat remarked, “A bit early for another Sorting, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore nodded at Tyls, who was staring at the Hat.  “We have a new student,” he explained.  “Lately arrived.  He needs to be Sorted.”

“Very well,” grumbled the Hat, “but anymore disturbances and we won’t have a song for next year.  Come, boy, pick me up!”

Tyls blinked then tenavely reached out and picked up the Hat, placing it on his head.  Much like it had done on Draco four years previous, it called out the House before it had even touched his head.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Dumbledore nodded as Tyls placed the Hat back on his desk and turned towards the Potions Master.

“It seems you have a new student, Severus.”

“So it seems,” muttered Severus, eyeing his new student.

“Now that we have that sorted out (pardon the pun),” said Dumbledore, “to the punishment.”

“Punishment?” said Professor Sprout in surprise.

Dumbledore looked at her over the top of his glasses and said, “For bringing harm to another student.  Even if unintentionally.”  He looked at Tyls and continued, “Detention with Professor Snape and Professor Figg, alternating between the two every week until Harry wakes up.  It will be served for two hours, from seven to nine.  Understood?”

“Yeh, sir,” murmured Tyls.  “T’ank ye, sir.”

Dumbledore nodded gravely then said to the other professors, “That is all.  Good night.”

The professors rose from their various chairs and filed out.  McGonagall sent a venomous glare at Severus before she went.  The Potions Master did not have the will or urge to return it.  He was gone, thinking of something else, eyes blank.

Dumbledore noticed this and looked at Rebecca, who was eying the dark haired man worriedly.

“Rebecca, my dear, would you lead our young friend down to the Slytherin common room?  I want a word with Severus.  The password is loup-garou.”

Rebecca arched an eyebrow.  “Who chose that?”

“Young Mr. Davids, I believe,” replied the elder wizard.

“Ah.  Goodnight, headmaster, Severus.”

“Goodnight,” said Dumbledore as she and Tyls vanished out the door and it clicked shut behind them.  He waited for a few moments then turned to Severus, who was still not completely in the room.  Rising from behind his desk, he walked over to the younger wizard and placed a withered hand on his shoulder.

“Severus,” he said softly, smiling when the dark eyes snapped back into focus.

“Albus,” mumbled Severus, rubbing a hand over his face.  “I’m sorry, I…”

“Something is troubling you.”

Severus’ face darkened and he spat, “No shit.”  Then he looked up at Dumbledore and said, “I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that.”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “It is good to let your emotions go.”

“You can’t break what the streets taught you,” stated Severus, rubbing his hand over his chin.  Then he grabbed at his left arm and snarled, “Not now.  Not now, damnit!”

“Go,” said Dumbledore, blue eyes grave.

“Harry…”

“Is perfectly fine.”

“I wouldn’t call a coma ‘fine’,” spat Severus as he rose from his chair, right hand clutching his left forearm at the elbow.

“He’s safe.”

“Maybe,” said Severus.  He grimaced as the Mark burned again and hissed, “I have to go.”

“Be careful,” warned Dumbledore.

Severus paused in the doorway to look back at him, his right hand already dipping into the pocket of his cloak where Dumbledore knew the stark white Death Eater mask rested.

“Always,” said the Potions Master as he turned and headed back to the place where he had never wanted to go but had to because of his thrice-damned father.

Madam Pomfrey, who refused to let Niamh stay with Harry, forced her from the infirmary the next morning.  Just because she had classes!  As if she cared about classes when her best friend was lying in a coma!

Hence the reason she had coaxed Jardin down from the Owlery to keep an eye on things.  The raven was extremely distraught, which was understandable.  To what she understood, he and Harry had been connected since that Christmas morning in their first year.  And ever since then, that bond had been growing ever stronger.

Now half of that bond was unreachable.  Jardin had tried valiantly but not even he could reach Harry’s mind.

Niamh sighed and felt in her pocket for Hedwig, who she had decided to keep with her along with Harry’s wand and basilisk pendant.  She thought these items might get her a better connection with her dear friend.

Then again, maybe she was just kidding herself.

“Fuck!”

Niamh kicked the stone wall suddenly, screaming the word out.  She felt so damn helpless!  Just like when Harry and Cedric had been taken from the Quidditch pitch to wherever Voldemort had been.

That memory nearly brought her to tears.  She sank to the floor, back to the wall, her mind flashing through those painful memories.  Especially the one where she had seen Cedric on the ground beside Harry, so still, so – so dead.

A single tear ran down her cheek and fell in a sparkling drop to the floor with a soft splash.  Niamh ran the back of her hand across her face, jerking back when something rough and hard scratched her.  She looked down at her right hand, at the ring finger where a silver ring sat.

It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.  The silver was carved into the likeness of a serpentine dragon, a tiny sapphire set in the place of its eye.

It had been a gift from Cedric.  He had given it to her not long after the Yule Ball, one of the best nights of her life.

He’d said she reminded him of a dragon be cause of her fiery temper and unshakable will.

Slytherin’s serpent, she missed him.

Niamh sighed and heaved herself to her feet.  Much as she missed Cedric, her moping over him wouldn’t help Harry.

Cedric was gone forever.  She’d never look into his gray eyes again, never laugh at his corny jokes – the ones he only made around her, never…never kiss him again, never feel his arms around her again.  Never feel…anything.

Damnit, life was so unfair.

But, as usual, it continues, leaving the dead behind as it forces the living on.

With another sigh, Niamh continued on to the Great Hall.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So all of you were wizards and witches.”

“Got it in one, kid,” said William, chewing on a piece of straw.

“Each of us from different countries, a few from different times,” said Glenda.  “William there is from the 60s.”

“And he’s an American,” said ‘Tany.

“Hey!” exclaimed William.  “My mother was half-Irish.”

‘Tany snorted and said to Harry, “Americans.  All of them think England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland are all one big happy family.”

“They are all the British Isles,” said Lars softly, prompting ‘Tany to roll her eyes.

“Technicality there, Lars.”

William shook his head and stretched out on the grass.

“Speaking of times and such, good ole’ ‘Tany there was a Death Eater.”

Harry blinked and looked at her.  She smiled at him and her golden eyes seemed to flicker to green.

“Easy, Harry.  I was a spy, one of three.  Being a Shifter, I was one of the most capable but not the best.”  ‘Tany smiled and continued, “Your father was that.  He did three things at once, Severus did.  He was Dumbledore’s spy because he was already in because of his father.  Voldemort thought he was loyal.  Then he was an Auror.  And working on becoming a Potions Master, what he had always wanted to be.  I still don’t know how the man stayed sane.”

Harry blinked a few times then asked, “How’d you get here?”

“Auror got me.  It was a raid planned to catch Lucius Malfoy.  That bombed and those sods caught Severus instead.  I was trying to explain who we were when some rookie looking to make a name for himself hit me with the Killing Curse.  I’ve been hoping for years that he’d get sent here and I could tell him what a son of a bitch he was.”

“’Tany!” exclaimed Glenda.  “Watch your language!”

“Its okay,” said Harry.  “I grew up – well, let’s just say somewhere not very nice.  I heard language than that everyday.”  He pulled one leg underneath him and added, “When are we going to start walking?”

William looked around and said, “Now’s good.  It never gets dark around here and there’s really no need to sleep as we’re just – eh, what’s the word, ‘Tany?”

“Figments, you sodding idiot.  I ought to choke you instead of that idiot that offed me.”

“Y’know you love me.”

‘Tany glared at him and promptly made a rude sign involving her middle finger.

Glenda rolled her eyes at the both of them and rose gracefully to her feet, saying, “Let’s get going then.  We’ve got months of travel ahead of us and we all know how slow time is here.”

“I don’t,” said Harry.

“Slower than a snail dragging a fifty-ton weight,” muttered William to the teen.

“Glenda, dearie, let’s just start.  I’m certain Harry here can handle himself well in battle.  If it comes to it.”  ‘Tany looked at the teen.  “Right?”

Harry nodded and she smiled.

“I’d expect nothing less of Severus’ son.  Come on then.  Lars, get up you big lug.”

Lars grunted and rose heavily to his feet, reaching out a large paw to Harry.  The teen took the offered hand and was pulled effortlessly up by the much larger man.

William sprang happily to his feet and cried, “And so we boldly go where no man had gone before!”

The other four stared at him incredulously and he shook his head sadly.

“You all have no appreciation for American TV,” said the blond man with snort.

“And half of you Americans have no appreciation for our comedy, so were even,” snapped ‘Tany in response.

“Do they always argue?” asked Harry to Lars softly.

Lars nodded and Glenda said, “Always.  Never a dull moment with those two around.”  She sighed as the two began to bicker and turned to look up at Lars, who towered over all of them at eight feet.  “Will you please get those two, Lars?  Harry and I will start.”

“Right,” said Lars and lumbered over towards the two.

“So they’re always like that?” said Harry as he and Glenda started forward.  The dark-haired witch nodded once and fell silent after that.  Harry looked behind them to see Lars plodding along, an irate William slung backwards over on large shoulder and a sulky looking ‘Tany trapped against his side by one huge paw.  The teen blinked a few times then shook his head.

What sort of insane company had he fallen into?

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Niamh entered the Great Hall and was surprised to find it almost as silent as a tomb.  Whispers and sneaked glances followed her as she crossed the Hall to the Slytherin table and sat down across from Mika and Ginny.

“What’s with the quiet?” she asked, glaring down the table at one first year who was not so surreptitiously staring at her.

“Word about Harry’s gotten around.”

“Shit.  Who?”

“Not Malfoy,” said Ginny.

“I don’t trust him,” growled Mika.

“Is that the Voice of Reason or Moody’s Son talking?” sneered Niamh.

Mika glared at her and snapped, “Just plain old me.  Dad told me to never trust a Malfoy.”

“He also said not to trust anyone who was close to Professor Snape,” said Ginny curtly.

Mika blanched.

“Yes…well…Da doesn’t think very highly of him…”

“We know,” chorused the two girls, earning a glare from the boy.

“Anyway,” said Ginny, “I don’t think it was Malfoy.  One, he wasn’t in the entrance hall then.  Two, I dropped a book yesterday and he picked it up for me.  That’s no normal.”

“S’ruse,” said Mika in the same instant Niamh asked, “Why’s that, Gin?”

“Because the Malfoy’s and the Weasley’s have had a mutual hatred for each other since the time of the Founders,” replied the redhead.  She looked at Mika and added, “And no self-respecting Malfoy would go as far as to help a Weasley, even one in Slytherin.  That’s no a farce we’re seeing.”

“I hope you’re right, Gin,” said Mika.

“So who was it?” asked Niamh.

“Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Please,” scoffed Niamh.  “Those two don’t have the IQ of a pudding between them.  And they weren’t in the entrance hall either.”

“True.  Who else?  Who would have known?”

“Was there anyone else in the hall?” asked Ginny.

“I didn’t see anyone,” said Mika.  “But there could have been.  Wait…I did see Neville.”

“Neville’d never tell anyone something like that,” said Niamh.  “Amanda says he’s a good person.  And so does Hermione.  If a bit nervous.”

“Then who?” asked Ginny.

“Somebody,” said Mika.  “One little word and its all over the school next morning.  Probably some twit who snuck into the infirmary…”

“I am a twi’?” said a voice suddenly from behind Mika and Niamh.  “I ‘ad no idea word would ge’ ‘round so quickly.”

Ginny looked up and exclaimed, “You!”

Meanwhile, Niamh had frozen at the sound of the voice.  It was as familiar as Harry’s was and had retained the Cockney accent that Harry had not.  But it was impossible!  It could not be him!  It couldn’t!

Doubting what she had heard, the dark-haired girl turned around in her seat slowly, blue eyes wide with fear and nervousness.  She gasped when she saw the tall, gangly boy standing behind her.

She hadn’t been seeing things the night before!  But – this couldn’t be!

“Tyls,” she breathed in a voice that was almost not a voice it was so soft.

The sandy-haired boy smiled down at her, his black eyes bright.  He said, “’Ello, Little Niamh.”

Niamh shivered at the sound of the familiar nickname.  It had been Tyls’ name for her because she had been so very sort when they’d met.

“But,” she gasped, “this – this is impossible.  You can’t be here.  You can’t…”

“Niamh?” said Ginny in a worried voice, reaching across the table to touch the older girl’s hand.  Mika also looked worried, his brown eyes flicking from Niamh to Tyls in confusion.  They finally landed on Tyls and suspicion brimmed in them.

“I can’na be ‘ere?” said Tyls, surprise twisting his features.  “Why can I na be ‘ere?”

Niamh stared at him as though he had held up a picture of Voldemort in a pink dress.  “You’re dead,” she breathed.  Then in a louder voice, “You were dead!”

Several heads from further down the table turned towards them along with a few at the Hufflepuff table.  Ginny hurriedly said, “Niamh, keep your voice down!”

“What do you mean he was dead?” demanded Mika, his eyes blazing.

Niamh simply shook her head then buried it in her hands.  Her shoulders shook as she mumbled, “This isn’t possible…  It can’t be…”

“Ni,” said Tyls, touching her shoulder gently.  She jerked violently away from him, scrambling out of her seat.

“Stay away from me,” she hissed.  “You’re dead.  You’re dead!”

Tyls took a step towards her and Niamh pulled her wand out of her sleeve, her hand shaking violently as she pointed it at him.  “Stay away!”

“Expelliarmus!” cried a voice from the Head Table as every student (and most of the professors) in the Hall watched the confrontation in mixed awe and confusion.  None of them had ever seen the girl know as Lady Hex loose her cool and now she was going into meltdown.

Niamh’s wand whipped through the air and Snape snatched it out of the air as though he were grabbing a Snitch.  Then he moved around the Head Table and began to walk towards her, stopping a few feet away from her.  He could see the girl trembling in fright and it worried him – he did not let this show on his face, however.

“Miss O’Feir,” he said in his soft voice that generally spelled detention.

Niamh’s fear-filled eyes locked with his.

“S-sir?”

“Follow me,” was all Snape said.  He stepped up beside Niamh and placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her out of the Great Hall.  As soon as they were gone, conversation resumed, most of it probably surrounding the girl’s odd behavior.

“How very strange,” muttered Flitwick at the Head Table as he watched Snape lead Niamh out.  He turned to Hagrid, who was sitting on his right, and said, “Have you ever know Miss O’Feir to ask like that, Hagrid?”

The half-giant shook his shaggy head and replied, “Neh.  But ‘Arry is ‘er best friend.”

“True,” said the tiny wizard with a nod.  “The poor lad…”

“Poor girl too,” said Hagrid.

“Indeed.”

At the Slytherin table, Tyls stood where he was for a moment then turned towards Mika and Ginny, who were both glaring at him.  He looked at the two of them for a long moment then headed down the table to find another place to sit.  As soon as he was gone, Ginny hissed to the white-haired boy across the table, “What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” replied Mika in quiet voice.  “But whatever it is, its got to do with something that happened last summer.  You remember?  The two of them seemed awfully vacant in their letters.  Like they had something else on their minds.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

“I remember.  They were like that when term started again too.  Harry’s better at hiding things than Niamh, but something was definitely wrong.  With both of them.”  She jerked her head down the table towards Tyls (who had found a seat across from Draco) and continued, “And I bet my wand its got something to do with him.”

Mika frowned as he nodded, his dark eyes watching Tyls.

“I just wish we knew what happened.”

“Had to be bad,” said Ginny.  “Ni was saying he was dead.”

“But why would she say that?  And he couldn’t be.  There’s no way to bring anyone back from the dead!”

Ginny shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just her worry over Harry.”

“Maybe,” said Mika, his eyes still focused on Tyls.  He seriously did not trust that fellow…

“May I inquire…”

“No, you may not.”

“Miss O’Feir…”

“No, professor.”

“Niamh,” growled Severus under his breath, stopping and turning towards the girl.  She had her face turned to the floor, her chin tucked against her chest.  “Child, look at me.”

The dark head did not move and Severus sighed.

“Niamh,” he said softly, “look at me.”

The head lifted and wide blue eyes looked into his.  Severus smiled and patted her shoulder, tucking her wand into her pocket as he did so.

“Now,” he said, “one wonders why you claim that boy is dead.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” mumbled Niamh, looking away.

Severus grasped the girl’s chin and turned her face back towards him.  He looked at her for a long moment then said, “You will have to eventually.”

“I know, sir.  Is that all?”

Severus sighed and nodded.  Niamh nodded slightly, a barely perceptible nod, and started to walk away.

“Miss O’Feir.”

Niamh stopped and turned to look at Severus, who had his usual bitter expression on his face.  But his eyes were not yet hooded and she could see concern for her in them.  The same concern he has for Harry, she thought idly.

“Sir?”

“You know where my office is, should you change your mind.”

Niamh blinked then saw a pair of Hufflepuff third years coming down the corridor behind him.  She nodded, a small smile on her face as she realized Severus was offering her the solitude of his office and his company if she ever needed it.  With a dawning expression on her face, she murmured, “Thank you, sir,” before turning and heading towards Arx Serpens.

Behind her, Severus shook his head slightly then snapped at the two Hufflepuff’s, who were inching away from him.  They broke into a run when he snapped at them.  Severus took pleasure in taking five points from their House for running in the halls.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Halfway to Arx Serpens, Niamh stopped in her tracks.  She stood there for a few moments before she turned around and headed in the general direction of the hospital wing.

Once there, she pushed the curtains back from around Harry’s bed and paused, staring blankly at the unconscious form of her friend.  Quite suddenly a whole flood of feelings came pouring up from the depths of her soul and she pulled back.  As the curtains fell back, she wrapped her arms about her waist, a sob threatening to wind its way up her throat.  She swallowed hard, slowly sinking to the floor as tears welled in her eyes.

Oh Lord help me, she whispered.  Harry…oh gods, Harry, why did this have to happen?  I’m a wreck.  First Cedric, now you.  Your not – gone – but I can’t reach you.  The tears streamed down her cheeks.  I can’t reach you.  It hurts.  Slytherin, it hurts…  Someone help me.  Please…

But no one came to answer her plea.  She was left to sob on the floor of the hospital wing, everything from the past year welling up.  Cedric’s death, the discovery of her ‘gifts’, her father’s beatings, Tyls’ return, Harry’s coma…too much for a fifteen-year-old to handle.

As her sobs subsided, Niamh sank into unconsciousness.  Severus found her a few hours later in that condition when he slunk up to the hospital wing to visit his son.

“Niamh?” he whispered, a worried frown crossing his features as he knelt by the young girl.  He ran his thumb over a shimmering on her cheeks and came away with the remains of the girl’s tears.  “Oh child…”

Gently, he gathered the limp form into his arms, shifting his burden slightly when she whimpered.  He felt a small hand curl about a fistful of his robes as the girl leaned into his arms.  A small smile graced his lips at this.

He looked once at the curtains that hid the still form of his son and turned away as his own grief threatened to overwhelm him.  With Harry lying comatose, he felt like he was losing him.  Like he was losing Lily all over again.

Get yourself together, Sev, he scolded himself, pushing his grief back.  Harry is going to be fine.  Niamh…perhaps a different story.

Severus sighed and whispered an apology to the still form behind the curtained area then left the hospital wing.  No one saw him as he carried Niamh down to his rooms.  There he went into the rooms his son occupied when they stayed at Hogwarts.  Ever so gently, he laid the teen down on the bed, tucking the blankets in about her.  As he straightened and looked down at the sleeping girl, he realized how much she had become like his own daughter.

Brushing locks of dark hair away from the closed eyes, he smiled slightly then left, gently closing the door behind him.  He leaned against the heavy oak wood as it clicked closed, running his hands over his face.  With the sudden realization of the fatherly feelings he felt for Niamh, his love for his son welled up, bright and painful.  It felt like a sword had been thrust through his gut.

Forcing himself away from the door, Severus retreated to his bedchamber, where he found Jardin perched on the headboard.

“Good eve,” he said to the bird wearily, the love for his son thrumming painfully at the sight of the creature.  One that had found him on the morning of Christmas.

< You visited? > asked the raven wearily.  Since Harry had fallen into his coma, the large bird had gone from a very well looking creature to a dilapidated one.  His sleek, dark feathers had lost their shine and sometimes fell out.  The bright yellow eyes had dimmed to bronze, pain flashing in their depths constantly.  Until Harry returned, the bird would not be the same.  And probably not after that either.

“Started to,” replied Severus as he pulled off his outer robe.  “I became…otherwise occupied.”

< How so? >

“Niamh.”

Pained bronze eyes lifted to meet his black.  < The youngling?  What has she to do with your visit? >

“I found her there.  Cried herself to sleep.”

< She feels too much. >

“If you mean Diggory…”

< That is not what I mean, Severus, > snapped the bird, a sound that the Potions Master smiled at.  It had been so long since he’d heard the creature snap…

“Then pray tell me what you do mean.”

< She is an empath.  And a telepath. >

“Hence the reason she can hear you all of the time,” mused Severus, nodding.  “I see…”

< Except when…when she’s being blocked.  Then she can sense it.  I believe that she is a Seer as well. >

“Don’t suggest that to her!”

< Afraid of another Sybil? >

“Have you ever been trapped with that woman in a broom cupboard?”

< I’ve not had the pleasure.  And what were you doing with Sybil Trelawney in a broom cupboard? >

“Potter and Black thought it’d be funny to shove the two of us into it in our fifth year – she was a seventh year.  Merlin’s beard, I thought she’d never shut up.”

< Why didn’t you open the door? >

“Because they locked it, featherbrain,” growled Severus, opening his wardrobe.  He reached up to the shelf above where his robes hung and pulled down a somewhat dusty bottle.  Walking over to the table near the door, he opened a door and fumbled about until he dug up a tumbler.

< Whiskey at this time of day? >

“It is almost midnight for your information and this is not whiskey.”

Jardin batted an eye.  < Then what is it? >

“Rum,” replied Severus as he picked up the tumbler and knocked the liquid in it back.  “Oh Christ…”

< Bad? >

“Excellent.”

< You humans and your alcohol. >

“Very good alcohol.”

< Does Harry know you drink? >

“I am not some drunken slob, if that’s what you’re saying.”

< Only drunken slobs drink rum, Severus. >

“Pardon me for being raised by a drunk slob then.”

< Your father? >

“Merlin, no.  The orphanage witch.”

< A drunken slob? >

“The worst,” said Severus as he abandoned the tumbler and took a swig of the rum straight from the bottle.

< You’ll have hangover if you keep going like that. >

“Hence the reason that Hangover Draughts were invented, my dear bird.  Why don’t you go keep watch over Niamh?”

< And what are you going to do? > asked Jardin, flipping a wing.

“I am going to get very, very drunk.”

Jardin rolled his eyes and grumbled, < Humans. >

“Birds.”

< I am not a bird. >

“Let’s see: wings, tail, talons, beak, feathers, eyes.  Bird.”

< Drunken biped. >

“If that’s all the insults you can think of, then get out!”

< I can do much better.  I’m being lenient. >

“LENIENT?”

< Your drunk. >

Severus sneered and snarled, his words vaguely slurred, “Jus’ because I’m drunk does’n mean I can’t insul’ you.”

< Sure it doesn’t, > remarked Jardin disbelievingly.  < Until morning, Severus. >

“Heng,” growled Severus, sneering at the bird as he lifted the brown bottle to his lips again.

Jardin shook his head then launched himself off the headboard, flying straight through the wall to the room where Niamh lay sleeping peacefully.  Severus shook his head after the bird then went to hunt down a book to take his mind off of things at hand.

Warmth.

So warm.

Cozy, snug, and warm.

In a bed.

A bed not in Arx Serpens.

Niamh leapt awake at that and blue eyes flew open, staring about the room she was in.  A picture of herself and Harry waved at her from the nightstand and her heart clenched.  Tears welled and threatened to spill down her cheeks at the sight of her friend’s grinning face but she forced them back, choking them down.

A glance about the room confirmed that it was someplace Harry had resided at one time.  Tacked to the wall above the bed was a Slytherin banner accompanied by a copy of a sketch Hermione had done of their crest.  Across the room above a bookcase filled with books on hexes, curses, potions, and various Muggle novels, was another copy of a sketch Hermione had done – this one of Neville’s boggart.  On the nightstand beside the picture, was the tiny statue of Hedwig the owl.  The snake herself was currently residing in Niamh’s dormitory, tucked safely in a box under the bed.

But this wasn’t Harry’s bed in Arx Serpens.

So where was it?

Determined to know, the teen swung her feet down to the floor and padded across it to the door.  As she reached out to open it, she thought back on the events of the day before.

Her outburst at Tyls.

The conversation with Professor Snape.

Her collapse in the hospital wing.

Someone…carrying her.  Somewhere…

“Ah,” said a smooth, silky voice as Niamh opened the door to the room beyond, “it wakes.”

< What greetings you give, Severus. >

Niamh blinked as her eyes took in the form of her Head of House and Jardin, both of whom looked the worse for wear.  The girl blinked as she realized that both were relaxed now.  She was seeing the manifestations of the pain they felt.

Not that she couldn’t feel them.  The room was choked with a sense of loss and longing, so strong that it nearly bowled the young empath over.  Severus noticed this and half rose from his seat at the table.

“Niamh…”

“I’m fine, sir,” assured Niamh, reasserting her hold upon her abilities.  As she did so, she noticed they seemed wilder, more untamable.  A glance at Jardin told her that the raven had noted this as well.  “Just a little…overwhelmed.”

Severus frowned at the girl and said, “Overwhelmed?”

< Aye, > said Jardin < ,overwhelmed by our emotions, I do not doubt. >

Jardin! shrieked Niamh mentally, causing the bird to wince slightly.

< Easy, childling.  It is five in the morning.  I am in no condition to have anyone yelling at me. >

Severus frowned at this then turned his eyes on Niamh.  “You’re an empath,” he hissed softly, vaguely remembering hearing that from Jardin the night before.

Niamh nodded slowly and said, “And a telepath.  Cat’s out of the bag, sir.”

“I see.”  Now Severus did remember hearing that.  “And when, pray tell, did you discover these…abilities?”

“End of last year,” admitted Niamh softly.  “When Harry and Cedric…”

Severus held up a hand to stop her and instantly winced.  He let the hand continue up to his forehead and moaned softly.

< That is what you get for drinking rum, > said Jardin with a smirk in his voice.

“Oh shut up,” snarled Severus, glaring at the bird.

Niamh blinked at the comment from the raven.  She didn’t know her Head of House had drunk alcohol, let alone rum.  Then again, he was about thirty-six.  That thought brought up a vision of Dumbledore getting rather sloshed and she hurriedly dismissed it.  Dumbledore was mad enough without having alcohol mixed in.

“Um, sir?”

“Yes?” said Severus, looking up at her.  Two of his fingers rubbed at his temple, distracting her for a moment.

“Er…did you…?”  She trailed off and Severus smiled.

“Yes, I brought you down here.  Did you suspect Poppy?”

“No, sir,” replied Niamh.  “She’d have kept me in the hospital wing.”

Severus chuckled softly so as not to further aggravate his headache.

“A good point, child.  Now, I believe it is time for breakfast.”

< You want to go to breakfast with the aftereffects of a good sloshing? >

Severus scowled mildly at the raven and sneered, “There is no such thing as a ‘good’ sloshing, foul creature.”

Jardin seemed to smirk at that.  < You tell that to some of the wizards I used to talk to.  Of course, they were Irish so… >

“Bird, that line of conversation is going nowhere.  I’m Irish.”

< Ha!  Only to a fault. >

“What?” said Niamh, not understanding at all.

“Ignore him,” growled Severus, waving a hand lightly.  He then rose a little unsteadily to his feet and weaved through the door that led to his private lab.  When he came back a minute or so later, it was with a surer stride and a slightly smile.

< Sobriety Potion, > sneered Jardin.  < You are a disgrace to Irishmen. >

“And here I thought you just said I wasn’t Irish,” quipped Severus.  He gently took Niamh’s should and began to steer her towards the door.  “Coming, bird?”

< I have nothing else to do. >

“Foul creature,” grumbled Severus good-naturedly as Jardin settled on his shoulder.

Jardin snarled back, < Ignorant biped. >

Niamh chuckled softly at the good-natured banter and the two gave each other knowing glances.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Niamh!” cried Mika as he spotted the girl coming towards the Slytherin Table.  His brown eyes darted over her slightly weary looking figure, taking in the light circles under her eyes.

“Hiya, Mik,” said Niamh, sliding into the seat beside him.  “Somethin’ up?”

“Yeah,” replied Mika.  “You’ve had everyone in a right twist, y’know.”

Niamh looked surprised at that.

“What?  Why?”

“Nobody knew where you were!  One second your screaming at that Tyls chap and the next your off with Professor Snape.  Then you don’t show up for class or anytime later.  It’s a worrying process.”

Niamh winced and murmured, “Sorry, Mik.  S’everyone looking for me?”

“Gin, Herms, Amanda, and Neville are right now.  Ron’s still asleep and Malfoy…hell, y’know I wouldn’t ask him for any favors.”  He turned a serious gaze on her and added, “Where did you go anyway?”

“Hospital wing,” mumbled Niamh, knowing what reaction she’d get from him.

Mika frowned and reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Moping in the hospital wing isn’t going to bring him back any quicker, Ni.”

“Don’t call me that, Mik.  ‘Kay?  I…I’m not altogether right now.”

Mika nodded slowly and said, “Alright.  But you know what I’m saying, don’t you?  You sitting in the infirmary for hours on end isn’t going to do anything but hurt you.  It already has.  D’you think Harry’d want you sitting about waiting for him to wake up?”

Niamh snorted and replied, “Hah!  He’d laugh at me and call me an idiot.”

“Exactly.”

Niamh frowned and looked at Mika, who returned it with a serious look.  She then heaved a sigh and said, “I get you, Mik.  But Harry’s my best friend.  Has been ever since first year.  I worry about him.”

Mika sighed and wrapped an arm about her shoulder’s, pulling her close.  “We all worry about Harry,” he said.  “But he’s not going anywhere.  We both know that.”

“I know.  It’s just…”

“You’ve got that fear.”

“Yeah,” admitted Niamh.  “I’m afraid that he’ll leave me.  Just like…just like…”  She choked and trailed off here.

“Cedric?” queried Mika, saying it very softly so as not to send the Lady Hex into a fit or something much worse – such as a hexing binge.

Niamh nodded and said, “Yeah.  Like Cedric.  I’m afraid, Mik.”

“We all are,” said Mika.  “But we’re Slytherin’s.  We’ll pull through and stick together through it all.  Right?”

Niamh chuckled and gave him a funny look.

“Mik, mate, I think you’re confusing us with the Hufflepuff’s.”

“Oh, y’know what I mean.  Us.  Our group.  You, me, Gin, Herm, Ron, Neville, Amanda.  All that lot.  All for one and one for all and all that Three Musketeer stuff.”

“’Cept there’s more than three of us.”

“Yeah,” said Mika.  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

Niamh smiled and said, “Yeah.  Yeah, I know what you mean.  Thanks, Mik.”

Mika grinned and asked, “Hey, what’re friends for?  Now, what do you say we go find that other lot before breakfast is all gone?”

“Sounds like a plan.  Let’s go!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Severus watched Mika and Niamh leave the Great Hall with a small, private smile that only Dumbledore caught.  The old wizard leaned over and whispered, “Resilient, aren’t they?”

“Very,” said Severus, turning towards the older wizard.  “Albus, about this boy…Tyls.”

“What of him?”

“Does something seem – ah – off about him?”

“Off?” repeated Dumbledore.

Severus nodded.

“Yes, off.  I know Harry was kept from getting owls until he was eleven but this Tyls, if he was a wizard – wouldn’t he have gotten a letter?”

“You have a point, Severus, but perhaps he did get them and his teacher did not want him to come.”

“Maybe,” mumbled Severus, glaring at the raven that was currently eating his bacon.  “Get your own food!”

Jardin looked up and batted a bronzed eye at him.

< I would, but bacon is so much better. >

Well, find someone else’s plate, thought Severus furiously at the bird.

< When yours is so temptingly in front of me?  I think not. >  The raven scoffed and turned back to the bacon.  Severus lifted his hands in exasperation and glanced heavenward, bringing a chuckle from Dumbledore.

“Stubborn creatures, are they not?” said the old man in amusement.  “Fawkes is much the same way.”

“Merlin help you, Albus,” said Severus, earning another chuckle from the old man.  He slowly picked up his goblet and took a sip of the cold pumpkin juice.  Perhaps he might get through the next few months without any untoward events.

But judging from what had happened so far, he doubted it.

And he seriously doubted Voldemort would leave Harry alone in his coma.

“Oh, I heard it through the grapevine; not much longer would you be mine; ooooohhhhh, I heard it through the grapevine; I’m just about to looooooose my mind, honey, honey, oh yeah.”

“For the love of God, man!” shrieked Tany, clamping her hands over her ears.  “Shut the hell up!”

William glared at her but continued belting out the song.  Off key.  Drastically off key.

“If you must insist on singing that infernal song, sing it on key.  On key!”

“For the sake of all our sanities and eardrums,” grumbled Harry.  No offense meant to William but he had heard drunken stoners sing better than that.  And on key.

“Fine,” grumbled William.  “You sing something then, Tany.”

“I’d be glad to,” snapped the golden-eyed woman.  She mused for a moment then broke out into an Eagles song, causing William to let out a moan.

“Not this again!”

“You told her to sing,” pointed out Glenda, smiling slightly at the disgruntled American.  “If you wanted something in particular, you should have said so.”

William snorted at that.

“As if she’d sing anything I want her to.”

Tany broke off in her singing to chirp, “Damn straight!” before launching right back in where she’d left off.

“See?” said William, looking at Glenda accusingly.

“And they’re always like this?” said Harry to Lars, who strolled along beside him.  The big man nodded slowly in reply.

“Always,” he rumbled in his deep bass voice.  Abruptly he grabbed Harry about the waist and threw the teen behind him, yelling, “Glenda!”

The dark-haired woman turned and frowned at him.

“What is it?”

“Look,” was all of Lars’ reply and he pointed towards a hill about a half-mile away.  Harry peered around the large man and saw a lone figure standing on the hill.  They were dressed in dark robes and leaning heavily on a staff.  Black hair streaked gray in places fell about their face, which was that of a man.

Glenda sneered at the figure and Tany dropped off her singing to let out a rumbling growl – one that was far too low and guttural to be human.  Harry saw her shoulders hunching and claws growing from her fingertips before Lars blocked his view.

“Who is it?” he demanded.  “What’s going on?!”

“It’s your dear old grandfather, if I’m not mistaken,” hissed William in a dark tone, causing Harry to blink.

“My grandfather?  Sadiron?”

“Sadiron Snape,” confirmed Glenda.  “Merlin, I hate that bastard.  Tany, take Harry and get out of here.  That man is not getting his hands on Lily’s son!”

There was a low growl in answer and a huge tawny wolf came around Lars, causing Harry to jump back against the man’s bulk.  The beast rolled golden eyes at him and tossed its head at its back.  Harry looked rebellious for a moment then he slowly clambered up onto the broad back, burying his hands in the thick fur.

“GLENDA!” came a bellow from the direction of the hill.

“Go!” hissed Lars to Tany the Wolf, who leapt into a lope, Harry clinging to her back.  He looked back once to see his grandfather firing what looked like a blast of Cruciatus at William and his stomach clenched.  He’d only run from a fight once in his life and he had sworn he’d never do it again.  Yet here he was, clinging to the back of the huge wolf that Tany had become, fleeing from battle.  It made him sick.

“We should go back!” he cried to Tany, who shook her shaggy head.  There was a vague crunching sound from the vicinity of the wolf’s throat and then Tany’s voice was coming out of its maw.

“I know you want to go back and fight, Harry, but we can’t.  Sadiron has found some way to leech power out of the world about us.  He’s even stronger here than he was in the real world.”

“You faced him?”

“Glenda has.  Several times.  I saw him fight once.”  A shiver ran through the wolf’s body and up into Harry’s arms.  “Nasty.”

“Well, here’s a question – what in all nine hells is my psychotic grandfather doing here?!  He was Kissed by the Dementors a year ago!”

Tany winced and said, “We forgot to mention that they come here too, didn’t we?”

“YEAH!”

“Well, they do,” said Tany, dodging a tree.  “And if he sees you…we won’t have a chance to get to your mum.  I’m glad he doesn’t know that she and Severus were together.  Else he’d have been trying to find her.”

“Does he always attack people at random?”

Tany shook her shaggy head in response.

“Na.  He’s got something against Glenda.  She’d never said what exactly and none of us have ever asked.”

Harry nodded absently and laid his head against her shoulder, asking, “When are we going to stop?”

“Soon as we’re far enough away.  You tired?”

“A little.”

Tany gave a rumbling growl that could have been interpreted as a laugh and said, “Sleep a little, kid.  I’ll wake you when we stop.”

“What about the others?”

“They’ll be fine,” assured Tany.  “You sleep now and don’t worry about a thing.  I’ll take care of you.”

Harry nodded sleepily and laid his tired head against her shoulder.  His eyes drifted shut as he thought to himself, I’m stuck in limbo with an ex-Death Eater slash spy slash Shifter with my psychotic grandfather on the loose and Slytherin knows what else.  Why is it always me that gets stuck in the insane situations?

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

It had been three months since Harry had been thrown – quite literally – into a coma.  Tyls, to the surprise of many, had settled easily into the politics of Slytherin House.  He had swiftly turned into the one Slytherin anyone in the other Houses was willing to talk to and trusted.  Thanks to Harry’s own dealings with the other Houses, the members of Slytherin readily accepted this.  Well…most of them.

Niamh was one of the few people who attempted to avoid Tyls like the plague.  Every time she got near him, her empathic abilities practically screamed something was wrong.  She just couldn’t figure out what…

Most of the castle resident’s had gone back to their normal routines.  Harry’s most loyal friends, however, continued to visit the comatose teen whenever they could.  Niamh was the most frequent of the visitor’s.

One soul in the castle, however, had the misfortune of not being able to visit the young Slytherin.

His father.

Since Harry had fallen into his coma, Severus Snape had become even more bitter and sarcastic than ever.  He had kept up his old routine for some weeks before grief had caught hold of him hard.  Now he had taken to rarely showing up for meals and taking points off anyone that got in his way – including members of Slytherin House.  Only Niamh was show partiality to his ire.

Most in the castle took it as him just being his usual git of a self.  But those who knew better (ie, those that knew the truth of the matter) felt pity for him.  Of all of them, he was the one who wanted to help Harry the most.  After all, what father did not want to help his son?

Another thorn in the dark man’s side was Voldemort’s obvious distrust of him.

The news of his being a spy had never been released to the public.  Or so Severus thought.  They were playing a game of cat-and-mouse now, he and Voldemort.

And Severus was feeling more and more like the mouse with every meeting.

Beyond that, all was perfectly normal at Hogwarts.  Well…as normal as the school generally was.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Gin?”

“Yeah?”

“Um…is that Seamus?”

Ginny looked up from her Potions book at Mika’s question – and immediately dropped the aforementioned book on Thomas’ hand, which had been snaking towards her inkpot.

“Ow!” exclaimed the brown-haired boy, snatching his hand back and cradling it against his chest.  “What in the ruddy heck was that for?”

The fourth year simply lifted her arm and pointed across the Great Hall, brown eyes wide.  Thomas followed the line of her quivering finger and immediately ducked underneath the table.

“I did not need to see that!”

“No,” grumbled Mika as a furious McGonagall chased the very naked and seemingly drunk Seamus out of the Hall.  “Definitely did not need to see that.”

“I’m going to carry that image with me for the rest of my life.  Or at least for a long while,” moaned Amanda.  Mika gave her an askance look.

“What about me?  I have a photographic memory!”

Amanda sighed and shook her head.  She then winked at Ginny and said, “Though he does have a nice ass, aye, Gin?”

Ginny smirked, catching onto the girl’s game, and agreed, “Yes, he does.”  Her response caused Mika to begin sputtering incoherently.

“G-Ginny!”

“What?” asked the girl innocently.  She then leaned over and whispered into his ear, “Yours is better, if that’s any consolation.”

Mika flushed red and sputtered even more at that.  All the while his mind was screaming, She’s flirting with me!

Amanda smirked at the boy’s reaction then said to the person under the table, “You can come out now, Tom.”

“All the naked Gryffindors running around with tea cozy’s on their heads are gone?”

“ARGH!” bellowed the other three, simultaneously clutching their heads.

“Bad mental image!” yelled Amanda.

“Bad, bad!” agreed Mika and Ginny in unison.

“Sorry,” mumbled Thomas as he climbed back up into his seat, flinching away from Amanda as she lifted her hand.  “Please don’t…”

SMACK!

“…hit me,” finished Thomas, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was now pressed against the tabletop.  “Ow…”

“Serves you right,” harrumphed Ginny, glaring at him.  She then turned to the person who had come up behind her and Mika and said, “Hey, Nev.”

“’Lo,” replied Neville in his soft voice, nodding to all of them.

“Say, what was Finnegan doing running around…well, the way he was running around?” asked Mika, eying Neville curiously.

Neville fidgeted slightly before he replied, “Well – Fred and George smuggled in a few crates of butterbeer (“CRATES!” exclaimed Ginny) from Hogsmeade.  Then they started playing some game called Truth or Dare…”

“What?” asked Mika, Ginny, and Thomas.”

“Muggle game,” explained Amanda.  “Go on, Nev.”

“Then they got a bit – er – tipsy.  I left before anything bad could happen.”

“Too late,” chorused the four blandly.

“So you don’t know who dared him?” asked Thomas

“Do we really want to?” moaned Ginny as Neville shook his head.

“Fred or George most likely,” said Mika.

“Who else would dare him to do something like that?” asked Amanda, looking at her friends.

“Speak of the devil,” muttered Mika suddenly, causing Amanda to look around frantically.

“The devil?  Really?  Where?”

“Not that devil,” admonished Thomas.  “Those devils.”  He pointed towards the twins, who had just entered the Hall.

“On damn…wait, are they – singing?”

Fred and George, staggering with their arms about each other’s necks and a bottle of butterbeer in their free hands, were indeed singing.  By some miracle, they were in unison.  Off key but definitely in unison.

“Sometime I run…hic…sometimes I hide…”

“Oh dear God, no,” breathed Amanda.  “Not that.  Oh anything but that!”

“What?” asked Thomas, giving her a bewildered look.

“Britney.  Spears,” ground out the girl, scowling darkly at the twins.

“Sometimes I’m…hic…scared of you…”

“Who?” asked Mika.

“Some American singer,” muttered Neville absently.

“But all I really want…hic!”

“SOMEONE STOP THEM!” screamed Amanda, clapping her hands over her ears.  “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL SANE THINGS, STOP THEM!”

“I sense she had something against this Britney Spears,” mused Thomas.  Neville nodded then yelped and ducked as Niamh (who had been sleeping on top of her Charms book all this time) lifted her head.  She peered about with dark-circled eyes before her gaze fell on Ginny.

“Who’s doing that infernal singing?” she growled, drawing her wand from her pocket.

Mika, Ginny, Thomas, Amanda, and Neville all solemnly pointed towards the twins.  Niamh followed their pointing fingers until her eyes landed on them.

“Ginny?”

“Yes?” moaned the redhead.

“May I brutalize your brothers?”

“Please!”

Niamh smiled a malicious smile, an evil glint in her eyes, and rose to her feet.  At her rising, everyone in the Hall ducked, not wanting to get in the way of whatever hex or curse the Lady Hex unleashed.

The dark-haired girl flicked her wand in an odd pattern then jabbed it in the twin’s direction, hissing, “Obvolvo!”

Something like paper rushed through the air and the twins singed was abruptly cut off.  As Niamh took her seat with a satisfied smirk on her face, heads slowly began to ruse about the Hall.  Laughter erupted immediately as what the Lady Hex had done to the twins was seen.

They both were – to the amazement of all – still in one piece.  However, they were both wrapped tightly in duct tape with only their dazed blue eyes and bright red hair showing.

Amanda let out a hoot of laughter and crowed, “Duct tape!  Niamh, you are a bloody genius!”

Niamh smiled a sad sort of smile at that.

“Yes, it is a good spell, isn’t it?  I’m glad Harry thought of it.”

Amanda’s face fall and Thomas said, “Harry created that spell?”

“Yeah,” murmured Niamh softly.  “Yeah, he did.”

“Ni,” began Mika, only to have the dark-haired girl turned a furious scowl on him.

“Don’t…call…me…that,” she hissed angrily.  “They’re the only one’s who can call me that!”  With that she grabbed her books and fled, leaving her friends to stare after her.

“’They?’” repeated Thomas.

“Harry and Cedric,” mumbled Neville.

Realization flashed across Thomas’ face and he murmured, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” said Ginny.  “After what happened to Cedric, I’d be worried too.”

“She’ll be okay,” murmured Amanda, to which Mika shook his head.

“No.  She won’t be okay until Harry wakes up.  And even then…I’m not sure.”

It was Niamh’s first Christmas without Harry.  Ever since their first year, they had been together for Christmas and now her friend was lying in a coma one floor above.

It made her ill.

Christmas holidays had come and Mika had rallied everyone into staying at Hogwarts with Niamh.  Ron and Ginny had had a little trouble convincing their mother to allow them to say but the moment they had mentioned Niamh, the Weasley matriarch had agreed.  Thomas had been unable to stay due to the fact that he and his parents were going to visit relatives in Germany.  Neville had barely managed to convince his grandmother to let him stay but Amanda had stepped in and begged her until she was hoarse.  And she had convinced her.

So they were all there (well, with the exception of Thomas and Harry) to support their friend.  But they needn’t have worried.  Severus had invited Niamh to come spend Christmas with him before the holidays had begun.  When he found out that the rest were staying, he had extended the invitation to them as well.  Ron had attempted to decline but at glares from Hermione, Amanda, and Ginny, he had swiftly stopped his attempts.

“I need to go to Hogsmeade,” muttered Niamh as few days before Christmas Eve.

< And why is that, youngling? > asked Jardin.  The raven was perched on the back of the couch in the Hexer’s Corner, upon which Niamh was currently sprawled.

“I want to buy Professor Snape something.  Y’know…to thank him for inviting me to spend Christmas with him.”

Jardin gave her an amused look.

< He doesn’t need thanking, youngling.  Just you to come.  He needs the company, after all. >

“I know,” said Niamh, rolling over onto her stomach.  “But still…I feel like I should  I just don’t know what to get.”

< Ask Rebecca, > said Jardin, preening a wing.  < She knows him well. >

“Rebecca?  Professor Figg?”

< That would be her.  Unless there is another Rebecca Figg wandering around Hogwarts that I don’t know about… >

“They know each other?”

Jardin bobbed his head in response, his bronze eyes twinkling for the first time since Harry had fallen into his coma.

< Indeed, they do.  They were Aurors at the same time.  In the same squad for a few years, even.  And judging from how many times she’s been in his rooms… >

“JAR!”

< What? >

“I so don’t need to know that.”

< Sorry.  It’s nothing serious, you know. >

“JAR!  GOD!  I don’t want to know!”  Niamh then scowled at the bird and growled, “And now you’ve got me thinking about it.  Argh…”

Jardin gave her a smug look and said solemnly, < My work here is done. >

“Urgh.”  Niamh scowled at him again before she frowned and said, “But…I thought after Harry’s mum…”

< It’s got absolutely nothing to do with love, youngling, > explained Jardin.  < It’s about comfort.  You see, they’ve both lost something.  Severus lost Lily and Rebecca lost her sister Brittany.  Rebecca is one of the few people who knows about Severus being a Death Eater and his relationship with Lily.  He was in Azkaban at the time of her death and when he got out, she told him.  That’s when their little…agreement started. >

“Oh.  Thanks, Jar.  Now I can’t look at them the same again.”

< You could ask her if she would walk with you down to Hogsmeade.  I believe she was going shopping anyway… >

“Then what are we waiting for?” exclaimed Niamh, leaping off the couch.  She ran into her dorm, leaving Jardin to shake his head in amusement.

< Youngsters.  So full of life.  I do envy them. >

“I heard that,” said Niamh as she returned, a heavy green cloak pinned at her throat.  The cloak had been a birthday present from Harry and was a perfect match for his except for that fact that it had a hood and was lined with fox fur instead of silver thread.  “Let’s go then.”

< As you wish, > said Jardin, flapping over to her shoulder.  < Forward, youngling. >

Niamh nodded and touched the brick on the fireplace that opened the entrance.  She swiftly left Arx Serpens, making her way towards the stairs that led up to the first floor of the castle.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Professor Figg!”

Rebecca Figg turned at the sound of her name and smiled when she saw who it was.

“Niamh,” she said cheerfully as the Slytherin came running up to her.  “How are you?”

“Fine,” replied Niamh, slightly out of breath.  “Are you going to Hogsmeade, Professor?”

“How did you…”  Rebecca trailed off as she spotted Jardin perched on the young witch’s shoulder.  “Jardin.  How pleasant to see you out and about.”

< You as well, Rebecca. >

“I assume you told Niamh here about my little trip?”

< Who else? > asked Jardin smugly.  < She needs to buy a present for Severus. >

“For Severus?”  Rebecca gave Niamh an odd look.

“To thank him,” explained Niamh.  “For inviting me.”

“You needn’t do that, dear, but if you wish…  Let’s get going then, shall we?  We can shop together?”

“Who are you shopping for?  If I may ask.”

“You may,” said Rebecca with a smile.  “Severus and our feathered fiend here are my objects today.”

< I am not a fiend. >

“So says the fiend.  Is Severus the only person you’re looking for?”

Niamh nodded and winced as Rebecca pulled open one wing of the main doors.  A cold wind struck her full-on and she pulled her cloak closed across her belly.

“That’s cold!”

“That’s winter, m’dear,” said Rebecca with a smile.

“I hate winter,” grumbled Niamh as they set off through the snow.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Two hours later Niamh and Rebecca trudged back through the snow to Hogwarts.  Rebecca had conjured up a sled to carry their things, which was running pleasantly along behind them.  Niamh had showed so much interest in the charm that Rebecca had agreed to teach them to her.

When they entered the entrance hall, Hermione came rushing up to Niamh with a murderous expression on her face.

“Where…have…you…been?” demanded the girl, her wild, bushy hair reminding Niamh of some animal going on the attack.  “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“With Professor Figg,” replied Niamh.

< And me. >

“And Jar.  Is something wrong?”

“No,” said Hermione, relaxing.  “You just vanished on us.  We thought you might have gone to the hospital wing.  When you weren’t there, we started to worry.”

“No need to have worried, Miss Granger,” assured Rebecca.  “Niamh and I just went down to Hogsmeade to do a little overdue Christmas shopping.”

“Oh?”  Hermione arched her eyebrows at Niamh.  “For who?”

“Professor Snape.  Y’know…a assort of thank-you for inviting me to spend Christmas with him.”

“Oh.  Well, let’s see it!”

“What?” asked Niamh, dumbfounded.

“What you got!  C’mon!”

“Okay, okay…”  Niamh picked up a covered cage form the sled, which was floating now and dripping melting snow on the stones.  She smiled at Rebecca and said, “Thank you for letting me go with you, Professor.”

“A pleasure, my dear,” assured Rebecca with a warm smile.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few presents to wrap.”

“Okay.  Will you be coming to Professor Snape’s rooms for Christmas?”

Rebecca just nodded and disappeared down the corridor.  Niamh looked after her for a moment before she went into the Great Hall where Hermione was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table.

“So?  What is it?”

“I’ll show you,” said Niamh with a smile as she sat the cage on the table.  She then whisked the cover off and Hermione’s face split into a smile.

“Oh, its so sweet!  And so tiny…”

Niamh smiled and reached in through the bars of the cage to prod the tiny cat.  The little ball it had curled itself into unfolded and it bounced to its feet, blinking golden, almond-shaped eyes at the two of them.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” asked Niamh.  “I mean, he doesn’t have any pets…”

“’Course he will,” insisted Hermione.  “Who couldn’t like such a cute kitty?”

Kitty? thought Niamh.

“Okay, who are you and what did you do with Hermione?”

“Huh?  Niamh, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve never heard you say ‘kitty.’  That’s normally a thing preppy girls say.”

Hermione looked perturbed at that.

“Hey, just because I hang about with guys mostly doesn’t mean I can’t have a girly moment or two.”

“I never said you couldn’t.  It’s just weird.  Like me wearing make-up.”

Hermione giggled.

“Now that would be weird.”

“Oi!”

“Well, it would!”

“Yeah, I know.  C’mon, let’s take this little guy down to Arx Serpens.”

The cat meowed and batted at the side of the cage.

“Oh, sorry.  Girl?”

“Mrooooow.”

Hermione laughed and said, “I think that’s a ‘yes.’”

“Guess so,” said Niamh with a smile.  “C’mon.  You can help me find a box to put her in.”

When she woke on Christmas morning, Niamh bolted out of bed and was halfway across the common room before she remembered that Harry wasn’t in his bed but in the hospital wing.  She felt a pang of loss and wrapped her arms about her torso, casting a sad glance towards the Hexer’s Corner.

“Oh, Harry…” she murmured.  “I miss you.”

“Mrow?”

Niamh blinked and looked down as something landed on her bare foot.  The cat she’d bought in Hogsmeade peered up at her, one ear twitching.

“Hey, cutie.”  She leaned down and picked up the tiny gray tabby, cuddling it.  The cat meowed and batted her hand with a paw.  “You hungry?”

“Mrow.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.  Let’s go get some breakfast then.”

“Mrow.”

Niamh chuckled and turned to walk back into her dorm, cat in hand.  She plunked the creature down on her bed then bounded over to Amanda’s bed, leaping onto the sleeping girl with a laugh.  Amanda let out a little shriek and tried to scramble away.  She then saw who it was and shoved her away.

“Niamh!”

Niamh grinned cheekily and chirped, “Good morning, sunshine.  Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas,” mumbled Amanda.  “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Oh, c’mon, Amanda!  It’s Christmas!  Let’s go.”

“Okay, okay…I’m up.”

“Yay!” yipped Niamh, jumping off of her bed.  She bounced back over to her own and threw open her trunk.  “Hey, Hed!  Hedwig!”

The black snake slithered out from under the bed and blinked blearily up at the dark-haired girl.

“Humans…insane.”

< The snake just called you insane, you know, > said Jardin, flapping his wings.

“Well, good morning to you too,” said Niamh, smiling at the raven.  Ever since the trip to Hogsmeade he had taken to roosting in her dorm instead of the Owlery.  “Now turn around, Jar.”

< What? >

“I’m changing.”

< So? >

“Jar,” growled Niamh and the raven sighed mentally.

< Fine, fine.  I’m turning. >

“Thank you.”

“Very much,” said Amanda as she climbed out of bed.  “It’s weird enough having you in here when we change.”

Jardin hunched down on his perch on Niamh’s headboard and rustled his feathers irritably.

< I never have to do this with Harry. >

“Harry’s a guy,” said Niamh and Amanda in unison.

< How observant of you.  Give the girls a Kewpie. >

“Mrow?” said the cat, blinking up at the raven.

Jardin turned his head over his shoulder to glare at the cat.

<Don’t even think about it, cat. >

“Jar!” shrieked Amanda, covering herself with her cloak.

< Sorry! >

Niamh just shook her head and finished pulling on a turtleneck.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Happy Christmas, Professor!”

Severus blinked then smiled as he saw Niamh half hanging into his office.

“Happy Christmas, Niamh.  How are you?”

“Fine, sir,” replied Niamh, sidling into his office.

“No, really, child.  How are you?”

Niamh blinked then dropped the happy charade, a frown slipping onto her features.  She looked up at her Head of House and muttered, “Not at all well, sir.  I miss him.”

Severus smiled gently at her and said, “As do I.  But today is not a day to be sad.  It’s Christmas, child.  One of the most joyous times of the year.”

“Hard to be joyous, sir.  If I might say so.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” said Severus.  He rose from behind his desk and walked over to her, easing her out into the corridor as he closed the door to his office.  “But come.  Let us drown our troubles in the joy’s of Christmas and Albus’ eccentricities.”

Niamh chuckled and said, “I’m sure the Headmaster wouldn’t be thrilled at you calling him eccentric.”

Severus just laughed and said, “Ha!  That old man would delight in it.  Now come.  If I’m not mistaken, Rebecca will already be waiting for us.  And what of your friends?”

“Well, Amanda is going to wake up Ginny before she comes down here and Mika is supposed to go get Ron, Hermione, and Neville.”

“I see.  And they know to come down here, do they not?”

“Yes, sir.  But they don’t know where.”  Niamh blinked and added, “Even I don’t know where!”

Severus smiled down at her and said, “You’re about to find out.”  He muttered something in a language that Niamh thought she recognized.  She had heard Harry speaking it once…

“Huh?  Oh!” exclaimed Niamh as part of the wall in front of them slid away.  “A hidden entrance!”

Severus smiled and gave Niamh a gentle push forward, saying, “You head on in.  I believe all of your gifts and your friends are inside.  I’ll wait here for them.”

“Oh, okay.”  Niamh wandered on into his rooms and saw Rebecca standing over the fireplace, prodding the logs inside with a poker.  “Hello, Professor.”

“Oh.  Happy Christmas, Niamh,” said Rebecca with a smile.  “Where are the others?”

“They’re coming.  Holy Hades!  Are these all the presents?”

Rebecca smirked at the very large pile of presents sitting at the base of the small tree she had made Severus put up.  “Yes, I believe they are.  Have a seat, dear.  It might be a while before everyone is down here if I know anything about Ronald Weasley.”

Niamh laughed at that.

“Mione’ll get him up.  Trust me.”

Rebecca smiled and said, “I suppose I shall have to.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Presents!” crowed Ginny an hour and a half later after they all had treated themselves to the small feast Dobby and two other house-elves had brought them.

“Yes, yes,” said Severus.  “One at a time.  Much less hassle.”

“Severus, why don’t you have them out?” asked Rebecca.

“Me?  Well, alright…Miss Weasley, I believe this one is yours.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ginny as she took the proffered gift.  She ripped it open then grinned at Mika as she hugged a stuffed dragon close.  “Thanks, Mik!”

Mika flushed a slight pink and mumbled, “Welcome.”

Severus smiled slightly at the interaction between the two of them then picked up another gift.

“Miss Granger…”

“Oh!  Thank you, sir.”  Her expression saddened as she saw Harry’s familiar scrawl on the package.  When she opened it she found a note and a book on Charms.  Unfolding the note, she saw Harry’s spidery scrawl again.

Happy Christmas, Mione,

Hope you like surprises.  Just say ‘Magus’ over the book and you’ll get a big one.  But don’t do it in the presence of any teachers.  They’d confiscate it for sure.

Curious yet?

Merry studying,

Harry

Hermione smiled and tucked the note into her pocket.  She was definitely curious about what sort of book her friend would have sent her.

“Ah…Mister Weasley.  This is yours if I don’t mistake your mother’s handwriting.”

“Oh no,” groaned Ron, taking the package.  He opened it and held up a maroon sweater.  “Not again!”

Ginny chuckled and said, “You should tell her to stop sending maroon one’s.”

“I can’t!  She’d kill me!”

Ginny and Severus both laughed at that as Severus handed a gift to Mika.  The white-haired boy ripped the package open – which was from his father – to reveal what looked like a Foe-Glass.  He shook his head and muttered, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Heh,” said Severus, shaking his head as well.  He then handed a package to Rebecca before tossing a small one to Amanda, who deftly caught it.  Things went on like this for a while before there were only two gifts left; one for Severus and one for Niamh.

“There are holes in this box,” said Severus as he held it up, frowning at it.  He then looked at Niamh and asked, “What sort of creature have you put in here?  Not something of Hagrid’s, I hope.”

The dark-haired girl just laughed and replied, “Just open it, sir!”

Severus arched an eyebrow at her and said, “Ah, cryptic are we?  Well, then…”  He opened the top of the box and was immediately leapt upon by the tiny gray tabby.  “What in Merlin’s name…?”

“It’s a cat, Professor,” said Hermione.

“I can see that, Miss Granger.  And what made you think I needed such a creature, Niamh?”

Niamh shrugged and replied, “I thought she could keep you company, sir.  After all, most wizard have a pet and you don’t.”

“Hmm.  A ‘she’ is it?  Well then.  I suppose I’ll have to think up a name.”  He patted the cat’s head then nodded at the gift sitting on Niamh’s lap.  “Open that then.  I want to see what it is.”

“Who’s it from?” asked Mika, trying to peer over Niamh’s shoulder.

“It…it’s from Harry,” breathed the girl.  She stared down at the package for a moment before she slowly and very carefully removed the wrapping.  A moment later she was gaping down at the stereo her best friend had been working on for the entirety of the year before.  “Oh Slytherin…Harry, you ruddy bastard!  I can’t believe it!”

“Isn’t that a radio?” asked Rebecca.

“How do you know what a radio is, Becca?” asked Severus, frowning at her.

“My mother does live as a Muggle, Severus.  She happens to own a few.  They don’t work but she owns some.”

“Ah.”

“I thought Muggle eclectricy didn’t work here,” said Ron.

“It’s el-ec-tric-ity, Ron,” corrected Amanda.  “Electricity.”

“Whatever.”

“It will work in the castle,” breathed Niamh as she lifted the stereo free of its wrapping, revealing two CD’s taped to the bottom of it.  “He was working on it for a year, trying to get it to run off magic instead of electricity.  I…I guess he finished it.”

“What are those?” asked Hermione, peering at the CD’s.

“Uh…ooo!”

“What?” asked Ginny.

“NIN!  Let me up, I have to go kiss him!”

“NIN?” said Neville.

“Nine Inch Nails,” explained Amanda.  “What’s the names?”

“The Downward Spiral and Pretty Hate Machine.  Mmm, this is gonna be good.”

“Very interesting, Miss O’Feir,” said Severus but now I believe it is time for lunch.  We have been down here opening these presents for an hour.”

“I’m hungry,” mumbled Ron as they all started to leave.

“That’s the point of going to eat, silly,” quipped Hermione, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.

Niamh laughed and said, “C’mon, Mione, you know we have to explain everything to Ron.”

“True,” said Neville softly, earning a laugh from the others – including small chuckles from Severus and Rebecca’s vicinity.

It took Ron a few moments before he processed what had been said.

“Hey…”

“Oh, shut up and let’s go eat!” said Mika, giving the taller boy a playful shove forward.

“Why has it take you so long to contact me, boy?  You have been there for nearly four months.”

“I was side-tracked, Master.  Forgive me for my negligence.”

“Forgiven.  Now…what of our friend Mister Potter?”

“He is in a coma, Master.  I placed him there myself.”

“By purpose?  I wanted you to look into his eyes as you killed him.  Betrayal is so much sweeter that way.”

“Forgive me, Master.  I was trying to get into the castle.  He got in the way of my spell.”

“I see.  Very well.  Kill him.”

“Now, Master?”

“Not at this very moment, no.  Wait a while longer.  A month perhaps.”

“Perhaps…perhaps I should wait longer, Master.”

There was a pause.

“And why is that, my spy?”

“There is a girl.  She may suspect something.”

“Let her.  It will make Potter’s death all that much sweeter.”

“Yes, Master.”

There was a sudden knock at the door and a tall, lean figure crouched by the lit fireplace of the Slytherin common room stood.  They were cloaked completely in shadows.

“Hey,” said a voice on the other side of the door, “whoever’s in there had better open this door.  People need to get out, you know.”

“A student, I presume?” said a voice from the fireplace, one of the one’s that had been speaking earlier.  The figure nodded in response.

“Yes, Master.  Shall I dispatch him?”

“No.  Fine something better.  And do not fail me, boy.  I do not take kindly to it.”

“Yes, Master.  Potter will die at my hand.”

There was a surprised yelp from the other side of the door and the shadowy figure strode over to it, wrenching the heavy piece of wood open, dispelling the spells that had been placed on it to keep it closed.

Thomas Ymber saw a flash of purple eyes shot through with blue lightning before a wand was shoved into his face

“Imperio!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

You’re right on time so…

“Who did you say this is, again?”

“Theory of a Deadman.”

Invite me in, this is where…

“Weird name.  Good singing though.”

“Wait till you hear NIN.  The kick ass.”

Your trouble begins…

“Really?  Sounds wicked.”

“Oh, they are.”

“Why don’t you put them in?”

“Wanna listen to Deadman.”

“Oh.”

But I like you better…

BANG!  BANG!  BANG!

“O’Feir, cut it out!”

            Than the other one’s…

Niamh smirked at Ginny, who was sitting across from her on Amanda’s bed.  The redhead giggled as the older girl’s smirk spread into a mischievous grin.

“What’s wrong, Malfoy?” she called tauntingly.  “Can’t you hear it?”  On ‘hear it’ she reached over and turned the volume on the boom box up.

            You say I’m right…

“O’FEIR!”

Niamh chuckled and turned the volume back down.  She grinned at Ginny as she said, “I think he likes it.”

“I agree,” said the redhead.  “Shall we let him hear more?”

“Certainly.”

            When you know I’m wrong…

“O’FEEEEIIIIRRRR!!!”

Niamh and Ginny fell into a fit of giggles as Draco bellowed out his distaste for rock music for the full hour after that.

He was still going when Ginny left the fifth year girl’s dorm for her own.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Hey, kid.  C’mon, Harry, wake up.  Time to get up and moving.”

“Mmm,” mumbled Harry and rolled away from the person who was shaking him.  “Doan wanna…”

There was a heavy sigh and then sharp teeth nipped his ear.  Harry let out a yelp and scrambled away, one fist lashing out as his other arm shielding his face.

“Whoa!” yelled Tany, ducking under his fist as she completed her Shift from wolf to human.  “Easy there!”

Harry lowered his arm and glared venomously at her.  “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, but I have to wake you up.  We’re about there, you know.”

“About where?” grumbled Harry, looking perturbed as he rubbed at his ear, which had the indent of a fang in it near the bottom.  “You bloody well nearly pierced my ear!”

“Good look for you.  And you mum’s, of course.”

Harry froze for a moment at her words then leapt to his feet, crying, “Well, what are we waiting for?  Let’s go!  How far is it?  How much longer will it take to get there?”

“Easy now, easy,” said Tany with a gentle laugh.  “It’s just over the hill up ahead.  C’mon.”  She grabbed his hand and began to walk slowly towards the hill.

“So…”

“So what?”

“So…is James here too?”

“Of course,” said Tany.  “Generally he’s out wandering about the woods and greets guests before they even get close to the ho - ”

“Tany!” exclaimed a man’s voice from their left and the two of them turned to see a tall, gangly man with wild black hair and glasses coming towards them.  He was grinning lopsidedly and waving at them.

“Great to see you again!” exclaimed James, grinning widely at Tany.  He then looked at Harry and frowned.  “And who are you?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer but Tany jabbed her elbow into his ribs and asked, “Don’t you recognize him, James?”

James frowned and peered curiously at Harry, who – the teen noticed – was about a head and a half shorter than he was.  He shifted nervously at the close inspection of his person.  Not that he wasn’t used to staring, it just made him uneasy.  Like he was being watched to see if he was going to steal anything.

“You…” began James.  “You look a bit like Snape.  Just a little here and there then the rest is…Merlin’s beard.”  Brown eyes met green and James gasped, “HARRY?”

Harry smiled sheepishly and waved.

“Hi.”

“You…you aren’t dead, are you?  Please tell me…”

“He’s not dead, James,” assured Tany.  “Just in a coma.”

“Thank Merlin,” breathed James.  He stared at Harry in slight disbelief and said, “It seems like yesterday that you were in Lily’s arms.  How long has it been?”

“Fourteen years,” replied Harry.  “I’ll be sixteen next July.  Or this July if New Year’s has passed.”

“Merlin,” breathed James again.  He then broke out into a grin and entrapped the teen in a bear hug.  “Come,” he said after releasing him, “Lily’ll want to see you.”

Harry started to say something but never got the chance as James began to drag him down the rest of the hill towards the tiny house that sat in the little dip at the bottom of it.  Tany tagged along behind them, a satisfied smile on her face.

James threw open the front door of the house and bellowed, “Lily!  I have something to show you!”

“What is it this time?” asked a woman huffily as she came into the room, drying her hands on a towel.  Her crimson hair caught a bit of the sunlight streaming in through the windows and Harry’s breath froze in his throat.  His mother was standing a few feet away from him, as real as James’ hand on his arm and Tany’s presence at his back.

Lily dropped the towel as she saw him and clasped her hands over her mouth.  Her eyes caught his and emerald stared into emerald.

“Harry?”

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.

Lily slowly crossed the room, her eyes on him the entire time.  She reached up a slim hand to touch his cheek, allowing Harry to see where his own slim hands had come from.  He had thought they were hers (as his father’s were broad) and now he knew it for truth.

“My baby…” she whispered, the same words that her ‘ghost’ has whispered when it had come out of Voldemort’s wand.  Harry shivered at the memory and reached out to touch her, to make sure that she was really there.

His fingertips touched the bare flesh of her forearm and he whispered desperately, “Mum…”

“Oh, Harry!” gasped Lily and drew him into a tight embrace.  Harry returned it whole-heartedly, not wanting to let go for fear that she might disappear.

“Let’s leave them alone for a while,” whispered James to Tany, drawing the Shifter out of the room.  “Better that way.”

Tany nodded and followed him without protest.

Lily and Harry never noticed.

“Oh my baby,” whispered Lily.  “I’m so sorry.  I’ve missed everything, haven’t I?”

“I’m okay,” said Harry softly, knowing innately that she’d see right through him and see that he wasn’t okay.  Mother’s had that ability.  “Scarred but okay.  I’ve got Da, after all.”

Lily did notice but didn’t say anything.  Instead she said, “Severus?  He knows?”

Harry nodded solemnly and Lily closed her eyes.

“I tried to many times to write him, to tell him that he was going to be a father.  Not a one got finished.”  She pulled back from him and looked up into his face.  “Tell me everything.  Including where these scars came from.”

Harry nodded, knowing she was referring to the scars on his hands.  He just hoped she didn’t ask to see his others.  It might send her off hunting Argil, wherever the bastard had gone after he’d died.

“I will, Mum.  I will.”

Lily smiled at those words and took his hands in her own, leading him over to the couch.

“Now…begin at the beginning…”

“How dare Albus let you grow up like that!  Foolish old man!  If he had but asked Severus, he would have known not to trust my sister with anything!”

“He couldn’t ask him,” said Harry quickly, trying to cool his mother’s ire – which was proving that he didn’t get his temper just from his father.  “Da was in Azkaban.”

“What?  What was he doing in Azkaban?”

“He got caught.  Aurors got him during a raid that was meant to capture Lucius Malfoy.”

“The same raid Tany was killed in,” whispered Lily.  “She never said he was taken to Azkaban, just the he was captured.”

“Well she was dead before then, wasn’t she?”  Harry winced as the words came out rather harshly and mumbled, “Sorry.”

Lily smiled gently and reached out to caress his cheek, her thumb rubbing against his somewhat pronounced cheekbones.

“Its okay.  You’ve got a mix of our temper’s I see.  And your father’s cheekbones.”

“And his hair, height, build…”

“My nose thankfully…”

“Your eyes…”

“His face, my jaw…”

“So,” said Harry with a smirk, “a thorough mix of you both?”

“A thorough mix indeed,” agreed Lily.  “And his smirk.”  She shook her head and continued, “Now I know why I never had the heart to cast a charm on you to make you look like Jamie.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re too handsome to change your looks.  Though you should grow your hair out.  Short hair never looked good on Sev and it doesn’t look quite right on you.”

“You should have seen it on the streets,” said Harry with a wry grin.

“Tell me about them.  Did you have anyone to take care of you?”

Harry nodded and began to tell his mother everything about that time.  He told her about Abram, who had found him in a cold alley.  About Evan and Lyla, who had been like surrogate parents before their deaths.  About Tyls, who had been like a brother.  Cal and Leo, the twins who had at once been defender and attacker.  He told her about them all, all the children that Argil had taken in to fill his pockets with stolen cash.  He told her of Cal, Leo, and Nyv’s murders by Argil.  Of Abram’s drunken tendencies.  Everything.

Lily’s fist stayed clenched during the whole of his telling and he paused just before he told of his meeting Mrs. Weasley in the Leaky Cauldron.  He reached out and laid his hand over hers, squeezing gently.

“Mum?”

Lily looked up at him and whispered, “I’m so sorry.  You shouldn’t have had to grow up like that.”

“And Da shouldn’t have been forced into being a Death Eater.  We can’t change the past, Mum.  I’m not even sure I would if I could.”

“Harry…” began Lily.

“No,” said Harry sternly, eyes shining.  “I wouldn’t.  Even if we could have lived together, had been a real family, I wouldn’t.  What I learned on the streets has saved me and my friends too often.  If I hadn’t learned what I did, I might not have been able to have done what I’ve done.”

Lily nodded at his confession, tears in her eyes.  She understood what he was saying.

“Tell me about your friends,” she said suddenly.  “What are they like?  What House are they in?”  She frowned and added, “What House are you in, for that matter?  Is there a girl?”

“Slow down, Mum!” exclaimed Harry, laughing.  “I’ll get to them.”

“Start back where you left off then.  You found the Cauldron…”

“And then Mrs. Weasley found me.”

“Now after that…”

“I’m getting there, Mum, I’m getting there.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Hey, mate,” whispered Niamh to the still body on the hospital bed as she sank down into a chair.  “I ought to kill you for that Christmas present.  You ruddy bastard.”  She laughed and added, “Or maybe I should kiss you!  Harry, mate, you are full of surprises.”

Harry’s still form didn’t move and Niamh smiled, leaning on the edge of the bed.

“Somehow I keep expecting you to reply.  I know your not here but…I don’t know, I expect you to be here.”  She sighed and reached out to clench his unresponsive fingers in her own.

“You had better come back,” she hissed savagely.  “I hope some part of you can hear me, Harry.  ‘Cause if you don’t come back…well, I’ll just have to figure out a way to bring you back, won’t I?  I am a telepath after all.  I’m sure with a little practice and Jar’s help I could pry you back into consciousness.”  She shrugged and added softly, “It might take a few years but I’m certain I could do it…”

“Who?”

“Huh?”

Niamh blinked and stared at the owl sitting on the end of the bed.  A letter was tied to its leg and it was blinking at her.

“Hey there, you.  Who’s the letter for?”

“T’who?” replied the owl, tilting its head to the side.

Niamh sighed and muttered, “Now I’m expecting owl’s to talk to me.  Too much time around Jar.  C’mere little bird…”

“Who,” said the owl and hopped away from her.

“Hey!  Give me the letter, little owl.  Is it for Harry?”

“Who!  Who!” cried the owl, flapping its wings.

“Okay, okay,” said Niamh.  “Calm down.  Will you let me have the letter?  I’m a friend of Harry’s.”

The owl looked at her skeptically for a moment then held out its leg.  Niamh pumped her fist in the air in success then reached out to untie the letter.  She pulled a slightly dry piece of bread from her pocket and said, “Um, this is from breakfast.  It’s all I’ve got…”

“Who?” said the owl, eying the piece of bread hungrily.  Niamh handed it over and the owl gulped it down before it launched itself into the air, flying out of the hospital wing.

“So,” said Niamh as soon as it was gone, “let’s see who this is from, shall we?”

She unfolded the letter and flicked her eyes down to the signature.  Her eyes grew wide as she saw who if was from.

“Sirius!”

Harry,

I’m sorry I haven’t written sooner.  This is the first chance I’ve gotten.  Been busy, you know.  How has the year been so far?  Good?  How about Snape?  If he starts being a bastard, you tell me.  I’ll set him straight for you.  And attempt not to have too much bloodshed.  Promise.

I want you to know that I’m safe.  I know you were worried about me after the Tri-wizard Tournament and I wanted to assure you that I’m not in any sort of trouble.  Well, besides the trouble I’m already in from the Ministry but you know about that.

Stay safe, kid.  And try not to get into too much mischief.

Sirius

P.S. Tell Niamh and the rest ‘hello’ for me.

“Oh no,” breathed Niamh.  They had never told Sirius about Harry being in his coma!  Hell, they hadn’t told anyone.

But they should have at least told Sirius.

The dark-haired girl sighed and looked at her friend’s still form sadly.

“Looks like I’m going to have to break the news to Sirius.  This isn’t going to be pretty…”

She rose slowly from her seat and patted Harry’s hand before she left to go find some parchment and a quill.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Sirius,

It’s Niamh.  I got your letter that you sent to Harry.  You see…he’s somewhat out of reach at the moment.  There was an accident at the beginning of the year and well – Harry got knocked into a coma.

I’m sorry that we didn’t owl you and tell you sooner but in all our trying to keep the news away from the Daily Prophet and the Ministry, I guess we forgot.  Please don’t come back here just because of this.  Harry wouldn’t want you to risk it.  Neither would I, for that matter.

Madam Pomfrey says that Harry may wake up before the school year is through.  But we’re not sure.  We all hope that she will be right.

Harry’s safe right where he is.  So you keep with what you said in your letter and keep yourself safe.  Or else I’ll send you an owl with a hex in it.

Niamh

Niamh reread over her letter as she made her way up to the Owlery to send it off.  She just hoped Sirius would listen to her and wouldn’t be stubborn and come back from…wherever he was.

As she made her way up the last few steps, she heard something.  Pausing to listen, her jaw dropped when she realized what it was.

Parseltongue.  She had heard Harry speaking it enough to recognize it.

But…Harry was the only Parselmouth in the school.  Probably the only one in the wizarding world beside Voldemort.

So who…?

Niamh crept slowly up the rest of the steps, carefully to avoid the spots in them that creaked.  She peered into the Owlery and blinked when she saw who it was that was speaking.

“Ginny?!” she exclaimed, stepping up into the tower.

The redhead looked up with a horrified expression on her face and yelped, “Niamh!  Oh Merlin…I…”

“You were speaking Parseltongue,” said Niamh, staring at the younger girl.  “To Hedwig.”

Ginny nodded slowly, looking down at the black snake that was curled up on her knee.  “Yeah…”

“How?  I thought Harry was the only Parselmouth…”

“He was,” said Ginny softly.  “Until Tom took me over, that is.  He…he transferred a bit of himself into me.  He had to, to open the Chamber.”  She looked fearfully up at the other girl then looked away quickly.

Niamh sank down onto the floor beside the girl and said, “Gin, I’m not mad about it, if that’s what your thinking.  Its just…why didn’t you tell us before?”

“I was afraid.  You saw how everyone treated Harry after we found out he was one!  I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me.”

“Oh, Gin,” breathed Niamh.  “You know we’d have kept it a secret.”

“I wasn’t worried about you guys,” whispered Ginny, absently stroking Hedwig’s head.  “I knew you and Mik wouldn’t mind.  And Hermione wouldn’t either.”

“You were worried about Ron.”

“He’s already been against me once!  I didn’t want him to hate me again.”

Niamh smiled and said, “He didn’t hate you, Gin.  He…hell, he’s a Gryff!  You know most of them jump right on into something without asking questions.”

“Harry’s like that.”

“Harry’s got Gryff tendencies.  And he doesn’t jump into everything without asking questions.”

“Most things.”

“Okay, most things.  But your brother…you know how he is, Gin.  He jumps to conclusions too fast.  And he never hated you then.  He just…he didn’t want to see his little sister as a Slytherin.”

Ginny frowned and said, “You and Harry are Slyth’s and he didn’t mind.”

“He minded Harry in the beginning.  Harry told me so.  And we’re different.  We’re not blood relatives.  You’re his sister.  Not just some friend.  Y’get what I’m saying?”

“I think so.  But…what if he blows up on me?”

“We’ll get Mione to tell him.  Y’know she’ll knock him down quick.”

Ginny chuckled and said, “Yeah.  What’s that?”

“Letter.”

“For who?”

“Sirius.  He sent Harry a letter.”

“Oh no!  We never told him!”

“I know,” said Niamh, looking downcast.  “I feel bad about it.”

“We didn’t have time to think about him.”

“I know.  Still feel bad.”  Niamh heaved a sigh and added, “Let me send this off and we can head back down to Serpens.  Tell Mik and the rest if their down there.”

“What about Hermione?” asked Ginny.  “And Neville.  Shouldn’t we tell him too?”

“I’ve got Potions first with both of them tomorrow.  I’ll tell one and get them to inform the other one.  ‘Kay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”  Niamh whispered something to the school owl on her arm then sent it soaring out the window.  “Let’s head down then.”

Nighttime at Hogwarts.  All of the soul’s in the castle were tucked safely into their beds.  They all slept peacefully.

Or perhaps not all…

The hospital wing doors creaked open and a shadowy figure slipped in.  It looked around then slowly crept towards the only occupied bed.

Swoooosh!

Silver glinted as a dagger was drawn from a sheath somewhere upon the shadowy figure’s body.  They continued to creep forward, raising to dagger high.  The muscles in their arm knotted to deliver a deathblow…

“Mmm,” mumbled a sleeping Niamh, shifting her position.  She was curled up on the edge of the bed, her head pillowed on Harry’s chest.  One arm was thrown haphazardly over his stomach whilst the other was curled in his dark hair.

The figure lowered the dagger and slipped back into the shadow.

Swoosh.

The dagger was sheathed as the figure crept back out of the hospital wing, closing the door carefully behind it.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“The girl was there, Master.  I could not kill Potter with her there.  She was lying right next to him…”

“I do not care for your excuses, boy.  I want Potter dead.  Kill the girl if you must.”

“But, Master, we need not kill anyone else…”

“SILENCE!  You piece of rotted flesh!  I made you and you will obey me.  Or you will suffer the consequences.”

The shadowy figure bowed before the fire.

“Yes, Master.”

“Better.  Perhaps you need a bit of help.  That Ymber boy could be used…”

“Perhaps more…professional…help, Master?  Ymber fights.  Even now.”

A pause.

“There is no chance that he will break free, of course.”

“Of course, Master.  He simply rants and raves.  But I am stronger.”

“Good, good.  Perhaps we can get Severus to assist you…”

“I do not trust him, Master.”

“Nor do I, boy.  It is well you do not trust him.  He betrayed me once.  He may very well do it again.  Let us test him.”

“And if he fails?”

“One less nuisance for me to worry about.”

A grin spread across the shadowy face.

“Yes, Master…”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Severus was playing a game of chess with Dumbledore when the Call came.  He was just about to make his move when pain from the Mark ripped through his arm.  A tiny whimper escaped him as he was unready for the pain and he flinched.  He hated showing weakness.  It was a product of growing up in Knockturn Alley and living with his father.

Not to mention surviving the Death Eater ranks.

“Forgive me, Albus,” he gasped through clenched teeth.  “Our game shall have to be postponed.”

Dumbledore just nodded gravely and said, “Go.”

Severus fled.

He left the castle as quickly as possible, heading towards the gate.  When he got there, he touched a stone in one of the huge columns that held the hinges for the gates.  The stone slid aside and he grabbed the black robes and stark white mask that had been hidden there.  Drawing on robe and mask, he stepped off the grounds and Apparated.

When he Disapparated, it was at Voldemort’s very feet.  He dropped to his knees and bent to kiss the hem of the madman’s robes.  His stomach threatened to revolt and expel the meal he’d eaten a hour earlier but he forced it to calm.

Then he noticed that he was the only Death Eater there.

A shiver of icy fear flickered through him.  This could not be a good sign.

“Severus,” purred Voldemort.  “Your reflexes have slipped in their potency.  Years ago you would have been here in an instant.  Now it takes you five minutes.”

“I cannot Apparate from inside the Hogwarts wards, my lord.  Forgive me.”

“Ah, forgiveness.  Yes, there is a question of what I should do with you, Severus.  Your actions of late have been very suspicious.”

Severus’ breath froze in his throat.

Don’t say anything about Harry, he prayed.  Don’t say…

“Particularly your relationship with Harry Potter.”

Bugger and blast.

“Lucius tells me that he stayed with you for a time last year.  He and a girl.  Would you care to explain this strange occurrence, Severus?”

“My lord,” said Severus, keeping his voice flat.  “Dumbledore forced me to look after the pair.  The girl is Potter’s friend.”

“That does not explain why, Severus.”

“Dumbledore does not trust Potter’s relatives, my lord.  Nor the girl’s.  Since I am their Head of House, Dumbledore decided that I should care for them.”

“I see.  This odd sort of loyalty you have to Dumbledore is disturbing as well.”

“My lord, I…”

“CRUCIO!”

Severus’ world exploded in a familiar flood of nerve-wracking pain.  As the curse raced through him, his mind slipped away from the pain.  It was a trick he had learned in his days in the Knockturn Alley orphanage.  When he had been beaten up severely by the larger boys, it had been a blessing.

In Voldemort’s court, it had been a lifesaver.

It also never allowed him to scream.  Which gave him a certain amount of respect from the Dark Lord.

“Still not screaming, I see,” said Voldemort as he released the curse.  “Very good.  I like consistency.”  A pause.  “Unless it is one of failure, of course.”

“Of course, my lord,” coughed Severus, bringing himself back.  “You are very wise.”

“Any you, my potion maker, are still as sly as ever.  Now…I have a job for you.”

“A job, my lord?  I will do all I can to serve.”

Voldemort smiled a cold smile and said, “I am glad to hear it.  Now your job shall be to…”

Severus’ brain suddenly screamed that something was wrong.

“…kill Harry Potter.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Severus, slamming the door shut on the part of him mind that had started to scream.  “It shall be done.”

“Very good.  I hope you do not fail me, Severus.  The consequences will be dire if so.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Go.”

Severus bowed low and Apparated back to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds.  He removed the robe and mask and tucked them back into their hiding place before he started across the grounds.

Kill Harry.  Kill my son.

Never!

Severus nodded to himself.  He could never killed Harry.  He loved the boy for Slytherin’s sake!  Hell, he had even come to like Hermione and Ron.

And he had never liked Gryffindors.

Minus Lily, of course.  She was always more Slytherin than Gryffindor anyway.

Except for that damned courageous spirit of hers.  A spirit that her son – their son – had inherited.

“Severus?”

Severus looked up to see Flitwick standing there.  The tiny professor was frowning at him.

“Are you quite alright?”

“Fine, Filius,” muttered Severus.  “What are you doing up this late?”  It seemed an hour had passed since he had been Called.  That curse must have lasted longer than he thought…

“I could ask you the same thing,” replied Flitwick with a smile.

Severus shrugged and said, “I was Called.  Nothing more.”

“I see.”  Flitwick had a worried look now.  ‘What did he want?”

He wants me to kill my own son!

“Nothing,” was Severus’ actual reply.  He dared not reveal his and Harry’s relationship to anyone else.  Especially not out in the open where prying ears could hear.

“Ah,” said Flitwick, not looking as though he believed the dark wizard.  “I’ll let you go on your way then.”  He started to move away and then Severus threw a question at his back.

“Where are you going, Filius?”

“Hospital wing,” came the reply.

“To see Harry?” asked Severus.

“Yes.  I am trying to find a charm that will wake him.  I’ve heard that he was made up a few of his own but no one seems to be able to tell me any of them.  Do you know anyone who might know?”

“Inquire with Miss O’Feir.  I suppose the students do not call them the Lord and Lady Hex for nothing.”

Flitwick smiled.

“No, I suppose they don’t.  Well…goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight.”

Severus sighed and continued on to his rooms, where he was immediately set upon by the little kitten that Niamh had given him.  It clawed at his ankle until he bent down with a sigh and picked it up.

“You are a most annoying creature.”

“Mrow?” said the kitten.

“Indeed.  What is it you want?”

“Mrow,” repeated the kitten, gnawing on a digit of his fingers.  He could barely feel the tiny teeth pricking his skin.

“A name perhaps?”

“Mrr-ow!”

“Fine.  I’ll call you…Cat.  That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

“Mrow.”

“Infernal creature,” growled Severus as the kitten continued to gnaw at his fingers.

He sank down into a chair by the fire and sighed, absently petting the kitten in his lap until Sleep came and took him into her sweet arms.

After Christmas the Quidditch season returned.  Ron was still the Seeker for Gryffindor team and Mika and Niamh had finally gotten their chance to play (or at least Niamh as Mika was a reserve Beater).  Ginny as well was getting a chance as she was the only Seeker Slytherin had left.

“I’m so nervous I’m shaking,” said Ginny as they sat in the girl’s locker room before their first game.

Niamh laughed and went over to the younger girl.  They were the only two girl’s on the first string team, though when Harry returned Niamh would be the only one.

“Same here,” said the dark-haired girl.  “Look.”  She held up her hands, which were both quivering slightly.

Ginny chuckled.

“We’re silly, aren’t we?  So nervous before the game.”

“Hey, image how Harry felt!  He was the reserve at first, remember?  He just got pulled into the game!”

“And became the first string Seeker because Terrence was injured.”

“Hey!” came a voice from beyond the door.  “You two ready?  Its time to go!”

“Coming, Mik!” called both girl’s in unison.

“C’mon,” said Niamh, slapping Ginny’s knee.  “Let’s get out there and show what we can do.”

Ginny grinned in response and grabbed her broom, tossing Niamh the one that sat beside it.  The dark-haired girl caught it instinctively then stared at it.

“Gin…I – I can’t use this.”

“Sure you can,” said Ginny with a smile.  “Harry wouldn’t mind.  And that Cleansweep you’ve been using is as slow as a turtle.”

Niamh stared at the Firebolt, running one hand idly over the name etched in gold on it.  She then noticed something smaller carved into it.  Bringing it up to her face, she read: Harold Jamison Snape – Slytherin Seeker.  There was a little crude carving of a snitch at the end of it.

“Oh, Harry,” she murmured, clutching the broom close.  Then she looked at Ginny and said, “Let’s rock and roll.”

As she marched out of the locker room, Ginny frowned and said to the empty room, “’Rock and roll?’”

“Gin!”

“Coming!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand here we are again, professors and fellow students!  The first Quidditch game of the season: Slyyyyyyyyyyyytherin versus Gryffindooooooooooooooooooooooor!”

Cheers exploded from the stands as Lee Jordan’s voice rang through the stadium.

“And here comes the Gryffindor team!  Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Johnson, Bell, Spinnet, and the new Keeper for this year – LONGBOTTOM?!”

“NEVILLE?!” exclaimed Niamh and Ginny at the same time.

“Now for the Slytherin team!  Malfoy, Baddock, Warrington, Ymber, O’Feir, Adick, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Weasley!”

“Let’s go!” yelled Warrington, who had been unanimously elected captain of the team since he was the eldest member on it.

Niamh let out a whoop and leapt onto Harry’s Firebolt, kicking off.  She did a barrel roll as she flew out, grinning wildly as she discovered why Harry loved this broom.

Well, besides the fact that Sirius had given it to him…

It was so much fun to ride!

She flew up to her position beside Thomas, who was one of her fellow Chaser’s, bobbing in place in excitement.  After a moment she glanced upward to see Ginny and Ron glaring at each other.

Fred and George waved at her and she grinned feraly at them.

The whistle blew then and the Quaffle soared up into the air.

The game had begun.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“And it’s Ymber with the Quaffle – now O’Feir – there’s a Bludger! – and O’Feir dodges and passes to Adick! – interception! – Bell has the Quaffle – passes to Johnson – watch that Bludger Angelina!  OOO!”

The crowd echoed Lee as a Bludger hit by Malfoy slammed into Angelina’s side.  She dropped the Quaffle and Niamh swooped down to catch it deftly in one hand.  A maniacal grin on her face, she headed towards the Gryffindor goals.

Neville, to the amazement of many, held his ground before the wild visage of the Lady Hex.  And caught the Quaffle too.

Niamh shook her head and gave him a thumbs up before she launched back into the game.  Neville didn’t know whether to grin or wonder if she should really be congratulating him.

“Bell has the Quaffle – passes to Johnson – passes to Spinnet – watch out, Alicia! – back to Bell – and an interception by Adick! – he passes to O’Feir – SLYTHERIN SCORES!  10-0 Slytherin!”

Cheers went up from the green section of the stadium and Snape smirked in the teacher’s box.

“Sorry, Nev!” yelled Niamh as she circled back around the golden hoops.

“No problem!” he yelled back, grinning.

“Ymber has the Quaffle again – oo, that had to hurt! – Bell catches the Quaffle and heads for the Slytherin Keeper.  I hope Warrington’s ready for her!”

“You okay, Tom?” called Niamh to Thomas, who was clutching his shoulder.

“Fine!”

“Right.”

Niamh ducked low to the Firebolt and shot towards Angelina, who now had the Quaffle.  She dove under the older girl and came up on her left side, tapping her on the shoulder.  When she looked, Niamh swooped under her to her right side and snatched the Quaffle with both hands.  Laughing madly, she pulled the Firebolt up using only her legs and shot back down the field.

“What a steal by O’Feir!  Amazing – there go Weasley and Weasley!  The Seekers have seen the Snitch!”

Niamh considered glancing at Ginny to see if she was ahead of Ron but she could see Katie Bell coming up on her right side and dropped it.  She turned her head to grin at Katie then dove.  The Gryffindor Chaser followed and Niamh laughed.

She pulled up inches from the ground and heard the crunch of something hitting the ground behind her.  Still grinning, she zipped around the Gryffindor goals and faked a shot into the one nearest here.  Neville dipped towards it and she slammed the Quaffle home into the far ring.

“SLYTHERIN SCORES!  20-0!”

A second later there was a triumphant cry from Ginny.

“I GOT THE SNITCH!”

The Slytherin stands exploded with cheers and whoops.  Niamh and Thomas, both screaming happily, swooped over to Ginny and enveloped the younger girl in a bear hug.

“Our first match together and we win!” exclaimed Niamh.

Thomas grinned and yelled, “That’s a good sign, if any!”

Ginny laughed, happy tears streaming down her cheeks.  “I’ll vouch for that!” she yelled as she waved the captured Snitch proudly.

“You have failed me, Severus.”

“Forgive me, my lord, I…”

“Crucio!”

Severus hit the floor hard, his head cracking sharply against the stones.  His mind had just started to drift away from the pain when a second Cruciatus Curse hit him.  Immediately his mind shot back into its place and began to scream along with his nerves.

“Crucio!”

“Crucio!”

“Crucio!”

“Crucio!”

Four more curses joined Voldemort’s and the second one.  The pain, for the first time in years, became too much.

Severus screamed.

Laughter sounded on the edge of his hearing, harsh laughter. They were laughing at him.  All of them.  Laughing at his failure.

It infuriated him.

But he could nothing about it.

A few seconds after the other curses had been cast, he began to lose consciousness.  There is only so much pain that the human body can take – even one hardened by the streets – and Severus’ body had reached its breaking point.

He lost consciousness slowly, his last thought before he slipped into that dark pit was towards his comatose son miles away.

I’m sorry.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“PROFESSOR!” screamed Niamh, sitting up sharply.

“Miss O’Feir!” snapped Madam Pomfrey.  “OUT!”

“But…” began Niamh, sitting up.

“OUT!”

Niamh fled.

She turned and ran for Dumbledore’s office, to which she hoped the password Harry had used at the beginning of the year had not been changed.

“Fizzing Whizbee!” she snapped to the gargoyle as she slid to a halt in front of it.

The ugly statue seemed to leer at her and she scowled at it.

“Let me in!  I need to talk to the Headmaster!”

The gargoyle didn’t move.

“It’s important!  Professor Snape could be in trouble!”

At that the gargoyle did move.  The dark-haired girl didn’t waste a second to charge past it and up the moving staircase.  At the top, she flung herself at the door and threw it open.

“Headmaster!  Oh…”

Dumbledore and the other occupant of the office turned to blink at her.

“Miss O’Feir?” queried Dumbledore.

“Niamh?”

The Slytherin blinked and stared at the other occupant.  It took her a moment to figure out who it was as they looked very different from the last time she’d seen them.

“Sirius!” she shrieked.  “What are you doing here!  I told you not to come!”

Sirius grinned sheepishly and said, “Sorry, kid.  I had to.  Had to report anyway.”

Niamh fumed for a moment then turned on Dumbledore and said, “Sir!  Professor Snape’s in trouble!”

“Severus?” said Dumbledore in surprise as Sirius’ upper lip drew back in a sneer.

“I always knew Snape was good for nothing.”

“Sirius!” reprimanded Niamh and Dumbledore at the same time.

Dumbledore frowned at the Animagus then turned his eyes upon Niamh.  “What do you mean Severus is in trouble?”

“I was asleep in the hospital wing and I…I saw him!  I saw Voldemort torturing him!  And Malfoy’s father!  I didn’t recognize the others.”

“How did you see them?” asked Sirius.  “Only Seer’s can see that sort of thing…”

“Miss O’Feir is a telepath and empath, Sirius,” said Dumbledore gravely.  “Where were you sleeping exactly?”

Niamh flushed slightly as she said, “By Harry.”

“Where exactly?”

“Beside him.”

Sirius arched an eyebrow at that answer but Dumbledore just nodded.  He mused for a moment then asked, “Was one of your hand’s anywhere near his scar?”

Niamh frowned then replied, “I think one was.  I…I don’t know.  Is that why I saw…”

“I believe so,” said Dumbledore.  His expression was very grave as he continued, “This is very grave news.  Voldemort obviously gave Severus a task to do.”

“And he failed it,” said Sirius softly.  He clenched a fist and snarled, “He failed it and now he’s going to leave my godson without a father!”

“No!” exclaimed Niamh.  “He can’t die!  Not now!”

“We cannot conclude that Voldemort will kill him,” said Dumbledore, scowling at Sirius.  “I doubt that Voldemort suspects him of anything beyond failure.”

“And if he does?” demanded Niamh, eyes flashing.  “Sir, Harry wouldn’t make it very long without him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sirius, leaning forward.  “Harry’s a strong kid…”

“I know,” muttered Niamh.  “But…they depend on each other.  I know you’ve noticed it since Harry’s coma began, sir.  Professor Snape has been snappier than ever.”

“I have noticed, Miss O’Feir.  Do not worry.  We will get Severus back.”

“I hope so,” muttered Niamh.  “I suppose I’ll go now…”

“Want some company?” asked Sirius, rising from his seat.

Niamh just shrugged and Sirius looked at Dumbledore, who nodded.  The Animagus nodded as well and with a subtle pop was a large, black Grim-like dog.  It sidled up alongside Niamh and licked her hand.  The girl smiled and patted the shaggy head before heading towards the door, the dog bounding along after her.

Dumbledore smiled slightly then frowned.  He had plans to make.

And they were going to be difficult.  Very difficult indeed…

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Hey, nobody said Sirius was back!” exclaimed Ginny as Niamh and the big dog entered Arx Serpens.

“I just found out,” said Niamh, collapsing into a chair as Ginny patted the dog.  “He just wandered in.”

“Right when we told him not to.  Bad dog!” scolded Ginny.

Sirius gave Ginny an extremely sad look and she sighed.

“I hate dogs.”

Sirius barked at that and Niamh laughed.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

Ginny shrugged and replied, “Because they can give you the most heartbreaking looks in the entire universe, that’s why.  It’s bloody annoying.”

“I’ll go with you on that one.”

Sirius barked sharply and both girls laughed.  Niamh then sobered and whispered, “Professor Snape’s in trouble.”

“What?” said Ginny, dropping her voice to a stage whisper.  “How d’you know?”

“I sort of…well – saw it.”

“Huh?”

“I…”  Niamh sighed and hissed, “I’m a telepath!”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Well I just discovered it at the end of last year.  I’m an empath too.  Which is really annoying right now as the shock your putting off it giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” muttered Ginny.

“No problem.  I get a headache just about every day.  Its nothing new.”

“Still sorry.”

“I know.  But anyway…I was in the hospital wing and my hand touched Harry’s head and…and I saw Professor Snape being tortured by Voldemort and the other Death Eater’s.”

“Why?” asked Ginny.

“He failed at something,” replied Niamh.  “Voldemort didn’t say what.  But Professor Snape had six Cruciatus Curses cast on him.”

“Oh Merlin,” breathed Ginny.  “He could be insane by now!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…”

“Oh Niamh!  What if he is?  What’ll we tell Harry?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” mumbled Niamh, curling up in her chair.  Sirius padded over to her and laid down at the foot of the chair, head on his paws.  Niamh’s hand flopped down and began to stroke the fur along his back.  “I really don’t.”

“So let’s not,” said Ginny, tucking her feet underneath her.  “I’m sure Dumbledore’ll find a way to get him back.”

“I hope so.  For Harry’s sake.”

Ginny just nodded and the two girls fell into silence.  The only sound beyond that was the crackling of the fire or the swish of Sirius’ tail.

There just wasn’t anything they could say.

Five days had passed before there was any news of Professor Snape.  Dumbledore sent Niamh a note at breakfast telling her of how he had returned to the castle and his condition.

Professor Snape is alive and well, Miss O’Feir.  Madam Rosemerta of the Three Broomsticks found him on her way home two days ago.  He is currently in her care as the injuries he sustained were severe.  But, according to Rosemerta, his mind was not harmed by the amount of Cruciatus you described to me.

He shall be moved into the hospital wing as soon as his injuries heal enough for him to travel.  I will inform you when this happens so you may be there.  I am certain he would like to see you.

                                                            Dumbledore

Niamh smiled tightly, glad to know that he was alright.  As she tucked the letter into an inside pocket of her robes she wondered if he really was alright.  He had been tortured, for Slytherin’s sake!  He couldn’t be alright.

She’d just have to wait and see.

It was all she could do.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“I will kill him this time,” snarled the shadowy figure as it entered the hospital wing.  “Interruptions or not.”

They stalked over to the bed Harry lay in and drew their dagger, lifting it high.  Muscles drew taught as they readied themselves to deliver the blow that would kill the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Goodbye, Harry Potter,” they whispered, blue lightning flickering across their purple eyes.  “See you in the next life.”

The dagger fell…

“Perlustro!”

The dagger sank deep into Harry’s chest but nothing happened.  No blood, no gaping hole.  Nothing.

“You!” hissed the figure, shadows whipping around their form like flames.

Neville blinked and fixed the figure with a quivering wand.  He had barely remembered that spell – which he had heard Niamh use once – in time and now his mind had gone blank.

Then he had an idea.

“P-petrificus totalus!”

The figure just laughed.

“Do you really think that will work on me?”

“No,” snarled a new voice from the doorway, “but this surely will.”

The figure’s head snapped up and found Niamh standing there, her ebony wand pointed at him in her right hand.  In her left, Harry’s holly wand sent off harsh orange sparks.

“Girl…”

“Commoveo!” snapped Niamh, sending the figure flying back into the air.  They hit the wall with the crack of breaking bones and fell to the floor.

The dark-haired girl slowly advanced on them, both wands spitting orange sparks now.

“I knew something was wrong,” she hissed darkly.  “I just didn’t know what.”

“Very perceptive of you,” grumbled the figure.  “You figured me out.  The jig is up.  I surrender.”

“No, you don’t,” snarled Niamh.  “Evil doesn’t surrender.”

“Now who said I was evil?”

“This.  Resero Ingenium!”

A flood of golden light erupted from both wands and engulfed the figure, which began to scream.  Moment’s later, a huge black serpent burst forth from their body, its coils twisting sinuously in the air.  Niamh dispelled it with a flick of her wand then snapped, “Obvolvo!  Gelo!  Favill…”  Her voice dropped off.

She couldn’t say the last spell.

The figure’s eyes danced mirthfully and she snapped, “Shut up!  I ought to use the worst spell in all creation on you, you bastard!  How could you?!”  Her eyes brimmed with tears as she continued, “Tyls, how could you do this to us?”

Tyls just looked superior and Niamh snarled something violently under her breath.  She then turned to Neville and said, “Go get Professor Dumbledore.  Tell him to hurry!”

Neville just nodded and ran, leaving Niamh alone with Tyls.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Something’s wrong,” said Harry suddenly, looking around.  He touched a hand to his chest and continued, “I – I can feel something.  Like someone’s shoved something into my chest.”

“You’re gaining touch with the waking world again,” said Tany.  “Harry, your going back.”

“Going…back?”

Harry frowned.  That was it?  He was going back?  He was going to wake up?

“It seems like you only got here,” murmured Lily, hugging her son close.  “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, Mum,” whispered Harry, returning the embrace.  He managed a slight smile as he added, “I kind of don’t want to go.  But I do…”

“I know.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Lily smiled a sad smile and touched his cheek.

“Time can only tell.”  Her hand suddenly passed through his cheek and she gasped.

Harry held up his hand and stared right through it.  He was fading away.

“Mum…” he whispered in a child’s frightened tone, turning wide emerald eyes on her.  He felt like he was losing her forever.

“I know, baby,” whispered Lily.  “Tell Severus I love him.”

“I will,” promised Harry.  He felt as though he was sliding towards his right side.  Like he was sitting on the side of a hill.

“I love you.”

“Love you, Mum.”

With a soft pop and a brush of air, Harry was gone.  Lily stared at the place where he had been not a moment before and began to weep.  Tany, a sad expression on her face, rose and went to take the other woman into her arms.

Both women would miss the young man.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“What is the meaning of this…” began Dumbledore as he entered the hospital wing, Neville at his heels.  The second he entered, he felt a wave of dark magic roll over him.  It left a foul taste in his mouth.

He knew exactly what sort of magic this was.

“Necromancy,” he growled, frowning at the young man entrapped in a wrapping of duct tape and a freeze spell.  “Miss O’Feir, did you…”

“Know about this?  No, sir.”  Niamh scowled as she added, “I never felt…right…around him.  But I never suspected that he was evil.”

“He’s not evil,” said Dumbledore.  “Just a puppet.  An empty shell.”

“Still evil,” muttered Niamh.

“Not quite, Miss O’Feir.  Not quite.  Mister Longbottom, would you please go find Professor McGonagall?  And ask her to bring Professor Flitwick with her.”

“Yes, sir,” muttered Neville, dashing out.

“Sir,” said Niamh softly, “why would someone do this?  Why would they send…that thing…to torture me and Harry?”

Dumbledore cast a frown in her direction.  “I do not know what you speak of, Miss O’Feir.”

“Sir…Harry told me last summer that Tyls was dead.”

“Why did you never mention this?”

Niamh just shrugged and said softly, “I…I didn’t want it to be true.  He is – was – our best friend, mine and Harry’s.  I wanted him back.”

“But it is not your friend, Niamh,” said Dumbledore gently.

“I know…”

Niamh turned away slightly then gasped.

“Oh Merlin!”

She dashed forward and jerked the dagger from Harry’s chest an instant before the spell Neville had cast upon it dissipated.  Breathing a sigh of relief, she collapsed on her friend’s chest, throwing the dagger onto the other bed.

For a second, she thought she’d felt Harry’s shift.

She looked at his face.

It had looked like his eyelids had flickered.

Niamh’s heart dropped like a stone and she looked away, back towards Dumbledore, who was watching her gravely.

A second later, a presence exploded in her head, which sent her spinning back around.  Emerald eyes were blinking slightly at her and a vague smile spread over Harry’s face.  The smile was strained as his face had not moved since the end of September.

“’Lo, Ni,” he murmured in a scratchy voice.

Niamh stared blankly at him for a moment then a sob wrenched itself from her chest and she threw herself bodily onto him, hugging him tight.  A second later, Jardin appeared through the wall, his eyes golden again and his feathers shining anew.

< Harry! >

Dumbledore smiled gently at the three of them then turned an icy gaze on the creature they had called Tyls.  It was glaring darkly at the happy trio, murder promised in his eyes.

Murder that would not take place now.

Harry had returned to the land of the waking.  And Dumbledore intended to make sure he stayed there.

It took Harry to near the end of the school year to recover completely from the time he’d spent in his coma.  During his time in the coma, his body had gone through a state of regression.  Madam Pomfrey had halted what of it that she could but there were some thing’s that she couldn’t do.  She had managed to keep his muscles from regressing but that was all.  He had had a little bit of trouble getting his legs and arms to work correctly and even at the end of the year, he was walking with a slight limp.  But his reflexes were as fast as ever – as had been proved when Crabbe and Goyle had tried to jump him.

His voice had also suffered.  The full force of his Cockney accent had returned, which had – to his surprise – delighted Niamh.  When he had asked her why, she’d simply replied, “It makes you you, that’s all.”

Professor Snape had also been moved up to the castle.  But he was not going to recover as quickly as Harry.

The young man had learned of what had happened to his father from Niamh but that didn’t answer the question as to what Severus had failed Voldemort at.  It was a question only Severus could answer.

Unfortunately, he was currently in a potion-induced sleep, which Madam Pomfrey would only allow him out of for two hours at a time.

Times during which Harry nor anyone else was allowed to speak to him.

It was driving Harry mad.

Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore had informed him of what Tyls was.

“A zombie?”

“But someone said you couldn’t bring the dead back to life,” said Niamh suddenly, to which Harry shook his head.

“I’s na bringin’ tha’ dead back ter life, Ni.  A zombie’s na ‘uman anymore.  They’ve na goh a soul.  Somebody else controls ‘em.  Gives ‘em life.”

“Exactly,” said Dumbledore.  “Very good, Harry.  May I ask where you found that?”

“Readin’,” replied Harry.  He then said softly, “Voldemort summoned ‘im, did’n ‘e?”

“We have no proof of that…”

“I’ had ter be ‘im.  Abram tol’ me about ‘im.  ‘E saw ‘im, Voldemort an’ Wormtail.  ‘An Tyls.”  Harry shook his head and continued softly, “I did’n believe ‘im.”

“Why?” asked Dumbledore.  “Who is this Abram?”

“’E’s tha’ one tha’ foun’ me.  After tha’ Dursley’s abandoned meh.  ‘E,” he swallowed hard before continuing, “’E was there when Tyls was killed.”

Dumbledore sat up straight at that and fixed the dark-haired young man with a fierce look.

“Tell me.”

“Professor, I…”

“Harry.”

“I can’na!” yelled Harry.  “I can’na tell ye!”

“Harry,” whispered Niamh, reaching across the space between their chairs to touch his arm.  Emerald met crystalline blue and the girl continued, “Please.  I want to know.  I need to know.”

“Ni…”

“Please.”

“I can’,” breathed Harry.  “I’s too ‘ard.”

“There is an easier way, Harry,” said Dumbledore softly.  He nodded in the direction of one of his cabinets, where a large stone bowl sat, its contents giving off a slight silvery sheen.  Harry looked at it then back at the Headmaster.

“I doan know…”

“Harry, I will keep you and Miss O’Feir in this office until I have this story.”

“I’s na important…”

“Its important to me,” hissed Niamh.  “Please, Harry.”

Harry looked once at her, his face as open as a book.  Niamh saw pain and fear in his face.  And she felt then in the welter of emotions that rolled across her.

Then he looked at Dumbledore, his expression gone to stone.  He nodded numbly and waited silently as the older wizard rose and brought the Pensieve over to the desk.

“Do you know…” began Dumbledore.

“I know how ter use i’,” mumbled Harry, taking out his wand – which Niamh had graciously returned along with Hedwig and his basilisk pendant.  He placed the tip of it against his temple and closed his eyes, drawing a white thread away a moment later when he moved his wand away.  The thread dropped into the Pensieve and the surface flickered black for a moment.

Dumbledore started then reached forward and touched the surface of the silver liquid.  Niamh and Harry both followed suit and the three of them were drawn into it.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

They saw all of it.  The words between Harry and Argil.  The revealing of Argil’s raping of the elder children, of Tyls.  They saw the darkness in Harry’s eyes.  Tyls’ death in Harry’s arms.  Argil’s death.  Harry’s threat to Abram.

Everything.

When they were thrown out of the Pensieve, Niamh had tears streaming down her cheeks.  She knew now why Harry had been so distant after that incident.

Dumbledore watched Harry gravely as the teen leaned forward and retrieved his memory from the Pensieve.

“You could leave it in there, you know.”

Harry glared mildly at him.

“Where someone c’n ge’ i’?  No t’anks.  I’d rather ‘ave i’ in me head.”

“Very well,” said Dumbledore, nodding slightly.  “Why did you not inform anyone of this?”

“I committed murder, professor.  Tha’s a crime in tha’ Muggle an’ tha’ Wizardin’ world.”  He looked towards Niamh quickly and added, “An’ I did’n wan’ some people ter thin’ less o’ me.”

Niamh let loose a sob and flung herself from her chair onto the floor at Harry’s knees.  She grabbed his hands in her own and brought them to her face in a teary kiss.

“I would never think less of you, Harry,” she hissed in a slightly savage tone.  “Never.  You’re my best friend.  My best.  I’ll always stand by you, no matter what.  You could kill that bastard a thousand times over and I’d still stand by you.”

“Ni…” began Harry, feeling tears of his own welling up.  But he wouldn’t allow them to fall.  Not now.

Not yet.

He had other things to do first.

“How would you kill a zombie?” he whispered, drawing a small sob from Niamh.

“Burning or beheading,” replied Dumbledore softly.  “You need not worry…”

“No!” snapped Harry, fixed the Headmaster with a fierce scowl.  “Voldemort sent ‘im ter harm me.  I’s righ’ tha’ I end i’.”

“Harry…”

“I’ve goh to settle my demons, Ni,” whispered Harry, cupping her face in his hands.  “This i’ the only way I know ‘ow.”

Niamh sniffed then whispered, “I’ll be right there with you then.”

Harry smiled.  “Alrigh’.”

Dumbledore frowned and began, “Are you sure…”

“Yes,” growled Harry and Niamh at the same time.

“Very well.  I do not think you should be the one’s to do this but if you wish…I will allow it.  Demons must be settled, especially those Lord Voldemort digs up.”

Harry just nodded and rose to his feet, lifting Niamh up with him.

“Le’s do i’ now,” he whispered.  “Ge’ i’ done wi’.”

Niamh just nodded and leaned against him, her head on his chest.  Harry hugged her close for a moment then slowly moved her towards the door.

Dumbledore watched them go with a grave expression.  As the door swung closed behind them, Fawkes ruffled his feathers.

< They are much older than they seem. >

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, “but no young man or woman should have had to endure what they have.”

< I agree, > said Fawkes.  < But they have.  Let them do this, Albus.  He was their friend.  Let them send this creature Riddle summoned to a dark grave.  Perhaps it will help a wound heal. >

“I hope you are right,” said Dumbledore softly.  “I hope that you are indeed right, my old friend.”

“Can we really do this?” asked Niamh as she and Harry began to walk towards the dungeons.

“We ‘ave to,” replied Harry.”

“But he’s…”

“’E’s na Tyls, Ni!  ‘E’s…’e’s just some creature tha’ Voldemort created ter shake us up.”  Harry’s expression turned savage as he continued, “’E knew!  ‘E found ou’ about me past.  An’ ‘e found ou’ about Tyls’ death.  ‘E found ou’ an’ ‘e’s been tryin’ ter use i’ against us.  ‘Gainst me.  Bloody bastard…”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” whispered Niamh.  “I knew he was dead.  Why didn’t  I know not to trust him?”

“Ye did’na ‘ave ‘im die in yer arms,” said Harry softly.

Niamh wrapped an arm about his waist and said, “Harry, I’m…”

“Sorry?  Doan be.  Jus’…jus’ doan le’ me do this alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” whispered Niamh.

“I’m gla’,” said Harry, curling his left arm about her shoulder.  His right extended out to his side and he muttered, “Appello Chalybs!”

There was a swirl of emerald green motes of light from his hand and then the sword he had borne out of the Chamber of Secrets appeared.  He swung the blade in a smooth circle, a grim expression on his face.

“Harry,” breathed Niamh, “that was…that was wandless magic.”

“Yeh.”

“But…”

“We’re ‘ere,” interrupted Harry.  He looked down at her and said, “Ye ready?”

Niamh stared right back up at him and took a deep breath before saying, “As I’ll ever be.”  She then softly added, “We have no other choice, do we?”

“No,” replied Harry gravely.

Niamh leaned her head against his shoulder and whispered, “This is wrong.”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Bu’ we do.  ‘Ere’s nothin’ fer i’.”

“I know…”

Harry hugged her close for a moment then released her, reaching out to open the door.  He had just pulled it open, when something hard came crashing down on the back of his neck.  With a moan, he went down and Niamh after him as she too was hit – but not hard enough to knock her unconscious.  As she fell, her eyes focused on the face of their attacker.

“Tom?” she breathed.

Tyls stepped out into the hallway and leaned down towards her.

“Can’t find good help these days, can you?  Thomas, if you would?”

Thomas leaned down and hauled Niamh to her feet.  She fought against him but he held onto her with a single-mindedness that scared her.  A glance at his eyes, which were blank of all emotion, scared her even more.

Something was wrong.

“Well,” said Tyls, standing over Harry.  “It looks like I’ll be able to finish what I started.  Do you mind if I use your sword, Potter?  No?  Alright.”

He leaned down and had just wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword, when a hand came down sharply on his wrist.  Black eyes met green and Harry snarled, “Tha’s mine.”

Tyls just smirked and rammed the end of the hilt into Harry’s face.  The dark-haired teen turned his head so the blow glanced off his cheek and slammed his fist into the smirking visage above him.  Tyls was thrown backward and Harry leapt to his feet, charging him.

The sword lay on the ground.

Niamh looked at it then at the battling Harry and Tyls.  Then back again.

If she could get to that sword, she might be able to end this.  Only she was having some difficulties with this plan as she was currently incapacitated.

An elbow in Thomas’ stomach, followed by a fierce uppercut to his jaw fixed this.

Niamh glanced at Harry and Tyls then dove for the sword.  Tyls saw this motion and threw Harry back a few feet, drawing his wand.

“Crucio!”

“NO!” snapped Harry as the spell sped past him.  Niamh hit the stone floor in convulsions, her screams echoing down the corridors of the dungeons.

“YES!” crowed Tyls, laughing.

Harry, eyes burning black, drew his wand and pointed it at Tyls’ chest.

“Favillesco!”

Fire enveloped Tyls and he immediately stopped laughing.  He began to scream.

“Potter!  What are you doing?”

“Burnin’ ye,” snarled Harry.  “Ye’ll be gone in a few minutes.”

“No!  Please!  Harry!”

“Go ter ‘ell!” bellowed Harry as the fire completely enveloped Tyls.  He saw flickers of flesh burning away before he turned and stalked over to the sword.  Picking it up, he turned and threw himself at Tyls as a blank-eye Thomas charged him.  The fiery form of Tyls was thrown to the ground and Harry let out a roar as he raised the sword then let it drop..

Tyls’ head rolled away from his body, the fire about it dissipating as the head and the body burned itself away into nothingness.

Thomas staggered and stared at Harry.

“Harry!  He had be under Imperious!”

“I figured,” muttered Harry.  He then whirled about and rushed to Niamh’s side, lifting her up into his arms.  “Ni!  Ni, talk to me.”

“Hi,” mumbled Niamh.  She blinked tiredly at him and whispered, “It hurts.”

“I know,” whispered Harry.  “I’m goin’ ter ge’ ye ter Madam Pomfrey.  Tom…”

“What?” asked Thomas, looking up from the spot where Tyls had died.

“Go tell Professor Dumbledore wha’ ‘appened.  Everyt’ing.”

“Okay.”

Thomas ran off as Harry tucked the sword into his belt and hefted Niamh up into his arms.  She let out a little whimper as he staggered to his feet and he whispered, “Sorry.”

“Wasn’t…your…fault,” whispered Niamh in a pain-laced tone.

Yes, thought Harry, it was.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Two weeks later the gang were on the train heading back to King’s Cross.  They were all sitting quietly in one cab, none of them wishing to talk.

Niamh was leaning against Harry, her head pillowed on his shoulder as she slept.  Dumbledore had talked to some people and – with a small demonstration of her few scars by Niamh – her Aunt Maeve was given custody of her.

Harry was also asleep, his head leaning against Niamh’s.  He had wanted to stay at Hogwarts with his father but Dumbledore – who had done some string pulling and had ousted the Dursley’s as his guardians – was sending him to the Burrow.  He could do that as he had become Harry’s ‘guardian’.  In reality the papers that named him as such were void.  They were just for show until as such time as it was safe for Harry and Severus’ relationship to come forth.

Ron, Hermione, Mika, and Ginny sat on the other side of the cab, watching their two friends.  Jardin perched on the luggage rack above their heads.  Hedwig was curled up in Ginny’s hands, muttering something that the redhead explained was about humanity being stupid.  Ron gave his little sister an odd look as she said something in Parseltongue back to the snake but he said nothing.  He was okay with it.

Thomas yawned from his position on the floor and said, “Anyone else really tired?”

“Those two,” said Mika, nodding at Harry and Niamh.

< I would say so, > said Jardin.  < Voldemort practically came after the both of them this year. >

“True,” said Hermione.  “I can’t believe that someone could be so cruel.”

“I can,” whispered Ginny.  “I can believe that he could be so cruel.”  She shook her head and added, “I’ve been in his head after all.”

Mika gently touched her shoulder and she leaned towards him, earning a grumpy look from Ron.

The door of their cab suddenly slid open and Ron turned his attention towards it, instantly snapping, “Get out, Malfoy.”

Malfoy spared him one glance then looked over at the sleeping Harry.  He then took a step back and said, “As I see Potter isn’t awake, I’ll leave.  Good day.”  With that he left, leaving the others to look at each other.

“What was that about?” asked Hermione, looking at the three Slytherins sitting to her left.  All three shrugged in response.

“No idea,” said Thomas.

“He probably just wanted to talk to Harry,” said Ginny.  “They’ve got an odd sort of…what would you call it?”

“Alliance?” suggested Mika.  “Friendship?”

Ginny just shrugged and looked out the window to see stone walls flashing by.

“We’re here.”

“Really?” said Harry, lifting his head.  He then gently shook the girl beside him and said, “Ni, wake up.  We’re ‘ere.”

“Mmm,” mumbled Niamh, attempting to burrow further into Harry’s side.  He shook her again and blue eyes opened to glare at him.

“Sorry, Ni,” said Harry sheepishly.  “Bu’ we’re ‘ere.”

“Oh,” said Niamh, sitting up.  “Sorry.”

“S’alrigh’,” said Harry.  He then looked at his friends and said, “Le’s go.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Out on the platform, Mrs. Weasley was chatting with a dark-haired woman of average height.  She was thin and dressed in ripped black jeans and a fishnet t-shirt, underneath which was a black spaghetti strap shirt.  There was a black leather bomber’s jacket slung over her shoulder.

Ron gaped openly as Niamh called out to her.

“That’s your aunt?” he gasped.

“What?” said Niamh.  “You expected the Easter Bunny?”

“The what?”

“Easter Bunny, Ron,” said Harry.  “Easter Bunny.”

“Never heard of him.”

Harry sighed and said, “I’ll explain i’ ter ye later.  Le’s go say ‘ello.”  He began to walk towards the two women, Niamh and Ginny at his heels.

“’Allo!” he called cheerily, waving at Mrs. Weasley.

“Harry!” exclaimed the Weasley matriarch.  “Severus told me you were in a coma…”

“Yeh,” said Harry.  “I’m alrigh’ now, though.  Goh me accent back though.  Sort o’ annoyin’ bu’ a’ tha’ same time na.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled and said, “It brings me back a few memories.  Ah, Maeve this is Harry Potter.  Harry, Maeve McAnally.””

The other woman nodded and said, in a slightly Irish accent, “Yes, Nia’s told me a lot about you, Mister Potter.”

“Harry, please.”

“Very well.  Nia, are you ready to go?”

Niamh nodded and replied, “Just have to get my trunk.  Then we can go.”

“I’ll go get it,” said Maeve.  “It was nice to finally meet you as well, Molly.”

“And you.  Now, Niamh…”  Mrs. Weasley turned on Niamh and smiled warmly at her  “…you know that you are welcome to come to the Burrow anytime.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley.”  She winked at her friends before adding, “I’ll definitely make a visit.  Or two.”

“We’ll all be looking forward to it.  Now where have Fred and George gone?”

“Slytherin knows,” remarked Ginny.  She then grabbed Mika’s hand and Harry’s and chirped, “C’mon!  Let’s get our trunks!”

< Hey! > yelled Jardin as Harry’s shoulder – which he had been about to land on – got jerked away.  He instead settled on the arm Niamh offered and rustled his wings irritably.  < Thank you, Virginia! >

Ginny just grinned cheekily over her shoulder at him and continued to pull the two boys towards the baggage car.

“Hyper, isn’t she?” remarked Mika.

Harry just shook his head and grinned.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Around twenty minutes later, Hermione’s parents arrived to get her as they all had managed to unload their luggage from the train.  The bushy-haired girl promised to visit sometime during the summer before she left.

Mad-Eye Moody limped up to take Mika, who gave the grizzled old Auror a worried sort of look.  Moody gave Harry an odd sort of look then lifted Mika’s trunk into the air with a flick of his wand, turning and limping off.  Mika followed him after giving the same promise as Hermione.  Just before he and his father passed through the wall to the Muggle half of King’s Cross, they saw a girl of about ten with a crop of silvery hair leap into the white-haired boy’s arms.  Then they were gone.

Thomas had disappeared long ago with his parents and they saw Neville and Amanda leaving with a woman they assumed was Neville’s grandmother judging from a stuffed vulture hat atop her head.

Niamh was the last to leave and gave Harry a tight hug before she did so.

“Don’t get into any trouble without me, you hear?”

“I goh ye,” said Harry, returning the hug.  “An’ ye’d be’er visit.”

Niamh just grinned at him then grabbed one end of her trunk as her aunt grabbed the other.  The two of them walked off, waving back at them.

“Well,” said Mrs. Weasley, “let’s get going, shall we?”

< I concur with that decision. >

“Hush, Jar,” admonished Harry, tickling the feathers on the raven’s chest.  He took charge of the trolley his and Ginny’s trunks were stacked on and began to wheel it away, chatting amiably with the girl and Hedwig (who was still in the redhead’s possession) as they walked.

And for once since the beginning of his fourth year, the memory of Tyls’ death did not haunt him.