Voldemort was watching him.  He could feel it like pinpricks against his skin.  He struggled to open his eyes, but was falling deep into darkness, and all sensation seeped away. 

He had no sense of time or space.  Images flitted past, of a small garden, sunlight, and Snape plucking several small globes of glittering fruit from a tree.  "I'm getting a taste for these," murmured Harry as he took one from his palm. 

He wanted to see Snape, and his mum...and then he was, walking across the floorboards of their room. 

She was laid out on the bed, her hands folded across her chest, and Snape knelt by her side.  Moonlight ghosted across Lily's face, her features unnaturally still.  The silence was broken by the squealing of metal from the floor below, as hinges were torn from their homes and a door was shattered to splinters. 

Dread flooded Harry, and he hurried forward, crouching near Snape.  "It's Voldemort," he said, tugging at Snape's sleeve.  He took a deep breath, and a sharp pain jabbed his side.  Something had happened, he remembered.  He'd been at the Quidditch World Cup, and something had happened...

"Shhh," said Snape.  "Watch."  Pinching his fingers under his sleeve, he withdrew a shimmering fabric, impossibly large to have come from the narrow space.  He shook it out, the netting dazzling in the moonlight, and laid it atop Lily's body.  "Protection," he said.  Another sheet fell across Lily.  "Healing."  A third joined the others.  "Home."

The scent of moss wafted from the blanket.  It filled Harry's senses, rich and loamy, penetrating the darkness.  His mum moved now, the subtle movements of sleep, her breath humming in the quiet room. 

Harry watched, mesmerized.  "How do you do it?" 

Snape smiled.  "Magic."  He pulled another sheet from his sleeve, and flung it high in the air.  The world turned to silver and shadows as the fabric draped over Harry's head. 

Another blast reverberated downstairs, and there was the creak of a foot on the steps.

"Please," Harry begged.  "He'll kill you."  He tried to pull the fabric off him, but it slithered across his face, endless. 

The silhouette of Snape stood, backlit by the moon.  "We already died for you, Harry.  Don't you remember?"

"You're not supposed to say that," whispered Harry.  He tugged fiercely at the gauze, and it fell away. 

It was not Snape standing before him, but a man who looked like an older version of himself.   A man he'd seen only in photos, and in a magical reflection. 

"Dad," said Harry, the fabric slipping through his fingers.  The pain in his side flared up again, now searing.  

James Potter extended his arm towards Lily, who blinked awake and rose to stand by his side.  They looked every bit the couple from the photo album.  But when his dad spoke, it was with Snape's deep voice.  "Potter.  It is time for us to go."  He nodded towards the door that led down the stairs, where Voldemort was waiting.

 Harry found it difficult to breathe.  "But what am I supposed to do?" 

His parents smiled and knelt down, drawing him near, one on each side of him.  They were each whispering something to him, but he couldn't make out the words.  Their voices ran together like waves crashing against the shore.

He wanted to tell them to wait, that he couldn't let this happen, not again.  But something was niggling at him, warning him.  Underneath the deep green scent that filled the room, another smell lurked.  The smell of decay. 

Harry gasped awake.

The pain he'd felt before stabbed him sharply between his ribs.  It made him want to gulp in air, but each time he tried, he was jabbed again, deeper and deeper. 

He forced himself to take shallow breaths, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy.  He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, careful not to change his breathing. 

Soft, sandy shapes mixed with dark forms, shadows blurring the edges.  The sound of something wet dripping on rocks was the only distinct feature, the echo striking his ears sharply.  

He touched his face where his glasses normally perched and found empty air and bare skin.  He blinked, trying to improve his vision as looked around.  He caught a movement-something small was moving several yards in front of him.  He squinted at it, trying to determine if it was a trick of the wind and light, or something alive. 

Then the thing spoke.  "My, haven't you grown.  You were merely an infant when I saw you last."

Harry knew that voice, from the memories uprooted by the Dementors.  It was the voice from his nightmares, one that was followed by the screaming of his mother, and a terrible sense of helplessness.  He sucked in his breath.

An invisible, icy blade gutted him, and he couldn't hold back his cry of pain. 

Voldemort's crackling laugh was like dead leaves.  "Ah, yes.  One of my favorite curses.  Keeps the breathing shallow, and the victim...docile."

Harry clutched at his side, forcing himself to take tiny breaths.  He tried to focus, but his thoughts scattered like marbles.  He squinted at the moving shape before him.  The form seemed wrong, somehow. 

"Blind as a bat." The voice tsked.

Voldemort was watching him when he couldn't watch back, and the thought of it filled him with a frantic energy.  He reached out, grabbing at the hard ground, until his hands landed on the familiar shape of his glasses.  He shoved them on, ignoring the smears of dirt on the lenses. 

Heavy rocks loomed in the shadows, and lichen covered the walls in a thick carpet.  A thin trail of water dribbled over the lip of a massive overhang, feeding a lake that stretched out in all directions.  Harry realized he was on an island inside a cave.  It was a jagged lump of rock in the center of the water, covered in red dust.  The odor of decay wafted in with the mist crawling across the lake. 

The dark shape in front of him was in shadows, but it slowly crept forward, into the dim light.  An emaciated hand reached out, gripping a jutting rock for support.  It looked frail, this creature before him, with its grey skin and tiny limbs, but the air told another story.  The air tingled with power.   

"What do you want?" Harry rasped.  His throat was raw and bruised.  Memories of Wormtail's grabbing hands flitted past as he tried to remember how he got there.  The images scurried away, out of his grasp.

A pitiless voice emerged from the tiny creature.  "Something only you can provide, little boy."  It hobbled forward, hunched low.  In one withered hand it clutched a wand.  "But don't worry.  You won't miss it.  Your pathetic excuse for a mother certainly didn't."

A flame erupted inside Harry, and he lunged at the figure.  But he only managed two steps before he slammed into something hard and cold.

Choking back a yelp, he reached out in front of him.  The thing he'd encountered was a glass wall--or something that resembled glass.  He traced the contours of it with his fingertips, leaving a dusty trail on the surface, until he'd completed an entire loop.  Above him, he could see the faint shimmer of his prison walls curving together, ending in a small circular opening. 

A bottle.  He was trapped inside a giant bottle.

"Quaint, isn't it?" said Voldemort.  The warped figure moved closer.  Harry could taste the dark magic in the air, like tar at the back of his throat. 

The shrunken hand brushed along the outside surface of the glass.  "I'm tempted to create one for each of my enemies; start a collection.  But its true purpose is to lower your mental defenses.  No doubt your...father..." and at this the thin lips pulled back from tiny, half-formed teeth, "...has been training you for battle."

Harry swallowed.  Snape had recently given him a few lessons in Occlumency, but they hadn't gotten far.  He couldn't block a single thought.  He kept his face stoic, unwilling to let Voldemort see his fear.  But his right hand still clenched reflexively.

Another rasping chuckle.  "Missing something?"  Harry's wand appeared from under the dark robes, almost half as big as the body holding it, but handled with assurance and ease by those delicate hands.  

The hands moved the wand in a careless wave, and the wand floated up, over the mouth of the bottle, and down towards Harry.  Harry grabbed for it, and hurled a breaking spell at the glass in front of him.  The spell rebounded, knocking Harry off his feet and shattering several buttons on his shirt.  The bottle remained intact. 

Laughter rasped from Voldemort.  "I designed the glass to dampen magic.  Your feeble skill has been reduced to nothing.  Even in my weakened form, my magical abilities are far stronger than yours."  Another wand appeared, made of pale and knotted yew wood.  "And I've discovered a delightful way to regain what strength I've lost.  A bit of poetic justice." 

The remnants of his dream flooded back to him: the need to fight, the inability to do anything.  He curled a fist against his glass prison. 

The scrape of wet wood against rock pulled a satisfied look from Voldemort.  "And so we begin."

The sound came from the sandy shore, where Wormtail was struggling to climb out of a small boat.  The boat rocked in the shallow water as the rotund man stumbled out.  The narrow craft slipped from its moorings, but Wormtail did not notice as he rushed forward, his wand twitching erratically at his side. 

"My master."  He  bowed to the Dark Lord, but his eyes darted towards Harry, roving along the outline of his glass encasement.  "What do you wish me to do?"

Voldemort's face contorted as he stared at Wormtail.  "Where is the victim?" he hissed.  "My sacrifice?"

Wormtail kneeled, his hands dancing across the ragged edge of his robe.  "I...my Lord...there wasn't time..."

The air crackled with magic, and Wormtail was writhing in the sand, his screams reverberating against the overhanging stones.  Another lesson Harry had learned in his defense lessons this summer: Crucio.

For a moment, Voldemort looked ready to let Wormtail writhe himself into dust.  But the warped arm holding the wand relaxed, and the body at his feet quivered to stop. 

"A small setback," he murmured.  "But do not expect to escape further punishment."  He waved his hand towards a section of the shore where a rocky ledge extended out into the lake.  "Let us begin." 

Wormtail tumbled to his feet, taking a small step towards the shore where Voldemort gestured.  His beady eyes were fixed on Harry.  Harry remembered those thick hands around his throat, the fear in the eyes of his mum and Snape as he disapparated away. 

Why had he spent so much time fighting Snape when he should have been paying attention to the real enemy?  Snape had protected him, had told him he needed to focus on the right battles.  But he had treated Snape like the enemy.  And his anger had gotten him captured.

As he watched Wormtail watch him, he resolved that even if he stood no chance, he would fight the right battles.  He pressed his hand flat against the glass and watched the mist collect around his fingers as he let out a long breath.

He would be the man Snape wanted him to be.

Wormtail's eyes were pulled away from Harry when a splash echoed throughout the chamber.  A hand sprouted from the water, white and glistening.  Reaching outward, it clawed the air, until it found the ledge.  Grabbing hold of it, the hand tightened, and a slick, pale body rose slowly from the watery grave.  Rivulets of water dribbled down its back as it heaved itself into a standing position.  It stood for a moment with its back to them, the stench of death clear, even inside Harry's glass prison.  It shone like bleached bones. 

Then it turned towards them.  Its jaw was hanging open, its cavernous mouth a gaping hole.  And its eyes-its eyes were cold and lifeless, lit only by a sinister magic. 

Harry stared at it, his heart pounding, his fingertips pushing at the glass until they turned white.  He felt dizzy, the pain in his chest jabbing at him until he forced himself to take steady breaths. 

Inferi.  The name recalled conversations he'd had with Snape about the darkest magic.  This creature before him had been someone once: a person with a name and a life.  But there was no sign of that person now.  Each flicker of light on its decaying face, each unnatural movement of its limbs showed that it was a thing designed for evil. 

Voldemort crooked his finger, and it lumbered forward, emitting a gurgling sound.  Its sunken eyes trained on Harry as it drew closer.  The Dark Lord held up his hand when the Inferi was only a few feet away, and the creature stopped, dripping onto the rocky soil, awaiting its next order.

Harry fought the urge to pull away, refusing to show weakness.  He held himself rigidly in place, close to the thick wall of the bottle.  The scene in front of him flickered as the mist on glass in front of him blossomed and evaporated.  The heat of his shallow breaths brushed against his hand and face.

"Wormtail," whispered Voldemort.  "Bring the creature forward.  Closer to the boy."

Wormtail seemed shaken out of a reverie caused by the Inferi in front of him. Slowly, he nodded.  Holding up his wand, he murmured a command, and the Inferi stepped forward, towards the glass vessel in the center of the island. 

Harry watched the Inferi approach through scenes of evaporating mist, like jumpy bits of film.  Ten feet away...five feet away...and then the mist dissipated and it was there, on the other side of the glass, scant inches away from the curved exterior. 

No mist formed in front of its gaping mouth. 

Wormtail waited nearby, his wand held at the ready.  He stared at Harry, surveying every inch of him.  

A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he felt every inch the specimen in an aquarium.  But he raised his chin and stared back. 

"We'll need it much closer than that," said Voldemort, indicating the Inferi with a nod of his head. 

"But-the glass," said Wormtail. 

"Easily dealt with."  Voldemort traced his wand through the air.

The world tilted sickeningly. Harry was pitched forward, towards the thick wall of his prison.  He threw his hands up, and his palms smashed into the cold glass.  The jolt of the impact shot up to his elbows, leaving his forearms tingling.  He dropped his wand, and it rattled away from reach.     

He slid towards the narrow opening above his head.  Flailing against the casing around him, he scrabbled for purchase, but his body twisted and tumbled towards the round mouth. 

Through the glass, the entire world was off-kilter, the ground rising up above him, the rocky overhang of the cave ceiling falling away below his feet.  He realized what was happening.  The bottle was now upside down, and he was being shaken out of it like a stubborn bit of mustard. 

He pressed his trainers outward, shoving them against the flared lip of the bottle.  But with a squeal, the traction on his shoes slipped, and he fell in a rush of cold air.

The ground jolted the small of his back and he rolled, sand splashing into his nose and mouth.  He coughed, and the hex jabbed him viciously through his side and into his lungs.  Spitting out grit, he dug his fingers into his ribs to ward off the pain and closed his eyes to shut out the swirling world.

The dizziness eased, and he wiped his glasses with his fingers, blinking away the granules that had burrowed between his lids.  His vision cleared, and he looked up.

The Inferi was reaching for him. 

His body reacted.  Hands and feet tore at the ground, sand jumping around him before he realized that he was moving.

Wormtail got to him first.  Pudgy hands closed on him, the dirty nails pressing into his shoulders.  "Harry," he pleaded in his nasal voice.  "Listen..."

"To you?" Harry choked incredulously and flailed, tearing at the tattered robe around Wormtail's shoulders.

"Bring him closer," crooned Voldemort, beckoning.  "The Inferi must touch him..."

Wormtail held him tightly as the Inferi approached.  "Do not do this," he hissed, his soft belly pressing into Harry's back.  "Not now..."

Harry growled as he struggled.  He was going to die here, and what were the last things he had said to his mum, to Snape?  Something childish, no doubt.  And that was the last memory they would have of him.  Guilt and worry fueled his strength, and he pulled his arm free, twisting to face Wormtail.  "You're the reason Voldemort got to me," he shouted, wishing he could aim those words at himself.  The jabbing pain in his side only encouraged him to shout more.  "Let me go."  His fist sank into soft flesh and tangled in the tattered robes.

Wormtail jerked at those words, his thick hands tightening as he snatched Harry's hand, pulling it towards him.  The folds of Wormtail's robe engulfed his arm.

His fingers clenched madly, struggling to be free of the heavy fabric.  They closed on what felt like a small bag of pebbles at his side, and Harry grabbed at it, hoping it was a weapon he could use.

The pebbles burst under his hand, drenching his palm in something cold and wet.  A sweet, fruity scent filled the air.  A scent that made him think of warm days at Spinner's End.

Bubblefruit.  Wormtail's pocket was filled with bubblefruit.

Harry froze as a vivid image splashed into his mind: the kitchen at Spinner's End.  A small shelf above the sink held a neat row of potion vials that Snape liked to keep on him at all times:  Veritaserum, Skele-gro, Polyjuice.

Polyjuice.

Harry looked into Wormtail's eyes. 

They were still small and beady, but there was something else there, something only Harry could see. 

Something that said, I'm here, little one.

The tip of a wand touched him gently, hidden from view, and a gentle warmth spread through him.  The jabbing pain that accompanied each breath melted away, replaced by the soft ache of a healed wound. 

For the first time since he awoke, Harry breathed freely.  Snape was here.  He had another chance to make things right.  He took a deep breath and the scent of moss returned, filling his lungs.  With Snape gripping him tightly, he stepped towards the waiting Inferi.

The stench of death smothered the air.  The Inferi loomed over him, the remnants of its clothes hanging like seaweed.  At a signal from Voldemort, it stretched its hand towards Harry.

The touch of Snape's wand moved slowly across Harry's back, towards the gap between his arm and side.  Snape now had a direct line of fire towards the Inferi and the Dark Lord.

"Wait," murmured Voldemort, and just before that whitened hand touched him, it paused. 

He gestured sharply towards the water, and the still lake exploded upward.

Snape tensed behind him.  Two more Inferi emerged from the water.  They moved towards the first Inferi, and then past it, pausing to stand over Harry and Snape.  Harry wondered how many more were lurking beneath the lake's surface.

"Yes, I think that will do, Wormtail," said Voldemort. 

Snape was still gripping Harry's arm tightly.  "My Lord?"

"As I said," and the Dark Lord smiled, "you should not expect to escape punishment.  And since you were unable to procure a sacrifice for me...I shall have to make do with your miserable life." Voldemort gestured again, and one of the Inferi lurched down. 

Snape gasped, and the grip on Harry's arm was gone. 

Harry whirled to see Wormtail's body dragged backwards by an Inferi.  Nearby, the bottle rose in the air, still upside down.  At a hissed command from Voldemort, the Inferi released Snape, and the bottle plummeted towards him. 

Snape raised his wand in defense, but the bottle swallowed him up before he could cast a spell.  The mouth of the bottle buried deeply into the sandy ground, trapping him on all sides.  He struck the glass with his wand, but it had no effect.  A green gas rose from the ground and surrounded his wand, then crawled up his arm to his face.  Snape fell to his knees, retching.

The Inferi holding Harry dragged him towards Voldemort, and another Inferi approached.  It stood, a silent sentinel, as Voldemort began an incantation. 

Harry felt a pull as the withered man before him spoke the words, very few of which he understood.  His Latin had never been good, but he heard "sacrifice," "death," and "power." 

The Inferi reached out its hand, a single, moldering finger extended, and reached for the scar on Harry's forehead. 

Harry recoiled, but another set of arms held him tight.  The finger drew a wet line down the scar.  Pain exploded in Harry's head. 

"Yes..." hissed Voldemort.  "Death, pain...all elements of the night I was nearly destroyed.  And now--death unto death."  He pulled out a dagger.  The handle was intricately carved into the shape of a writhing snake, its ruby eyes glittering.  With a slash of his wand, the dagger flew forward and buried itself into the Inferi who had touched his scar. 

The Inferi let out a shriek, and black liquid seeped from the wound.  The blackness seeped slowly outward, visible under the pale skin.  Minutes ticked away as the creature struggled.  The ruby eyes of the snake sparkled ever brighter as the blackness flowed outward, the dark magic consuming the body beneath it.  It was an eternity before the Inferi collapsed, far more natural in its stillness than it had been in its movements.

"Not a real life, mind you," said Voldemort, "But tonight is a night for three sacrifices.  It begins with death unto death, it ends with life unto death--our friend Wormtail will help us with that--and in between...in between is reserved for you."  Voldemort's eyes glittered, much like the ruby eyes of the carved snake.  "I'm sure your adopted father has made you familiar with Rapio Memoria?"

Time slowed down.  Harry could hear his breath rasping in his throat.  In a daze, he looked out over the water, watching the little boat drifting, empty, across the lake.  "The curse you used on my mum.  The one that stole..."

"Her memories, yes.  Much of her life, one might say.  What is life, after all, but a series of moments stored away?  I need life to restore my power, to recreate the moment of my demise.  Life unto life."  He grinned with pointed teeth.  "Your life taken into mine." 

The Inferi pushed Harry to his knees.  Bits of sand and rock pressed through his jeans.  Harry took a deep breath, struggling to find the calm strength he'd had just a few moments ago. 

Voldemort hobbled forward, wand outstretched.  He traced the tip of the wand along Harry's scar.  "All those moments of your life, ready to be plucked.  Your mother was lucky.  I only took a fragment.  With you, I will take it all."

A thud reverberated behind them.  Voldemort turned, and Harry could see Wormtail--Snape--fist against the glass, his face pale.

"Not now, Wormtail," hissed the Dark Lord.  "There is no point in begging for mercy." He turned back towards Harry, moving the tip of the wand down to his temple.  "The entire process should not take long, and then I can complete the ritual."

And then I can complete the ritual.  Once Voldemort had finished with Harry, he would take Snape's life.  Harry struggled in the firm grip of the Inferi.  He couldn't save himself, let alone Snape.  And soon they would both be dead.  He flashed back to that summer afternoon with his mum, before she had taken Restituomens, when she lay cold and still on the floor, no memories left.  He saw himself in the same position, eyes wide and empty, nothing left inside.  But there would be no recovery for him.

Dead, or as good as.

"None of that," whispered Voldemort.

Harry realized he had his eyes squeezed shut.  Something dry and withered touched the tender skin at the corner of his eyelid, and he jerked back, snapping his eyes open.  "Don't touch me."

"Oh, we are about to become far more intimate than that," said Voldemort.  "Let's start with something simple, shall we?  Quidditch, perhaps."  The length of knotted yew jabbed towards him. 

Harry was pulled away, inside himself, and those slitted eyes were following him, down into a dark well. 

The island disappeared, and then he was holding the handle of a broom tightly, the grip smooth and warm in his hands.   The wind whistled past his ears, chilling them until they tingled.  Below, the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch formed a tidy square of green.  It was one of his own memories, he realized. 

The skin on his back tingled with the sizzle of magic, and a sibilant voice was murmuring in his ear.  He couldn't grasp the meaning of the words, but they were as sharp as hooks, dragging their way across the landscape.  A few soft hisses, and the broom ruptured, splintering into pieces between his hands.  The wind faded into silence, and he was falling in the darkness, trying to hold onto the memory like a wisp of smoke.

Then it was gone. 

The voice reached inside him again, and he was catching a snitch in the golden sunlight, watching as Snape raised his wand to direct another at him, and another. 

The onslaught abruptly stopped, and Harry collapsed to the ground. 

"Traitor," spat Voldemort.  "To take in my enemy..."  

Harry blearily looked up.

The hideous, shrunken creature stood a foot taller now.  Its body had filled out, and it stood straight, no longer hunched over.  As Voldemort moved closer, the walk was even, his hobbling gait gone. 

"You see?  You have something to offer me, worthless though you are.  A quirk of the spell I used on your mother.  Even the barest delving into your memories increases my strength.  Imagine  what power I will gain when I strip everything away."

He tapped his wand against his lips, smiling like a child in a chocolate shop.  "What shall I take this time?  Something closer to your heart, I think."  The smile grew wider.  "Ah yes.  Your little Mudblood mother." 

Fingers reached inside Harry's mind and ripped.  A memory spilled out: an afternoon at Spinner's End, the rain pattering on the roof as Harry sprawled out on the sofa, a book on his knees.  His mum curled beside him, and she was saying something, giggling, but he couldn't hear her.  Those withered hands were there, scratching, pulling, until the book in front of him was blurry and distant, the smell of the pine house receded, and the feel of the worn upholstered sofa fell away from fingers.  He was left grasping nothing in the darkness, searching for some scrap of what had been there.

The hands moved inside him again, digging deeper for the remaining memories he had of his mum. 

Harry pushed back, and for a moment he was back on the island, sand seeping into his shoes, his scalp itchy from sweat.   Through a headache so intense it rattled his teeth, he squinted at Voldemort.

The shriveled figure had grown even more, lengthening to the same height as Harry.  The Inferi pulled Harry to his feet so he was eye to eye with the dark wizard.  In the bottle, Snape was mouthing words, his eyes closed in concentration, his wand tip pressed against the glass.  The white of a hairline fracture could barely be seen.  The single line moved outward from the wand tip, the progress as slow as a trail of ants. 

Harry mentally urged it on, then buried the thought as best he could.  Voldemort could not see Snape's efforts from this angle, but the Dark Lord would be in Harry's mind again soon, seeing his every thought.  He wished that he and Snape could be far away from here, and stared out towards the lake again, towards the empty boat, drifting towards the island again.  Escape was so close, but just out of reach.

"A weak attempt," breathed Voldemort. "You cannot stop me." 

Harry was pulled down again, into the sound of glass shattering as he threw a picture at a stone wall, the scent of lilacs as red hair swept against his arm, a warm hand settling on his head.

No, he wasn't going to let those moments go, he wasn't.  He shoved back, drawing on what he'd learned from Snape about mental battles. 

It wasn't enough.  The force was too powerful. 

He diverted the attack, leading them both towards other, darker places.  A green flash of light as his mother screamed, a dark cupboard under the stairs, a large red face screaming at him.  Yes, Harry thought.  Take those instead...

The tearing, ripping sensations inside him abruptly stopped.  Harry reeled back, his arms squeezed painfully as the Inferi held him in place. 

Voldemort bared his teeth.  "What trick is this?" he hissed at Harry, then turned to the man in the bottle.  "The death of the mother, the other memories...you have brought me an imposter!"

Snape's eyes were unusually bright.  "Give me another chance, my Lord.  I will take the boy away, discover his secrets..."

"No," said Voldemort, his fingernails idly tracing the skin of his neck.  "His memories still give me strength, but...such strange memories.  This makes me unhappy, Wormtail.  You should have uncovered such secrets before you brought him to me.  It makes me impatient to begin your part in the ritual.  You have lived far too long as it is."

He whipped his wand at the bottle, and the sand at Snape's feet shifted and grew.  It piled around his ankles, building up around the glass walls.  It would only be a matter of minutes before the sand rose above his head and suffocated him.  Snape would only have a chance if Voldemort were distracted from his attempts to escape.

Harry looked at Snape fighting the rising sand.  Voldemort was wrong.  Memories were not all that made up a life.  A life was made by the people in it, by the love you gave them, and the choices you made for them. 

Harry knew what choice to make now. 

When he felt the dark presence in his mind again, he didn't fight it.  He led it to the memories the wizard wanted.  A gentle hand on his brow at night, the sight of his mother being given her potion, the flicker of silver as Snape's Patronus helped his mum on her mind's healing journey.  Memories of happiness and love--they were all he had, and he gave them away, for the man who was here for him, who needed him.

It was there again: the scent of moss, like the breath of the forest. 

Harry inhaled deeply, knowing that soon his memories would be gone.  Everything that he had lived through, who he had become, would be ripped from him.  Through the mire of images, he looked out over the water. 

The boat was no longer floating on the lake.  A deep current underneath the still waters must have moved it back.  It had settled on the shore of the island. 

He hoped it would give Snape the chance to escape.  He hoped his sacrifice would make the difference between life and death for him.  He hoped, because soon hope would disappear, along with everything else.

Harry closed his eyes, and the inrush of Voldemort's mind filled his senses, devouring him. 

"No one to help you now," said Voldemort.

"Wrong," a voice rang out.  A voice Harry thought he would never hear again.  His mum was here.

The assault within Harry's mind stopped. Harry clung to his memories, making sure they were safe before he opened his eyes.                                                  

Voldemort, now as tall as a man, was stock-still.  Lily stood a few feet away, the fiery sweep of her hair visible even in the faded light of the cave.  Her wand was aimed directly at the Dark Lord's throat.  "Move away from him."

Voldemort sneered at her.  "Do you think you can stop me?  You couldn't remember your own name when I left you last, and that was more than you deserved."

"I may not remember much," said Lily, her eyes flashing, "but I remember you."  Her wand whipped forward.

An arc of light stuck Voldemort in the throat.  He opened his mouth, and a stream of water gushed out.  He fell back with a gargle, gesturing towards the Inferi. 

The Inferi dropped Harry and moved as one towards his mum.

Harry reached the bottle in seconds.  The sand was now up to his neck, and Snape lifted his chin, gasping for air as he frantically tried to weave another spell.  Harry glanced back towards his mum, who had fired her wand at the Inferi.  One of the Inferi screeched as a swarm of pebbles rose from the water and dove at him, rattling as they slammed against his head.  When Harry turned back towards Snape, he had disappeared.  The bottle was overflowing with sand.

Harry pounded against the glass prison.  The hairline cracks along the glass lengthened across the surface.  He shoved at the center of the splintering web, and rebounded back onto the ground. 

The bottle tilted, and a figure swam to the surface.  There was one last moment, where he was able to look into those eyes, Wormtail's eyes, but eyes that he knew...and then they were swallowed by the sand. 

"No," whispered Harry.  He crouched into a starting position, and launched himself towards the bottle.  The impact slammed into his shoulder like white light, and he fell.  He opened his eyes to see the edifice, heavy with sand, teetering in a strange balancing act.  It hovered over him, its shadow falling across his body.

The stillness was broken with a loud crack, and then came the musical sound of the bottle shattering into millions of tiny shards.  An avalanche of glass and sand hurtled towards him. Harry held up his arms in defense.

"Protego!" shouted a familiar voice.  A shield formed around Harry and the glass and debris bounced away.

Through the sea of swirling grit settling around him, a prone dusty figure appeared a few feet away.  The plumpness of the figure was melting into a thin form as the Polyjuice lost its effect. 

Pushing through the dissolving shield spell, Harry rushed forward, tripping and falling onto the figure.  "You're all right?" he gasped.

The figure gave a grunt of discomfort.  Raising himself on his elbows, Snape turned his head to the side and spit out sand.  "In a manner of speaking."  He opened his hand, and a wand unearthed itself from the debris and landed neatly in his palm.  He held it out to Harry.  "And you?  You're well?" 

"My wand!" said Harry, then realized Snape's eyes were searching his.  "I'm fine.  Or I will be."  Harry thought of the memories he'd lost, of that horrible empty spot in the center of his mind where Voldemort had been.  "I lost some things...but I found something.  I found..."  He stopped, embarrassed.  He wanted to say what he felt, but was afraid that he would muck it up, that his attempt to name the thing would destroy it.  "I found...my wand," he finished. 

"You found your wand," repeated Snape, brushing sand away from Harry's face.  His eyes were still scrutinizing Harry's, as if looking for a visible wound.  He seemed to find none, as the dark lines around his eyes relaxed. 

"You helped me," said Harry, trying to find a way to say more.  Perhaps Snape would understand. 

But Snape was frowning, as though focused on another thought.  "Cutting it a bit close."

"I don't..." Harry began, but saw Snape was looking upward, past Harry's shoulder.  Harry looked behind him, but didn't see anything...until he looked down and saw a line of sandy footprints that stopped near them. 

"A simple 'thank you' would be more appropriate," said a voice, and Remus Lupin's disembodied head appeared in the air.  It was followed by his shoulders and body, and then Remus was standing there in his entirety, a shimmering cloak draped over his arm. 

"My Invisibility Cloak," said Harry.  He mumbled thanks to Remus for his protective spell, feeling himself flush at how ungrateful he sounded.  But Remus had interrupted something important.  "How did you get here?"

Snape and Remus stared at him as if to say, Isn't it obvious? 

Harry's brain caught up.  The Invisibility Cloak..."The empty boat."

Remus smiled.  "Not so empty."  Behind Lupin, an Inferi lumbered towards them. 

Snape grumbled as he pulled himself up.  The Inferi was close now, dragging its feet through the footprints in the sand.  Snape stabbed his wand towards it, and a stream of insects erupted from the air, diving towards the Inferi's mouth.  The creature clawed at its throat and tumbled to the ground.  "Took your time about it."

"The boat was hesitant about taking us across," said Remus, hurling the mound of sand and glass at the Inferi, burying it.  "A curse-damaged witch and a werewolf...I don't think it knew what to do with us."

"The information we pried from Wormtail was quite clear,"  Snape growled as the trio ran towards the battle near the shore. 

Lily was holding off the Inferi, but now they were advancing.  Voldemort had recovered and was struggling to stand, his wand whipping towards the lake.  There was a disturbance in the water, and two more Inferi rose and climbed towards the shore. 

Remus headed towards the shore to fight the Inferi emerging from the lake, and Snape moved towards Voldemort.  Harry ran for his mum, already firing stunning spells at the two Inferi that had grabbed her arms.

One of the spells struck, and the Inferi stumbled to one knee.  It dropped its hands from Lily, and she took the chance to slam her elbow back into the one still standing.    She broke from its grip as the second one recovered, levering itself to its feet.

Harry stopped at his mum's side and they both fired off spells, driving the two Inferi back towards the water. 

The sounds of Remus and Snape shouting out spells could be heard from further down the shore.  Snape and Remus were moving back, closer to Harry and Lily.

It took Harry a moment to realize what was happening: they were being herded into a circle.  He was reminded of the night the Dementors surrounded him, leaving him defenseless.

Snape and Remus were at his back now.  They were holding off the Inferi, but just barely. 

His heart pounding against his ribcage, Harry scanned his surroundings.  His eyes landed on the boat and he edged towards it. 

The water was lapping at their heels before Voldemort realized what was happening.  His eyes widened.  The Dark Lord slashed his wand through the air, towards the boat.

Remus stopped him, transfiguring the sand in front of the boat into a steel door.  The curse bounced off it, a black scorch-mark left in its wake. 

Harry dove for the boat, scrambling over its rim.  "Come on!" he shouted. 

Remus grabbed the steel door and rammed the Inferi back with it, causing their bodies to block Voldemort's curse.  One of the Inferi made an unearthly screech as the curse turned its right arm into wriggling maggots. 

Snape pulled back, shouting something at Lily.  She shook her head, yelling over the noise of the blasts of magic.  With an exasperated jerk of his arm, Snape's wand crashed down, and a sandstone wall surged up from the shore, cutting Lily off from the battle--and Snape.  She slammed her fist into it, then pulled away and ran for the boat. Pushing off from the shore, she leapt in.

"Wait," Harry said, tugging on her arm.  He gestured at the sandstone wall, slowly disintegrating from the charms and curses hitting it as Snape and Remus continued the battle.  "They won't make it to the boat."

"They're not coming.  Severus made that perfectly clear," said Lily. Her face was flushed with anger, but her eyes were wet.  "The boat will only take two."

Harry's hands gripped the edge.  The boat glided silkily over the water.  Below, the bodies of hundreds of Inferi lay silent and waiting.  "We'll go back.  I'll stay."

Lily pulled Harry close, holding him tight.  "When we heard about the enchantment on the boat, we knew it might come to this."

Harry stared at the curved bottom of the boat, trying to mentally push it back to the island. 

But the boat glided on, towards a dock on the far side of the cave.  A section of Snape's wall tumbled down, revealing two of the Inferi down and unmoving.  Light surged from Voldemort's wand, striking Snape in the chest.  He twisted and fell. 

"No!" screamed Harry, the sound echoing over the water. 

Voldemort's head whipped towards the noise, and another blast of light headed towards the boat, steaming the water as it rushed towards them. 

"Harry," Lily gasped.  He felt the heat of the oncoming fireball, and burning light filled his vision.  "Jump!" 

Fingers grabbed the back of his shirt, and he was yanked backwards.  His feet left the bottom of the boat, and the heat disappeared in an icy splash.  There was a moment of splintering wood and smoke, and then everything became a muffled echo as he was submerged in murky blue.  

He reached out with his arms and legs, encountering another set of limbs, and a trail of long hair.  Mum.  He grabbed her hand, and she clutched it. 

Harry began to feel a tightness in his lungs.  He kicked back and forth, moving towards the surface. 

The hand in his jerked suddenly, hauling them both downward.  Something was dragging her down to the bottom of the lake.  Inferi--there must be more down here.  He searched for the dim light of the surface.  Harry squeezed his mum's hand tightly. 

She squeezed back.  And the warmth of it made him feel like they weren't in this place at all, but somewhere peaceful and filled with light.  He was drowning, he realized.  The light faltered, and darkness surrounded him.

His mum's fingers opened and pulled away, into the cold depths.

Harry floated upwards, towards the surface, away from his mum. She'd let him go.  She'd let herself be pulled down so that he could escape. 

Snape had fallen, and his mum was drowning.  Flashes of his dream came back to him, of his helplessness as his parents had prepared to face death.  But this was no dream, and he wasn't going to let himself be helpless again.  Twisting his body, he reached for her. 

Then another hand--stronger, colder--reached up from below and wrapped around Harry's ankle.  With a wrench, he was pulled down, into the embrace of something mindless and relentless. 

His lungs burned as he was pulled down further.  The water was as thick as molasses now, and every movement was an effort.  He stopped struggling, wishing vaguely that the arms around him would stop crushing him, wishing that his mum were holding him instead.  A thin trail of bubbles wound away from his mouth, towards the distant surface. 

With a sudden sparkle, the bubbles doubled, then tripled. They crowded around him, fizzing against his skin.  The froth danced everywhere, crackling like static in his ears.  In an explosion of air and light, the water was gone, and he was falling to the soggy lake bottom, coughing, taking gulping breaths of damp air. 

The Inferi had loosened its grip during the fall. Harry kicked back, shoving the creature away from him.  He stumbled across the muddy ground, searching through the thick fog that surrounded him.  He wiped his fingers across the condensation on his glasses, leaning against a dripping rock wall, and peered into the rolling steam.

A pinprick of light appeared, feeble in the haze.  It grew as it approached, until the glow revealed the wand attached to it.  Lily appeared out of the mist, her hair plastered to the sides of her face.  The shadows around her eyes disappeared when she saw him, and she rushed forward. 

"What happened?" gasped Harry.

"Ebullio.  Although not like any bubbling charm I've ever seen.  Turned the lake into..." she waved her hand through the white, swirling vapor, "...this.  He found us."  She pointed towards a cliff face, one that used to be the distant lake shore, near the cave entrance.  A light was beaming outward, burning away the fog surrounding it.

Dumbledore stood in the center of that light, his wand aloft.  He threw up a shimmering shield, one that was soon struck by a jagged slash of lightning, cast from the island beyond. 

"Professor!" Harry shouted.  "We're down--"

Lily's hand wrapped around his mouth.  "Shh!" she hissed.  "Listen."

There was a rustling, like thousands of rats moving against each other.  The sounds grew louder as the things moved through the mud.

Harry shivered and rubbed his hands briskly over his damp skin.  He squinted through the fog, but could see nothing.  He and his mum moved slowly backwards until the hard surface of a jagged rock face pressed up behind them. 

The mist moved fitfully now, jerking back and forth in an odd rhythm.  The whiteness solidified, and the random movements turned out to not be random at all.  It was a row of Inferi, pale as bone, stumbling over the bodies of their still-waking brethren and advancing towards them. 

His mum's fingers dug into his shoulder.  "Run," she whispered. 

They turned and, gripping each other by the forearms, tore into the darkness.  Harry did his best to shield his mum as they ran, to protect her from the approaching Inferi.  Snape and his mum were willing to risk their lives to protect him, and he wasn't going to let them die for his sake.  He would do his best to keep them from making the sacrifice his mum and dad had made in his world. 

The fog batted at Harry like a living thing, cold on his hands and face.  A  twisted rock reared up through the mist.  They veered, and slammed into another wall.  His mum fell, her hands sinking into the slime of mud and seaweed. 

The mist moved again, and the Inferi were closer now, reaching for them.  Harry tugged at his mum, using the weight of his body to drag her to her feet, and they stumbled forward, into deeper muddy hollows.   

They were trapped in a nightmare, running in slow motion through the thick ooze.  Zigzagging through the maze of rocks and caves, Harry could barely see what was in front of them...or what was behind them.   

They reached a cave that sloped down below the lake bottom.  Inside, the glow of their wands was the only source of light.  Their panting echoed against the dripping walls, the air thick in Harry's throat. 

"We'll wait here," said Lily, pressing them both against a wall eroded by the currents of the water.  Holes in the wall gaped like empty mouths.  "Just for a moment, and then--"

An explosion of stone interrupted her.  Sand and debris flew in their faces.  A slimy white hand emerged from the enlarged hole, grasping at Lily, wrapping around her neck. 

Lily aimed her wand back towards the hand, but her incantation was choked off. 

"Incendio!" cried Harry.

The spark sputtered and died in the damp atmosphere.  Then hands were upon him, dragging him away from his mother, into the mud.  They were too strong for him.

Through the haze, another spark blazed in the darkness.

He tried to call out to his mum, to tell her Incendio wouldn't work, but a heavy hand muffled him.  He watched the spark smear across the wet air.

But it wasn't smearing; it was lengthening.  The spark had become a glow of silver light.   It probed the darkness, searching for something--or someone.   

Harry let out a breath.  The breath wisped between the fingers clamped around his mouth and curled towards the light.  As his puff of breath touched the light, the spark exploded, streaming outwards towards the mouth of the cave and into the lake bottom.  Harry's heart leapt.  Someone was still alive out there, looking for them.

One second ticked by, then two.  Then a dark figure was silhouetted in the cave entrance.  "Glacialis!"

The mist in the air solidified into tiny shards of ice.  The shards turned their sharp edges towards the Inferi holding Harry and Lily, and attacked.  Their grip weakened as the blades peppered their moldering faces and hands. 

Harry pulled himself free and staggered forward, into the weight of Snape's arms around his shoulders.  His body sagged in relief.  Snape and his mum were all right.  And he was going to make certain they stayed that way.

Snape urged him onward.  "The Headmaster and Lupin are holding back as many of the Inferi as they can.  Quickly!" 

The cave sloped upwards as they ran.  There was a circle of light up ahead, and they broke through to the larger cavern of the empty lakebed.  Harry heard that rustling again, of bodies against bodies, but amplified a hundredfold.  All the Inferi were awake now.

Light flashed on the sloping hill that had been the island, as Remus and Dumbledore fought against Voldemort and the Inferi surrounding them.  The Inferi on the lake bottom were climbing the hill, clawing their way towards their enemies.  But when Harry and the others emerged from the cave, they turned, ready to grasp onto new prey.

Snape flung out a curse, his voice like splintering wood.  Magic hissed through the air.   

Harry knocked away grasping hands, shoving against them for enough room to use his wand.  Snape was near him, saying something, but Harry couldn't hear over the noise of crashing bodies and shouted hexes.  Harry followed Snape's gaze to the rocky overhang above.  Lily was at his side, and they both directed their wands upward.  They shouted "Palpito!" and a pulse emitted from their wands, heading up.  Harry followed suit.

The sound waves reached the roof.  With a loud crack, rocks the size of cauldrons fell on the nearest Inferi.  The creatures thudded to the ground. 

"Move!" shouted Snape, heading for the slope that would take them outside. 

The Inferi were everywhere, grabbing at them, their foul breath on Harry's neck.  Harry shoved at them, but they closed around the little group.  Harry was lifted off his feet as the bodies pressed in, and he looked up, gasping for air.  The large overhang that spread across the roof trembled.  Dust trickled down to the lake bottom.

Harry caught a flash of a purple robe.  Through the Inferi, he saw Dumbledore and Lupin headed towards them.  Inferi surrounded them, and they were lost underneath a thicket of white limbs.

The Inferi were everywhere.  They weren't going to make it out of the cave.  They would become like the bodies surrounding them--lifeless, mindless.  Harry couldn't let that happen.  He took one last aim at the overhang, and summoned every spark of magic he could feel inside him, every longing he had to protect those he loved.  "Palpito!"  he roared.  An arc of light hit the spot where the overhang latched to the roof of the cave.

The dust became a sprinkling of debris, then a shower.  The Inferi swarming around them paused, as if listening.  It was only then that Harry felt it: a trembling that ran under their feet. 

In an explosion of sound, a pile of Inferi fell back as Dumbledore and Lupin emerged from the center.  Dumbledore's face was set in tight lines.  "Go!"

Harry grabbed fistfuls of mud and rock as he climbed his way towards the shore.  He took one last look back. 

With a crack that split his eardrums, the overhang toppled over, into the lakebed, and onto the Inferi below, like ants under a boot heel.  And amidst it all, still on the island, Voldemort stood with his wand raised, his body glowing with a fierce red light, screaming at them.  He cast his wand towards them, and a sliver of darkness shot towards them.  And then he disappeared amid the rubble as the cave collapsed in on itself. 

A hand grabbed his, and he stumbled through a rough-hewn stone doorway.  Out in the open air, on a cliff face, the wind pushed against them.  Beyond the cliff, waves crashed into foam around jagged rocks far below. 

Over the noise of the wind and the waves, the five of them stood panting.  Snape had paled, and was holding his hand against his side.

The waves seemed to crash into the side of the cliff with excessive force, until Harry realized that he was feeling the vibrations of the cave-in.  The cliff shuddered with each reverberation of the turmoil inside. 

Harry moved towards Snape, feeling deep gratitude.  "I knew you'd come for me," he said.

He felt Dumbledore's hand rest on his shoulder from behind.  "It was Severus who captured Pettigrew, learned the secrets of this place.  We wouldn't have managed, otherwise."

Harry nodded.  On this tiny slab of rock over a turbulent sea, he'd never felt safer. 

Snape said nothing, still breathing heavily.

"Oh come now, Severus," said Dumbledore.  "Surely the race out here didn't take that much out of you?"  He paused, and then, "Severus?"

Snape's face was waxy now, and his hand still clutched his side.  Harry ran to him and tugged at the hand.  Snape's arm dropped, and the folds of his sleeve fell away to reveal the handle of Voldemort's knife buried into his left side.  Harry knew now what that slip of black that Voldemort had cast towards them had been.  The knife handle glittered with dark magic.  He thought back to the Inferi the Dark Lord had killed with that dagger, and imagined that inky black liquid seeping out of the wound and through Snape's body. 

Snape fell to his knees, gasping.  Dumbledore kneeled beside him, pressing a hand to his heart.  "My dear boy," Dumbledore said.  "We must get you back to Hogwarts."

With great effort, Snape shook his head.  "Lily," he said. 

Lily was at his side in an instant.   She tilted her head, listening to his whispered instructions, and then they both raised their wands as one.  Lacy lines of silver appeared, fluttering together into a soft, four-legged creature.  The doe approached Severus, dipping her head near his. 

Snape reached up with a trembling arm and brushed his fingers along her neck.  Pinpricks of light appeared where his fingertips touched her.  Trails of silver glowed underneath his skin and Snape closed his eyes, his brows pinched together.  The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks echoed along the cliff as the moment stretched like a taut wire. 

Snape let out a groan and shook his head.  The doe stepped away, her head bowed low to the ground. 

"Not enough," Snape said, opening his eyes. 

Remus stood near Dumbledore, his hands clenched around his elbows.  "But you've said before that the healing power of the Patronum Totus is like none other.  Bragged about it, really..."

Snape glanced at Harry, but flicked his gaze quickly away.  "Patronum Duos," he said, holding up two fingers.  "Not powerful enough for the Dark Lord's curse."

"But can't Harry--" Remus began, then stopped abruptly.

Patronum Totus.  Harry remembered a summer afternoon at Spinner's End, when Snape and his mum had showed him a single doe created by two spells.  They had explained that it used to be three, that when all members of a family have the same Patronus, it can bind the family's power together.  It made them safer, offered them healing magic that wasn't available to others.

Harry had seen their surprise when he'd shown him that his Patronus was a stag.  His father-James Potter's-Patronus.  The man who had died for him, so long ago.  In many ways, he had been born in that sacrifice.  It was a part of his parents--the parents of the other world--that he carried with him. 

He kneeled in front of the crumpled figure.  "The other Harry," he began.  "You could create the Patronum Totus with the other Harry?"

Snape nodded, the movement a mere shadow. 

Harry settled on his heels.  He needed to go back, so his other self could return.  

Protection.  Healing.  Home.  That was why the Patronus had come here.  Harry gazed out over the foaming waves of the sea, each one sharp and clear as they broke against the rocks. 

That was why he had come here, too. 

He kneeled in front of the man he had once hated.  He'd spent the past months fighting a war with memory itself.  He'd clung so tightly to the memories of old hurts, and waged a war for their sake, not seeing what was right in front of him.

But he could see who was in front of him now.  He took Snape's hand. A more recent memory came to him.  "That day in the garden, you said I could be your little one, for a while longer."

The hand squeezed back.  "Yes."

Harry managed a smile, for Snape.  "That while is over now."

Snape shook his head, pulling Harry closer.  "Never."

Harry fell into an embrace between Snape and his mum, the warmth of their bodies sheltering him from the sharp wind.  Another tremor lanced through the cliff. 

"It's all right," said Harry--and it was.  Now he knew what to do.  He knew the kind of man he could be.                                           

His mum reached over and grasped their hands.  Harry held on to both of them, this moment making up for any taken by Voldemort.  He leaned into Snape's shoulder.  He had no trouble finding the words to say now.  "I would have been proud," he whispered, "to be your son."

"I am proud," said Snape. 

"We both are," said his mum.  "Always."

Harry didn't say anything more, feeling the weight of their arms as he listened to the crashing of the waves.  When he looked up, he saw the silver doe, still standing near Remus and Dumbledore, her head tilted questioningly. 

Snape gestured towards her, his breath more ragged now. 

Harry nodded, the knowledge clicking into place on an intuitive level, as if it had always been there, waiting to be found.  "She can help me."

"Guide you...but you must take...the first step..."

Harry took a deep breath and stood.  The wind still buffeted him, but he stood strong.  He stepped towards the Patronus and held his hand out to her.  The tip of her nose touched his fingertips, and he felt a warmth run through him, an echo of a familiar place he'd almost forgotten.  He took one last look at Dumbledore and Lupin, but he didn't look back at his parents.  He didn't need to. 

"I'm ready," he said. 

The world shimmered, and he felt himself floating.  The doe was more solid now, her silver fur soft as he wrapped his arm around her neck.  He looked down, and saw that he was floating high over the cliff, the figures on it like a silent tableau: Snape and Lily, huddled together, with Dumbledore and Remus standing near them.  And his own shape, lying prone on the ground, his eyes shut as if in sleep.

He stared at the doe wonderingly, and heard a voice in his head.  Home.

The world swirled away in a spray of white.  The smell of moss caught him, pulled him somewhere new.  A forest sprung up around him, a narrow pathway before him.  The dirt was as soft as powder under his feet, spurting upward in tiny sprays as he walked.  The doe walked beside him, lighting the way through shadowy trees.  If he looked too closely at anything, it wavered.  This world was fragile, he sensed, but it could lead him home.  But the paths between the trees split in every direction, and he did not know the way.

He looked at the doe.  "What do we do now?"

The voice was inside his head again. Hope.

Harry stared at the paths stretching out in front of him.  He closed his eyes, and did as the Patronus asked.  He hoped.