"What happened?" Connor repeated. "Are you ok? Do you want me to get Snape?"

"Yes-No! No- I don't know! Oh God, I need to think. To figure this out. What this can all mean." Harry began to pace rapidly, clutching his head. He stopped abruptly beside the lake, staring into the murky water in the faint shafts of moonlight.

Connor watched him anxiously. Harry's robe was rumpled in disarray where he'd be flung it on hastily, what with that and his general agitation he looked as if he was coming apart at the seams.

"Harry?"

Kneading his temples with his fists, Harry made a visible effort to calm down. He picked up his wand from where it was lying on the ground beside Connor and shoved it into his pocket.

"Let's head back," he said at last.

They walked back in silence. Connor kept shooting worried glances towards Harry, but to no avail as the other boy was deliberately avoiding looking him in the eye, as if any further questions or sympathy might shatter his tenuous mask. As soon as they were back in their dorm Harry headed for the bathroom to lock himself away.

In the privacy of the bathroom Harry transformed again and scrambled about in an ungainly fashion trying to see his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He ended up precariously balanced with his hind legs on the side of the bath tub and his front paws resting in the sink. Staring at his canine form he felt unable draw his eyes away; he was so similar to Padfoot. True, he wasn't identical, for one thing he was markedly smaller, his muscles less defined than his godfather's form which he knew so well, but he was still similar enough that at first glance it would be hard to tell the difference.

How could this happen? Harry remembered Hermione banging on about her research into the Animagous transformation; she'd definitely said that it seemed to run in families. He'd thought at the time that perhaps he'd end up being a stag like his dad had been. Well, Sirius certainly wasn't a relative of his, but he was the closest thing to family that Harry had ever had: the only person who'd ever wanted to give him a home. And of course if Sirius had still been here he would have been his adoptive father by now.

Toppling off the bath tub, Harry landed inelegantly on the floor. His Animagus form felt strange, his centre of gravity was off somehow, but emotionally if felt vastly better to his human form. It wasn't that he didn't feel sad or scared as a dog; it was just different: muffled somehow, as if his feelings were filtered out a little by his canine mind. It was as if he was somehow too distracted to think straight, like he'd gulped back a few stiff fire-whiskeys which had softened the world around the edges.

On the cold, hard bathroom floor Harry curled up and resting his chin on his paws and tail drifted off the sleep.

The next morning Harry was woken by clatter and banging on the other side of the bathroom door. Shocked back into his human form, he found himself sprawled alongside the clothes he'd been wearing the night before. Dressing hurriedly, he noticed the tub of ointment protruding from his pocket and smeared a little more on his burns which were still smarting a little. He then slipped out of the bathroom and past Jasper, who was waiting outside.

"Have you been in there all night? Are you ill or something?"

"I'm fine," he said blankly and ignoring the stares from the other boys, hurried off without a backward glance. Connor was dressed already and wasted no time in setting off beside Harry. Without a word the two boys traipsed through the Slytherin common room and along the corridor.

"So," Connor said at last when they came to a stop.

"I need to speak to Ron and Hermione," Harry said awkwardly. They'd came to the foot of the great stairs, the junction where you could either head up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower or continue along the corridor towards the Great Hall.

"You don't want me with you, do you?" Connor asked, his voice slightly tight.

"I'm sorry." Harry didn't have the time or inclination to keep up pretences. "I've known them for years, I've only known you for about four weeks. There's some stuff-"

"You tell them, but not me," Connor finished for him. "Well, thanks for remembering that when you made me tell them my secrets."

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, this time more genuinely, the Irish boy had shared his secrets and trained them; but he couldn't take Connor with him. There's too much he doesn't know, like the fact that Severus is training me...

"Yeah." Connor's voice was level, but Harry could tell from his face that he was exasperated. "I think you actually are; and maybe one day if you ever tell me what the fecks going on, I'll actually be able to help you."

Giving Harry a long look, he left him at the foot of the stairs. Harry hesitated for just a moment before starting to climb the seven flights up to the Gryffindor tower.

Hermione's reaction was predictable. "You need to tell Dumbledore," she insisted at once.

Harry looked at Ron who nodded his agreement. He'd dragged them both into his old dorm so they could speak privately while everyone else was at breakfast; the two boys were sat on Ron's bed while Hermione was perched on the edge of Neville's.

"Those dreams... about Severus- about Snape-" Harry said. "Well he wouldn't do those things. He just wouldn't."

"It could all be an act, Harry," Hermione said gently. "Maybe Dumbledore cast some kind of protection on you which stopped Snape from being able to harm you this summer-"

"No." Harry shook his head resolutely. "I just can't believe he's a traitor, him being a bastard, yes; being mad at me, sure; but giving me up to Voldemort, selling out on Dumbledore and the order; no. I know what he's like now and although I don't think he'll ever really like me, on some level he-" Harry hesitated. He'd been about to say "he cares," but he wasn't sure that was what he meant. It wasn't easy to put whatever kind of relationship he had with Severus into words. It isn't like it is with Malfoy, where Severus considers him practically family; I'll never get that kind of unconditional support from him.

"He doesn't want me to get hurt," he said at last. "Really hurt I mean. He wants me to improve, become a stronger wizard so Voldemort is less likely to harm me. I'm sure of that. I mean, I've spent the last couple months around him practically all the time and why else would he have taught me the stuff he has?"

"My parents trust him as well," Ron added. "The whole Order do, well apart from the Aurors, I think."

"Well, there is the other explanation then," Hermione told him, glancing at Ron who nodded, obviously clued into what she was thinking.

"There is? What?"

It was Ron who answered. "The obvious answer, Harry. Hermione and I wondered about it when you first said about the stuff Snape did in your dreams."

Harry looked blankly at him.

"Oh Harry." Hermione couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Since Snape's been training you it's like you think he's omnipotent, and I'm sure that must help you cope with his methods; but you know it's not true. He's a powerful wizard but he's certainly got his share of weaknesses, like anyone else. If he does end up doing those things it could be a result of Imperious."

"It must have crossed your mind?" Ron asked.

"And do you think I was Imperioused as well?" Harry asked flatly. "In my other dreams? Because there's no way I'd go back to my Uncle's without being dragged there."

"You're not going back there," Ron said roughly. "You'll come to mine for Christmas. You think we'd let you go back there?"

"Or you can come to Paris with me and my parents," Hermione told him. "They'd love to have you."

"And Severus said I could stay with him," Harry added pointedly. "Or I could stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, like in the past. But don't you get it, in my dream I go back there."

They were all silent for a long moment.

"In any case," Harry said eventually. "He's a spy. Don't you think Dumbledore would notice the second he was put under Imperious? I mean, Voldemort wouldn't order him to keep feeding Dumbledore information would he?"

"I suppose he could be Polyjuiced," Ron suggested at last, "and it might not be him at all in your dreams."

"The thing is we just can't know, Harry." Hermione got to her feet and paced back and forth. "You need to speak to Dumbledore and tell him;" She began counting the dreams off on her fingers, "about the stuff with Snape, the dreams which have come true for Connor and you, Vulnus Ictus, the Dursleys... all of it."

"And Sirius being in Ireland with the Squib," Harry added. "That's the only good thing through all this."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "But-" she began to protest before hurriedly cutting herself off. Harry was so stoic that it was easy to underestimate how distressing he must be finding all of this, but looking at him now, more dishevelled than ever, grubby and vulnerable, she didn't have the heart to say anything else.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Hermione."

She blushed and shook her head decisively. "It doesn't matter."

Harry sighed. "I think I liked it better when you were forcing me to listen to unpleasant truths," he said earnestly. "You were right about Vulnus Ictus, quite honestly I need to face stuff no matter how horrible it is, so I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about that."

"Ok," she said very hesitantly. "Well, you didn't just have the Squib dream did you? You dreamt he was in Ireland, which makes sense as we know he went there, but Harry, you also dreamt he got badly hurt."

Harry shrugged. "That doesn't mean anything, so he got hurt; he probably got healed and then met the Squib."

"Yesss," Hermione said doubtfully, "but you don't really know what happened first do you? According to Dumbledore and the Order he was in Ireland, before being attacked and it was unlikely that anyone would have helped him. Now that we know that it wasn't him, at Hogwarts while Connor is here, we're no further forward. Your dreams don't really tell you anything more than the Order already knew."

A shuttered look swept over Harry's face.

"I still think the orders wrong about it," he said stubbornly. "I'd know if he was dead."

This time Hermione managed to bite back her incredulity. As far as she was concerned Harry was in denial, but considering the way his world was crashing down around him, she wasn't going to say anything.

"He still trusts Snape," Ron said after Harry'd left, heading back to Slytherin for a much needed shower and change of clothes before lessons began. "Despite everything in all those dreams."

"He wants to believe in him," Hermione corrected him. "There's no way he's not having doubts."

"D'you think he'll tell Dumbledore?"

"He's going to have to," Hermione said grimly. "Because if he doesn't do something about this quickly, I will."

But Dumbledore didn't appear at any of the meals that day, so even if Harry had decided to speak to him, he wouldn't have had the opportunity. Flitwick and McGonagall were also missing by dinner time, although there were still plenty of other Professors around. Hagrid was there next to Trewlaney and Sprout; and right at the end of the half empty Professor's table, as if he was determined to separate himself from his colleagues, Severus sat on his own.

Harry spent the evening in the Gryffindor common room. Curfew had passed by the time he eventually returned to Slytherin and the common room was half empty. Connor was there though; sat next to Jasper and Harry could see his eyes following him as soon as he came in the entrance. He hated that look; all the concern which told him that Connor was going to keep pestering him until he found out exactly what was going on.

"Mr Potter, a word if you please."

It seemed that Connor hadn't been the only one waiting for him. Harry followed Severus, trying hard to hide his reluctance, it wasn't as if he was scared of Severus, despite all the dreams, but he still couldn't help feeling awfully unnerved by the whole situation.

"You didn't come to training," Severus accused when they were inside his office.

"My burns hurt."

Severus looked sceptical. "Really? Even after using the stronger ointment?"

"You can tell, I've used it?" Harry asked in surprise.

Severus nodded. "You're holding yourself differently, as if you're less worried about brushing people and inflaming the injuries."

"The ointment's worked fine," Harry admitted. "I just didn't want to train again until they're completely healed." He hovered by the door.

"That's understandable. Sit down, Harry. We don't need to train if you don't want to."

Harry suddenly felt that he would rather spend time training rather than talking. "I'm tired, I think I'd rather just go to bed..." he said.

"Nevertheless, sit down for ten minutes."

"The ointment is making me feel really sleepy."

Severus' eyes glittered. "I'll be sure to bear that in mind."

Reluctantly Harry sat down on the sofa. "So... do you know where Dumbledore is at the moment?"

Severus' expression took on a guarded look. "Of course, why do you ask?"

"I...just...wanted him to test my occlumency shield," Harry lied. For a moment he'd been tempted to tell Severus the truth about everything, but he wasn't sure how he'd react to being told he might be imperioused, well that and the fact that Harry had kept the dreams hidden from him for so long...And then there was the fact that Severus was training Draco; Harry still felt disturbed by that.

"Really?" Severus drawled, disbelievingly. "And why this sudden urge to test your occlumency skills?"

"Uh, well, when Connor was legilimising me I was worried that he was close to breaking through..."

"That I don't believe for a minute," Severus interrupted in a scathing tone.

"Well, not through exactly, but it was harder to occlude against..." Harry's voice trailed off. Occlumency or no occlumency he'd never been able to lie to Severus and get away with it. "Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard there is, we should have got him to check my shield ages ago," he finished lamely.

"Harry, why don't we stop having this ridiculous conversation and you can tell me what's really going on?"

"There's nothing to tell," Harry replied stubbornly, doing his best to ignore the way Severus was staring at him disapprovingly.

"The wandless training was clearly a mistake as you're not mature enough to cope with the consequences without resorting to childish antics and subterfuges," Severus said at last.

"I can cope just fine. When have I complained about any of it?" Harry replied indignantly.

Severus shook his head. "You are patently unable to distinguish training wounds from real injuries. Yesterday was an attempt to develop your skills, albeit a fruitless endeavour. Do not allow your hurt pride to lead to misgivings between us."

For a moment Harry was tempted to retort that his blisters certainly felt real enough to him, but that wasn't fair; it wasn't Severus' fault that he was hurt any more than it was his own fault that he couldn't cast a wandless shield.

"It's nothing to do with the training," he said quietly. "If I'm having difficulty trusting you it's more to do with what you said yesterday than anything you did."

"I beg your pardon?" Severus replied icily.

"Well, what do you expect? You said you're going to take Draco's side, over anyone else, when it all comes down to it."

"That's what you thought I meant?" Severus sounded appalled.

"What else could you mean?" Harry asked the raw hurt evident in his tone. "You said if Draco became a death eater you wouldn't raise your wand against him, even if he was to attack m... I mean, if he were to attack anyone in the Order."

"You honestly think I'd stand aside and watch him attack you?" Severus said heatedly staring at Harry. "And then what, perhaps applaud after he finished?"

It took all Harry's strength not to recoil, as his worst dream unwillingly flew to his mind.

"Well, I don't know do I?" he said plaintively. "That's the whole point."

There both paused, glaring at one another.

"I thought we knew one another better than that by now," Severus said eventually in a low voice. "Did it never occur to you that, despite appearances to the contrary, Draco might actually choose to align himself with the Order rather than with his father?"

"No," Harry said bluntly. "It didn't. Do you honestly believe he can be on our side?"

"Now more than ever."

"And if he's not, I mean if something changes or it turns out you were wrong and he sides with his Father and Voldemort, what then?"

"Then would be immensely difficult, but I can't pretend I would ever harm Draco, whatever crimes he ended up committing."

"But if he becomes a death eater he deserves to be-" Harry cut himself off. "Not everyone's like you, Severus. You really think he'll do what you did; regret it and become a spy?"

"I think that whatever happens he remains my Godson, whom it is my duty to love and protect rather than smite," Severus replied simply.

Love? It was even worse than Harry had thought.

"Harry, what would you do if you discovered that Miss Granger or Mr Weasley were traitors; do you imagine yourself capable of exacting judgement upon them, destroying your closest friends?"

I could never hurt Ron or Hermione. "But they wouldn't do that," Harry replied decisively.

"But if they did?" Severus pressed him.

"You can't compare it," Harry argued. "I'd never even be friends with someone who was even capable of doing anything like that."

Then he met Severus' eyes and realised that Severus had once been exactly like that.

"We are all capable of committing grievous acts," Severus retorted, his obsidian eyes boring into Harry.

"If the crimes great enough you haven't got a choice," Harry said sombrely, "you'd have to defend yourself and everyone else, no matter who was attacking. Would you really ignore Malfoy's crimes, if he did become a Deatheater? Just stand by and protect him and write off the pain he was causing? The lives he was ruining? The torture and killings of innocent people?"

"Of course not," Severus hissed. "I would intervene for their sakes and his."

"Without harming him?" Harry challenged.

"Indeed. I would find another means to bring the situation to an end."

"And if there was no other way? If you had to take him down?" Harry was relentless.

"There is always another way, Harry, you simply need to be prepared to find it."

The next day Dumbledore was still absent at breakfast time and half the professors also seemed to be missing. McGonagall appeared briefly to announce that lessons were cancelled temporarily and that students were to conduct independent study under the supervision of the prefects. After her short, clipped statement, which gave no real explanation for the unusual situation, the school reacted in wildly differing ways. The lower years, particular the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs cheered at the thought of extra free periods. Of course the majority of Ravenclaw seemed disappointed at the thought of any disruption to their studies, but some of the older students in Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor seemed concerned about the cause of the disruption. Harry noticed that some of the Slytherin students had cast silencing charms and were muttering surreptitiously to one another. Either they already know something about what is going on, or they suspect that something drastic is happening behind the scenes, he realised. Either way, they're not likely to tell me anything.

But it seemed that Harry had underestimated the benefits of having Slytherin dorm mates. When he went back to his room to grab his DADA book, to take with him to work with Hermione and Ron, Jasper was chatting to Theodore. It seemed that although Jasper wasn't privy to the most secretive information, he'd at least caught some of the rumours that were floating around. Apparently there'd been some sort of attack by the Dark Lord, somewhere outside of Hogwarts, and the other Professors had dashed off to help. A lot of the Slytherins were apparently celebrating, which certainly didn't seem to bode well for the Order.

All thought of meeting his friends abandoned, Harry went straight to Severus' rooms and let himself in. The elder wizard wasn't there so Harry sat himself down, determined not to leave until he knew exactly what was going on.

When Severus eventually returned Harry could tell that he had come from a Death-eater meeting, he looked almost as bad as he had done the time Voldemort had tortured him over the summer, although with less visible wounds; this time he wasn't covered in acid burns. He was, however, clearly ill, his skin sallower than ever and he was trembling uncontrollably.

"Harry. What are you doing here?" he asked unwelcomingly, remaining close to the floo and steadying himself on the mantelpiece.

"I- Are you ok, Severus? Did Vold-"

"Harry, just sit back down and be quiet," Severus interrupted through gritted teeth.

"Was it Crucio? Did V-"

"I SAID QUIET!" The Severus roared and Harry shrank back from the sudden noise. The Professor sighed. "It would be better if you just went, Harry. As you can see I am in no mood to train you today."

"That's ok. I just wanted to talk to you anyway, but if you're hurt-"

"The Dark Lord has not harmed me Harry. Just...give me a moment."

Pinching the bridge of his noise, Severus breathed deeply and walked over to the armchair and sank down into it.

The tension was transmitting itself to Harry who found it awful seeing his Professor in such obvious pain. "Can't you take anything?" he urged softly. "That Forgeni potion or something?"

"For the last time I am not hurt; you insufferable, little fool!" Severus bellowed.

Harry sprang to his feet. Sod this, it's not as though I haven't got enough problems of my own. "Well perhaps you need a calming potion then," he said tightly. "You said I could come and talk to you, when I needed to. You asked me to. And I'm here now, but I guess I'll come back sometime when you're not being a complete jerk."

He crossed the room in fast, angry steps.

Severus ran a hand over his face.

"Harry," he called after him. "Wait."

Harry's hand was on the door, but he stopped and turned back.

"Perhaps I do," Severus admitted, and to Harry's surprise wordlessly summoned two vials. He held one out, offering it to Harry, who nodded and approached taking the potion in one gulp whilst Severus drank the second. It wasn't as if a calming potion stood a chance against the after effects of the Cruciatus curse but Harry figured it would be better than nothing for Severus.

Miraculously, it did seem to help with the trembling.

"I apologise," Severus said stiffly. "Today has been... difficult."

"What's going on Severus?" Harry asked earnestly. "Professor McGonagall has been acting weird... Half the staff are missing. People are saying that V-"

"Stop," Severus interrupted him. "If we're to talk, you are not to speak that name."

Harry frowned. "You never minded before."

"I did you infernal boy, I just restrained myself from objecting to every instance of your sheer Gryffindor bloody mindedness!"

"Just say it, Severus. Dumbledore says it just makes people more scared if they don't dare to use his name. Voldemort it's not that hard. Say it!"

Severus winced horribly and shook his head. "No and you're not to carry on using it."

"Why not?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Just trust me Harry and don't meddle with things which you don't understand," Severus replied heavily.

"Does it hurt you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Is it your mark; does it hurt if you say his name, or if you hear me say it?"

"No," Severus answered shortly.

"What then? There must be a reason. What happens if someone says it?"

"Look, Harry, think of it as being at the top of the owlery. You know that the walls are there, and the wards, yet you wouldn't necessarily want to lean over and test them."

Harry frowned.

"Though given your Gryffindor bravado when flying perhaps using heights is a bad analogy," Severus sighed. "It is probably best for you to think of it as a superstition, nothing more."

"If it's a superstition why does it matter?" Harry protested.

Severus glared at him. "Humour me."

"I suppose you'll want me to call him the Dark Lord?" Harry said sarcastically.

"You-Know-Who is acceptable," Severus snapped. "You realise I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't important."

"I'll just avoid his name altogether," Harry decided. "So what has he been up to? The Slytherins are saying that there was an attack."

Severus stood up and paced about the room.

"What else have they said?"

"Nothing much. I don't know. That V- I mean his side came off the better, so the Order must have been hurt right? And that's got to be where Dumbledore, Flitwick and all the Aurors are, and where McGonagall's gone back to? Well?"

"That is correct, as far as it goes."

"Did V- fuck it- did You-Know-Who hurt anyone?" Harry asked in exasperation.

Severus paused in his pacing, his back facing Harry.

"No one has died."

"So why aren't they back here?" Harry was confused. "If they're all ok? And why are the Slytherins celebrating when You-Know-Who didn't really benefit from the attack?"

"They are back here," Severus said gravely. "I've just came from Dumbledore's office."

Something about Severus' gloomy manner scared Harry.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

Severus ran his hand over his face once more and for a moment Harry thought he was going to start yelling again.

"Wait here," he instructed eventually before taking a pinch of Floo powder and calling out, "Albus Dumbledore's office."

Harry watched him disappear into the flames and shifted his weight restlessly from one foot to another for a few moments, but it wasn't long before Severus was back. Stepping out of the fireplace, he reached once more for the floo powder pot.

"He'll see you; in fact he wants to talk to you about something." Something was very wrong, Harry realised. Severus looked ill again and his face was drawn with tension.

Harry reached for the floo powder, but Severus paused holding it out of reach.

"Harry, before we step through, I need to speak to you about something; if Albus requests that you do something extraordinary for him I want you to promise that you will at least discuss it with me privately before making a final decision."

"What's he going to ask me?" Harry replied automatically.

"It's a simple enough request, Harry: just promise me," Severus said commandingly.

"Ok. I'll talk with you first," Harry said agreeably, feeling more and more bewildered.

Without another word Severus thrust the floo powder towards him and they both stepped through into Dumbledore's study.

It wasn't until after Harry had stepped out of the floo that he realised he'd been holding his breath. He wasn't sure what he'd been expected to see in Dumbledore's office but it was certainly a relief to see the Headmaster sat at his desk as serenely as ever. His robes were as garish as usual, a riotous hue of clashing purple and orange.

"Ah, Severus, Harry, take a seat my boys," Dumbledore said, seemingly in an splendid mood.

A quick wordless accio dragged two heavy chairs towards Dumbledore's desk. As they sat down the Headmaster turned to Poppy who was stood beside his desk. "Thank you, we'll continue this discussion later."

"Albus-" she protested.

"I'll drop by in a short while," he insisted brightly, dismissing her. Seemingly reluctant, Poppy made her way to the floo. There was a flutter of scarlet and golden feathers as Fawkes seemed intent on nuzzling his owner's arm.

"Soppy old, bird," Dumbledore said gently shooing his his pet phoenix away from him.

Snape made a short involuntary snorting sound, but when Harry looked at him his face was expressionless.

"Anyone care for a lemon drop?" the Headmaster offered, producing a pot and pushing it towards them.

"No thank you," Harry said quietly.

Severus was less polite, simply shoving the pot to the other end of the table, when it was offered to him.

"Um, Headmaster, could you tell me about what's been going on? The attack from You-Know-Who and everything?"

"You-Know-Who?" Dumbledore repeated mildly, although he wasn't looking at Harry.

Glancing sideways, expecting to see Severus looking defiant and ready to argue his case, Harry was quite unprepared to see a look of utter misery on the Potions Master's face.

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

There were definite undercurrents in the room which Harry couldn't even begin to grasp.

"There was an attack," Dumbledore confirmed, "which has had some highly fortuitous results."

Severus snorted again and Harry turned to stare at him. Springing to his feet, Severus began to pace the office in an agitated fashion. It seemed that the calming potions effect only went so far on him.

Dumbledore ignored him. "As I was saying, we have had some good fortune, firstly, we have managed to destroy something which was immensely valuable to Voldemort, and secondly we have created an opportunity."

"An opportunity?" Harry echoed.

"The Death Eaters believe that I incurred mortal wounds during the attack," Dumbledore said mildly.

"That's why the Slytherins have been whispering to each other!" Harry said. "But you're not hurt?"

Dumbledore waved a hand at himself. "As you can see, I feel that I'm in excellent form."

"I'm going to go," Severus interrupted abruptly. "I believe you wanted to speak to Harry alone anyway, Albus."

"Of course, my dear boy. I would not keep you from your work," Albus' eyes were warm.

"We can talk later," Severus reminded Harry before departing in the floo.

Alone, with the Headmaster, Harry felt uneasy. There was too much confusion surrounding him; he'd never been good with plots and strategy and he didn't like all the undercurrents at the moment.

"I don't think I understand," he said hesitantly. "How does the fact that they think you're dying give us an opportunity?"

Dumbledore leaned forward, clasping his hands together and looking intently at Harry over the tops of his glasses. "My dear boy, imagine if you will what Voldemort's next move is likely to be if he believes me to be weakened?"

"He'll attack!" Harry said slowly. "He's going to attack Hogwarts!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The wards of Hogwarts are under my control but would continue to exist whatever happens to me. When I am no longer Headmaster the wards will be under the new Head's command. It is unlikely that he will strike here."

"Then what...?"

"Harry, do you know why Voldemort hasn't attacked you at Privet Drive in any of the years that you have stayed there?"

"My mum's sacrifice..." Harry replied hesitantly. "She died for me and that left some sort of protection."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Indeed it did, Harry. However what you didn't know, and had no way of knowing is that I have been boosting the wards that her protection left behind. It is part and parcel of a form of magic known as Cloaking, where a wizard's magical essence can be hidden, negated completely, or in the case of Privet Drive strengthened."

"So... You think that You-Know-Who will plan to attack the Dursleys?" Harry couldn't get his head around the logic of this.

"Call him Voldemort, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Yes, in fact we know that is his plan."

"I don't get it," Harry said incredulously, deciding to ignore the issue about Voldemort's name in order to focus upon the new facts. "He thinks you're weak and the first thing he wants to do is attack the Dursleys? And how is it an opportunity anyway; how can any of this possibly help the Order?"

"Ah, well Harry, I know it hasn't escaped your notice that Voldemort has targeted you incessantly over the years," Dumbledore began.

Harry frowned, he wished it could have escaped his notice, but it was kind of hard to ignore someone who murdered your parents and wanted to do the same to you.

"The fact is, my dear boy, that there was a reason which started Voldemort's obsession with you, before you were even born: a prophecy. A premonition which supposedly referred to you suggested that either you or Voldemort would end up killing one another, 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,' were the exact words. However, the reason I used the term 'suggested' is because prophecies are only one possible course of events, some have proved true in the past but others have not. The fact that this prophecy has had such a marked effect on both your lives is because Voldemort believed it, not necessarily because it is true."

"When did you find all this out?" Harry asked, while the words rang around his head: 'Prophecies are one possible course of events.' My dreams- the prophecies may not come true! Dumbledore certainly doesn't seem to set that much store by them!

"Ah, well. What you must bear in mind, Harry, is that when you first came to Hogwarts you had quite enough to cope with discovering the Wizarding world for the first time, let alone hearing about a ghastly prophecy."

"If you've known since then, why didn't you tell me?"

"Harry," Dumbledore said compassionately, "I've known about the prophecy since before you were born. We did everything we could to protect you and your parents from Voldemort."

Harry digested this. They should have told him, perhaps not in the first year but when he was twelve or thirteen he could have coped. It would have saved a lot of wondering on his part, but what was done was done.

"I've always known he was after me, now I know why," he said in dull tones. "But why will that make him attack the Dursleys?"

"Bear with me, Harry. Think about this: If Voldemort and his supporters believe I am dying and I lower the wards accordingly but prepare to apparate in at a moment's notice, we can trap them in one swoop."

Harry stared at him.

"What about the Dursleys? I mean they're hardly the nicest people in the world but I hardly think they deserve to be hexed to death in the cross fire."

"Your concern does you credit Harry. Of course we can arrange for them to be apparated to safety as soon as the Order goes in," Dumbledore told him.

"Well, ok, I guess," Harry said awkwardly.

Why is Dumbledore still looking at me like that, as though he needs my permission or something?

"Harry," Dumbledore's bright blue eyes fixed on him. "What I'm about to ask you is very important, crucial even, to the plan's success."

Harry looked at him, dumbly. Here it comes then, Dumbledore's 'extraordinary request' that Severus said I should talk to him about.

"The fact is, that if I lower my wards at Privet Drive Voldemort will not only be able to attack, he will also be able to see if you are there."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"You want me to go back there," he said feeling shell-shocked, "so that you can trap him?" It's my dream, he realised in horror. Another one, beginning to come true!

"I know it is asking a great deal."

"Can't you trick him? Put my wand there or something?"

Dumbledore shook his head solemnly. "It is the very essence of your magic that he will sense. There is no alternative, believe me if there were I would not ask you."

But my dreams don't have to come true, not if I don't let them. In any case, if I go back to the Dursleys I won't have to worry about Voldemort killing me, Vernon will beat him to it, he thought grimly. After all, Severus says there is always another way; I have to believe that.

He shook his head, briefly remembering and then ignoring his promise to Severus. "I can't do it," he said impulsively.

"My dear boy, I know that you and your relatives parted on bad terms, but we will take every precaution, you would have a port-key on you at all times and could leave at the first sign of danger."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Harry," Dumbledore pressed him. "You would be doing a great service, not just for me, but for the whole order, you understand, think of the lives which we could save. We might never have this opportunity again."

Feeling terrible now, Harry shook his head again. "I can't. I know this must seem awful, but I just can't."

Dumbledore held his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

"I've rushed you; it was unpardonable of me. Much too much to take in all at once, anyone would find it the same. Excuse an old man for getting carried away in his excitement. You need some time to think it over, of course you do; I'm sure that once you've got over the shock of it all everything will seem very different. "

Feeling like a worthless, spineless coward and an utter disgrace to the Gryffindor house, Harry nevertheless spoke up once more.

"I'm sorry," he said sticking to his guns. "But I don't need to think about it, I just can't do it. You'll have to think of a different plan."