Harry sat curled up on the sofa with Draco, watching as Severus paced back and forth, Remus trying to get him to sit down and just relax. The Potions Master sent him a venomous glare and continued pacing in front of the hearth. Aurora had left some time ago to get her rest, though she was extremely saddened and confused by the news Professor McGonagall had told them all.

“No, I cannot relax, Remus! Somewhere, Dumbledore is lying dead! That foolish old man never told anyone where he was going!”

Harry flinched with each word as Draco hugged him closer. Lucius had also taken his leave earlier, giving his condolences and making a quick exit. Remus saw the pale, drawn look on Harry’s face and sighed.

“Harry, Draco; please go to bed. Or if you do not sleep, at least try to rest,” Remus requested, pointing them towards Harry’s room with an exhausted look of pain on his face. As soon as the boys were out of ear shot, Remus stood up and blocked his husband’s pacing pathway.

“Severus, I understand that you are upset; we all are. But you need to think about our son, and what your actions are doing to him. He is on the verge of a breakdown, and you’re supposed to be the one who stays strong for him.”

Severus let his crossed arms fall to his sides as if in defeat, giving his husband a deep look of pain that otherwise would have been hidden from the rest of the world. “What if I cannot do that, Remus? What if I’m not strong enough? Albus is dead.” The Potions Master allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace, leaning his head heavily on the werewolf’s shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth like a lost child.

“Just imagine how Harry feels, if his death is affecting you so. I’m sorry, love,” Remus whispered, holding his husband tightly to his chest as the man shook and tried to fight off the emotions taking him over. They both jumped as the Floo flared to life and expelled the new Headmistress.

“Kingsley has just sent a message; they’ve found Albus.” The Transfiguration Professor looked incredibly tired and saddened as she walked over and pat Severus gently on the shoulder. She knew the younger man had thought of the Headmaster as a sort of surrogate father.

Severus pulled away from his husband and took a deep breath, pulling himself back together before their very eyes. He stood taller, and his face showed much less emotion. “I want to see him.”

Minerva’s expression grew even graver, if possible. She shook her head slowly and indicated that they should all sit down before she explained. The Potions Master reluctantly followed her as Remus gave him a firm push in the right direction.

“I’m afraid the manner in which Albus’ body was left is not one you would want to encounter, Severus. Kingsley was obviously upset himself, and I could only hear it in his voice from his Patronus. I elected to have him picked up by St. Mungo’s until we figure out what we’re to do.”

“What did that bastard do to him?” Remus asked, his mind full of all manner of horrible things. He gripped Severus’ hand tightly as the man seethed with anger and pent up emotions.

“Do you really want to know? If I tell you, will you desist from actually attempting to go see him?” the Headmistress asked, mainly of the Potions Professor. She waited a full minute before the man sighed in defeat and nodded.

“Albus’ body was found submerged in the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Ministry’s Atrium. Written across the tiles in blood was a verse out of the Muggle Bible, or so Kingsley informed me.”

“What did it say?” Severus asked, trying to contain his shock at how bold the Dark Lord was getting. How on earth was he supposed to tell Harry? Was he supposed to tell Harry, or let his son only imagine the Headmaster’s death?

“‘But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, which after He hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him.’”

There was a tense silence as they all digested just what that meant. Remus had been raised by a Wizard father and a Muggle mother, both of which had been Christian. He’d been raised in the church and knew of the Bible verse; Luke 12:5.

“Why would Voldemort use a verse from the Muggle Bible of all things?” Remus asked, wondering how on earth the madman had ever even heard such a thing before.

Minerva could only shrug and shake her head in bewilderment. “I haven’t the slightest clue, Remus. My only guess is that he meant to mock those who support equal rights for Muggle-borns and half-bloods. He always referred to Albus as a Muggle loving fool, even in the first war.”

“He thinks just because he’s taken our leader, that he’s won. He’s gravely mistaken,” Severus snapped. He stood up and moved to his liquor cabinet, where he poured three generous glasses of fire-whiskey and passed them to his husband and now-boss.

“As little as I wish to deal with such matters at a time like this, it is my duty. I’ve located Albus’ will, and he’s asked to be buried somewhere on the grounds of Hogwarts. He’s warned that Aberforth might fight to get him buried in Godric’s Hollow with their mother and sister, but because the will is magically binding to the beneficiary, Albus’ wishes must be met. There is another issue which directly affects you, Severus,” said Minerva, who had sipped almost half of her whiskey down by then.

“Albus has appointed you as Deputy Headmaster, since I now have the position of Headmistress. For the time being, I will continue to do both jobs because there is not enough time to train you in all of the duties. This summer we will remedy that.”

Severus downed the last of his whiskey and set his glass aside, noticing that Remus had only taken a small sip of the alcohol so far. He admired his husband’s strength of will. “Why me? Why not Filius or Pomona? They’ve been here longer and would probably know what to do.”

“Because it’s as he wishes, my boy. There is also a lot of things that have been left to you and Harry, but the Ministry has invoked their right to hold the will and examine the items left behind, so I cannot physically give you anything at this time,” Minerva said, her obvious distaste of the Ministry’s actions clearly displayed on her face.

“What was left to Harry? Merlin knows what that man might try to pull, even from the grave,” Severus said with an exasperated sigh. He turned to look down the hall towards his son’s bedroom. The door was closed, despite his rule against it whilst Draco was with him. He’d forgive his son this time.

“The Sword of Gryffindor, for one thing. Quite a few books and trunks full of various things. Albus’ box of memories was written in as well. The pensieve was left to you, however,” the Headmistress said, looking pointedly at the Potions Master.

“I’ve no idea what he was teaching the boy, Minerva. Harry’s been reluctant to part with any details, but I know it was important.”

Severus ignored the suspicious look Remus sent him, and shook his head a fraction of an inch to dissuade Remus from questioning him. He knew perfectly well what Dumbledore had been teaching Harry. His point in asking McGonagall was to see if she perhaps had been let in on the secret by the old man as well, and if she would admit to it if she knew.

“Your guess is as good mine, Severus. Perhaps with his passing, Harry will be more willing to share?” The Headmistress stood from her seat, setting her empty glass aside and nodding her thanks to the Potions Professor.

“It has been a long night, and we all need our rest. I will be making the announcement of Albus’ death to the rest of the school in the morning, so if you do not wish to be there, eat in your quarters. I suggest keeping Harry here so he can avoid the questions he’s sure to receive. As you know, we also offer grief counselling to the students, and though I doubt any of your Slytherins will be grief stricken, I will refer them to Poppy for their counselling instead of yourself, Severus.”

“Thank you, Minerva.”

S~S~S~S

The morning came much too early for Harry’s liking. Draco was curled up against his side, his blonde tresses scattered across his chest as the Slytherin slept peacefully. Harry had pretended to fall asleep the night before to appease Draco, laying awake for most of the night. Now that Dumbledore was gone, Harry was essentially on his own when it came to the Horcruxes. Though Harry knew the Headmaster’s life was quickly coming to an end, he was shocked by the man’s death. He wished the Headmaster had had just a little more time. Harry had so many questions, and the way he treated the elderly man the last time they’d spoken...Harry screwed his face up against the tears that threatened to spill. He couldn’t believe how horrible he’d been to Dumbledore.

Before his mind and their treacherous thoughts could take hold of him, there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. He called for the visitor to come in, and Draco woke with a big yawn and a stretch. He sat up and gave Harry a good morning kiss, despite their morning breath, just as the Potions Master entered Harry’s room.

“Draco, I’d like to speak with Harry for a moment in private, please.”

Draco frowned before nodding and giving Harry another kiss, brushing his messy locks aside with a look that Harry could only describe as complete understanding. Once Draco had left and shut the door behind him, Severus sat down beside his son with a heavy sigh.

“You look exhausted, Dad.”

“I could say the same for you. Did you sleep at all last night?” Severus asked, the concern evident in his deep voice. Harry had deep dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he had been moments from tears.

Harry shook his head and sat up, his back leaning against his headboard and his knees drawn up to his chest. “I couldn’t; there was no way. I can’t believe he’s gone...I was so horrible to him, Dad. I never got to apologize,” Harry choked out, finally letting the tears come. He was curled in on himself, but somehow in the next moment, he was in his father’s arms, crying into the shoulder of the man’s robes.

“The Headmaster would not hold it against you, Harry. I’m sure even without an apology, he knew things said in anger are most often not true.”

Harry just cried harder, and his father’s grip tightened as he held his son close. Harry was glad that the Potions Professor just let him cry, not trying to tell him that everything would be alright. Empty words were not a comfort to Harry, and somehow, Severus knew that.

Drying his eyes, Harry pulled away from the embrace, but stayed very close to his father, leaning against his side. He felt drained and numb. “I told him that he was no good to me, dead or alive. He was risking everything to help me find the Horcruxes, and I was an ungrateful little shit to him. I knew he didn’t have much time left, that I should apologize before it was too late, but my stupid pride stopped me, and now the curse finally took him.”

Severus tensed beside Harry, causing the boy to give him a curious look. Harry thought that the Headmaster had died of natural causes? If he thought telling Harry of how the Headmaster was found was going to be hard, it was nothing compared to how hard it was going to be to tell him that the Headmaster had been murdered.

“Harry, the Headmaster’s body was found at the Ministry of Magic. I do not know where he had been, but I do know that he did not die at the Ministry. He was moved there, post-mortem.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his breath hitching. His father was implying that Dumbledore had been...had been... “Dumbledore was murdered, wasn’t he?” Harry asked, his sense of detachment being replaced by pure, unadulterated anger.

“Yes, Harry. The Dark Lord killed Albus.”

Harry stood up and began to pace, his fists clenched at his sides. He so wanted to punch something, but he knew his father would stop him. Where had Dumbledore gone that night? Harry knew he was going to find another Horcrux, but Dumbledore had not only refused to take him along, but to tell him where he was going. He felt another great pang of regret as he realized that the Headmaster had died trying to help Harry.

“He was looking for a Horcrux. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going, and he refused to take me along, even though he had promised to take me before.”

“He did what? Harry, the Headmaster was quite right in not taking you along! Look at what happened! If you had been there, you’d be dead too,” Severus said, rising to his feet as his son glared at him.

“I’m tired of sitting back and watching everyone die while I do nothing! I want to fight him, Dad, but no one will let me! If I’m the only one that can kill him, then God damn it, let me do it!” Harry shouted, shaking in anger at not only Voldemort, but Dumbledore, his father, the Order – anyone who had ever stood in his way from fighting his own battle. He was done; it stopped there. No one else would die for him. Ever.

Severus walked forward and grabbed Harry’s shoulders, forcing the boy to look him straight in the eyes. There was a spark as Harry’s magic began to get out of control over his anger. “Listen to me very closely, Harry! When you stopped the stone during the warding, what did you do wrong?”

Harry tried to pull away, but at the tightening on his shoulders and the glare from his father, he gave up, his whole frame slumping in defeat. “I broke the wards and put all of my classmates in danger.”

“Yes, but there was more than that, and you still don’t see it! You risked your own life, Harry. You somehow fail to realize the value of your life, putting everyone else’s safety above your own. What did I tell you after I woke up in the infirmary? You cannot always play the hero, and no one should be more important to you than you. Going off to face the Dark Lord before all of the Horcruxes are destroyed is extremely foolish, and would only result in your death. Yes, you are the one who must defeat him, but you cannot do so until those pieces of his soul are destroyed, so there is no sense in risking yourself before that. I understand that you feel the need to fight, but you must do it by gathering your determination to find these objects and a way to destroy them. Then, Harry, and only then can you effectively go after the Dark Lord with any hopes of coming out the victor.”

Harry stood, stunned to the spot by his father’s vehement speech. He didn’t understand why his father didn’t see that going with the Headmaster was part of finding the Horcruxes. There was no way to find them without putting himself at considerable risk. Didn’t Snape realize that?

“He promised that the next time he located a Horcrux, he would take me along. I’m going to be at risk no matter what I do, Dad. As soon as he knows I’m going after the Horcruxes, he’ll hunt me more vigorously than he ever did before!”

“When will you finally listen and realize that you don’t have to do everything alone, Harry? The Headmaster was going to retrieve the Horcrux and most likely destroy it there, or bring it back so you could help. It is not your job alone to find them and destroy them. People will always be there to help!”

“No! No one else is going to risk themselves for me. It is my job to destroy him, and I’m not going to let anyone else die trying to help me. I’ve caused too much death already,” Harry seethed, finally pulling away from his father’s grip, only to turn and continue his earlier pacing.

Severus felt his chest tighten at his son’s words. The boy’s capacity for guilt, especially guilt that was not rightfully his, would never cease to amaze the Potions Master. He reached out and pulled his son to him, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed, while Severus kneeled in front of him, his hands planted on the teen’s knees so that he could not escape again.

“Harry...You have not caused a single death. You carry a burden that is not yours, and nothing I have done so far has been enough to convince you of that. The deaths that have happened around you are the fault of those who caused them. The Dark Lord killed your parents, Dumbledore and Cedric, Bellatrix killed Black, and various Death Eaters killed the Dursleys. Not one of them died from your hand. The people who have died for you knew what they were doing, understood the risks – even the Dursleys. I would die for you in less than a heartbeat, even if it was just so that you could live a day longer. You are not alone. Never alone, do you understand me?”

Harry gulped and blinked away the tears that threatened to come back at the thought of his father dying for him. He knew he wasn’t alone, but that did not change the fact that he couldn’t let anyone else die to save him. His life was no more valuable than the next person’s, and his father needed to understand that. For now though, he would appease his father, and go along with it.

“Yes, sir.”

Severus sighed in relief and stood up, sitting beside his son and drawing him into another tight hug. “I am sorry for being so harsh with you, but you must understand that you are more important to me than I could ever explain, and I love you. I only want to keep you safe.”

Harry sighed and hugged his father tighter, trying not to let the guilt of lying to his father get to him. “I know, Dad. I love you too.” That love was what allowed Harry to lie, to keep his father safe.

S~S~S~S

A funeral for the Headmaster was scheduled for that following weekend. Dumbledore’s death had been announced as headline news in the Daily Prophet and generally every other piece of wizarding news media. People around the world were shocked and saddened, and many planned to attend the funeral and memorial for the Headmaster.

The students of Hogwarts were very subdued, and the castle itself seemed to be in mourning. All of the enchanted windows in the castle showed horrific thunder storms, and the quality of food even went down as the house elves mourned their Master’s passing. The ghosts floated around with solemn expressions, pacing in front of the gargoyles that flanked the Headmaster’s – now Headmistress’s – office. Professor McGonagall had yet to move into the Head office, too upset to take over the man’s domain so soon.

Classes had been cancelled for a week in order for the students and staff alike to grieve and seek counselling, should they feel they had need of it. Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione spent most of the time in Snape’s dungeon quarters, helping Remus write the Headmaster’s eulogy and planning the DA’s tribute to the late Headmaster.

It had originally been Ron’s idea, the tribute. Every member of the DA had been contacted and instructed to prepare for a possible attack at the Headmaster’s funeral. There would be plenty of Ministry appointed security, not to mention the entire Order, but Harry had no doubt that some brave Death Eater would try to take advantage of the huge gathering of those from the Light.

Ron had jokingly suggested that the DA should all simultaneously cast their Patronus, directing the protectors to gather around Dumbledore’s tomb, just in case. Harry and Hermione had both immediately jumped at the idea, and a DA meeting was being held that night to inform all of the members and get some last minute practice in for all of those students who hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the charm yet. Draco, having never attended a meeting, had never successfully casted a corporeal Patronus, so Harry was going to take him along, induct him into the DA, and teach him the charm.

There were many more people than the previous year gathered in the Room of Requirement. Harry looked around, amazed at the number of people, and blanched when they all look to him for direction. He cast Hermione a pleading look and she took pity, taking the lead.

“All right, those of you who have successfully learned the Patronus charm and can cast it, partner up with someone who is having trouble with the charm or needs to learn it. Things will go much faster this way. If anyone is still having trouble, you can seek myself or Harry out, and we’ll help. Everyone got it? Good, then split up.”

Harry turned to Draco, who looked a bit nervous amongst the many Gryffindors in the room. Though they had been dating for some time, and most people accepted it, there were a fair few who thought that Draco was not to be trusted, and gave him scathing looks for even being in the room with the DA. Harry was sure to scowl at the offending members.

“Ok, Draco. The most important part of learning to cast your Patronus is the memory that you choose. In order to successfully cast a full corporeal Patronus, you have to focus on a very happy memory, preferably the happiest memory you have. A Patronus is the embodiment of pureness and is your protector. It will use the power from your happy memory, and project a familiar, the animal that represents your soul. Understand?” Harry explained, getting back into the hang of teaching quite quickly. He vaguely thought that teaching was going to be in his future as a career.

“Yes. I need to concentrate on a happy memory in order to cast. How will I know if it’s the right memory?” Draco asked, frowning as he searched his mind for what he would consider to be his happiest memory. Something involving Harry, he was sure, but what?

“You’ll know when you try to cast the charm. If it isn’t strong enough, either nothing will happen or you’ll only produce light vapour. The happier the memory, the clearer form your Patronus will take on. Once you successfully cast a corporeal Patronus, be sure to always use that memory, or one equally as happy, and your Patronus will be easy to call forth whenever you have need of it. Now think as hard as you can and decide on a memory. Once you find it, let that remembered feeling of happiness fill you up, and say Expecto Patronum, no wand for right now,” Harry instructed. He watched Draco close his eyes, a pronounced look of concentration on his pale features.

Happy...happy...Draco had many happy memories, almost all of them involving Harry, but what was his happiest? Their first kiss was a really happy one, or their first time – perhaps he was thinking of the wrong sort of happy. Happiness, joy, euphoria...Draco remembered sitting on his bed beside Harry, talking after days of Harry avoiding him after a fight they’d had, and what the conversation had unearthed.

“Yes, I do love you, and I’m sorry for avoiding you for the last couple of days.”

Draco had his memory as he felt his heart racing and a smile spread on his face. He opened his eyes slowly and stared into beautiful emerald. “Expecto Patronum.”

Harry smiled back at the blonde, a little curious as to what memory had inspired the delighted smile on his boyfriend’s face. He could ask later. Now it was time for Draco to try to cast the charm.

“Alright, now raise your wand and say the charm while doing a simple wrist-turn wand movement.”

Draco took a deep breath, raised his wand and made sure he was concentrating on his memory. He looked over at Harry once more, and felt the happiness within him surge as his boyfriend gave him an encouraging smile. With a swift turn of his wrist, Draco firmly called, “Expecto Patronum!”

A bright, mist-like light expelled forth from his wand, causing many people around Draco to pause and stare. After a few seconds, it was obvious he hadn’t been completely successful, as it did not form into a familiar, but dissipated. Draco frowned and shook his head.

“I don’t understand. That was definitely my happiest memory.”

“Not being able to cast on the first try is perfectly normal. That you produced that much light vapour on the first go shows that the memory you chose was indeed powerful. Very few people can cast a Patronus, with the exception of a lot of people in this room. Even fully trained adult witches and wizards cannot cast a corporeal Patronus. It takes not only skill, but a certain mindset. In the complicated theory of the spell, your Patronus is supposed to not only symbolize your soul, but who or what you think of as a safe-haven, or gives you protection. Are you sure the memory you chose is your utmost happiest?” Harry asked, smiling as Ginny cast her horse Patronus with her partner beside them. It galloped around Draco’s head for a minute before fading.

“Well, yeah, I think so,” Draco said with a shrug. He sighed when Harry gave him a look and rolled his eyes, knowing his boyfriend was extremely curious. “I chose the memory of the first time you told me you loved me.”

Harry’s grin grew into a wide smile, and he couldn’t help the blush that stained his cheeks. He was completely flattered and honoured that Draco would pick that particular memory as his happiest. “Well, I can’t really gauge the amount of happiness you feel from any memory, but I can tell you the memory I use now.”

“Yeah, alright. What do you use?”

“The first time Severus referred to me as his son. All I have ever wanted was to have a parent who cared for me and loved me, and while I know my birth parents did those things, I can’t remember that. The feeling of complete acceptance and belonging makes me happier than I’ve ever been before.”

Draco nodded, agreeing that the memory made sense. Maybe he should try a memory like Harry’s? Draco tried to think of happy memories involving his parents. Trips to the Chateau in France, that summer in Italy, Christmas in Sweden with his Maternal grandparents. Those were all happy times, but not happy enough. Thinking more recently, Draco felt a pang as he had to exclude his mother, and think only of his father. That’s when he knew he had his memory.

“I do love him, Father, more than I could ever try to explain. But I want you to know that I love you too, and I never wanted to have to give either of you up –” Draco was cut off as his father raised a hand to stall him.

“Your loyalty is not in question, Draco. I knew what I was getting into, and I prepared myself for your ire. I love you too, Son. I just hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into...” 

That feeling of complete acceptance, of contentment filled him with so much happiness. Knowing he would never have to give either of the people he loved the most up was, to date, his happiest memory.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The light that burst from Draco’s wand was much brighter, and after it disconnected from the tip, it swirled and began to take the shape of a beautiful, large peacock. It reminded Draco a lot of the albino peacocks that used to roam the Manor, and how his father used to show such tenderness when he walked the grounds with Draco and greeted the birds by name. The peacock Patronus strut importantly around Harry and Draco, then flared its great feathers, and disappeared.

“You did it! That was amazing, Draco! Only your second try!” Harry exclaimed, giving Draco a smacking kiss in celebration. The blonde was beaming from ear to ear, accepting congratulations from the few DA members around him.

“What were you thinking of?” Harry asked quietly as the people around them went back to their own practicing.

Draco smiled and gave Harry a grateful look. “I was thinking of when my father told me that he accepted our relationship, and that he still loved me.”

Harry pulled the Slytherin to him and kissed him for long seconds, causing a few of their fellow students to wolf whistle and giggle. He pulled away and brushed a hand against the blonde’s cheek, staring into his molten silver eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Aw! How sweet!” Parvati squealed as she walked by, Lavender following behind her. Harry just rolled his eyes while Draco blushed.

S~S~S~S

Harry had never seen so many witches and wizards gathered in one place. White chairs were lined up beside the Black lake as far as the eye could see, and various pointed, feathered, bejewelled, and ruffled hats bedecked most of the mourners. At the edge of the Dark forest stood the Centaurs, led by Bane, and breaking the surface of the Black lake were the Merpeople who lived there.

On one side of the crowd of seats sat all of the Hogwarts students and staff, the other half occupied by witches and wizards from all over the world. It seemed as though every witch and wizard in Europe had come to pay their respects to Albus Dumbledore.

Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione all sat in the row behind the Hogwarts staff, Severus and Remus just in front of them. Harry hadn’t even wanted to attend, but upon receiving a lengthy lecture on regret from Remus, he’d agreed to go. Draco was never more than a foot away, holding his hand, wrapping him in his arms, or rubbing his shoulders. Harry was extremely glad for the support.

Hermione had been wiping at her tearing eyes all day, and Ron was using the opportunity to comfort her as much as he could. It seemed their feud had finally ended, and the relationship was back on. Harry was happy for them, despite his lingering sense of betrayal due to Ron’s abandonment. It would take much longer than a few months for him to forgive the redhead completely.

Harry instinctively tuned him out as Fudge stood at the podium just to the side of the pure white marble tomb and began his speech. He had no interest whatsoever in what the former Minister had to say about Dumbledore. The man was a tool and had only made life more difficult for the late Headmaster by refusing to work with the Order. A lot of Harry’s own regrets could have been avoided if Fudge had just listened to Harry and Dumbledore about Voldemort’s return, Sirius would probably still be alive, and Voldemort wouldn’t be as brave and bold as he’d been lately. Harry had no idea why the man was even speaking at Dumbledore’s funeral, but he ignored it anyways.

An elbow in his ribs brought Harry out of his musings, and he glared at Draco, who was pointing towards the podium. Harry was shocked when he looked over and saw his father standing there, waiting for the whispering to die down before he began. He had no idea his father had been planning to speak at the service, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if his dad hadn’t told him on purpose.

“Albus Dumbledore was my boss, my mentor, my saviour, and the father I never had. He took me in when I most needed it, and he gave me the second chance that I did not believe I deserved. While the man made many mistakes, he was only human, and though we expected so much more from him, he had his faults. He was powerful not only in magical ability, but in presence alone, and just the mention of his name is enough to cause a stir.

“Albus died while trying to help protect my son. He gave his life so that everyone else in the Wizarding world may have a chance to live without the fear of Voldemort constantly hanging over them. Albus has done more for our world than any one of you could truly understand, and his death is a great loss to us all. Remember that, when the assuredly false rumours about the late Headmaster begin to surface.”

There was a respectful silence as Severus made his way back to his seat, accepting a kiss from Remus. A few more people stood to speak, but again, Harry tuned them out. What they said wasn’t important to him. The fact of the matter was that Dumbledore was dead, and Harry would never have his help, his guidance, or his gentle smile focused on him again. He leaned heavily against Draco as the moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes, but he managed to stay in control of himself.

The funeral seemed to end as soon as it began, Harry only realising it was over by the crowd of people rising to leave. He sighed in relief, glad that Voldemort hadn’t decided to take advantage of the gathering of important people and attack. As Harry and Draco met up with Severus, Remus, Ron and Hermione, Harry knew he had thought too soon.

A bitter cold feeling swept through the crowd, making everyone shudder in unison. Harry whirled around, his mouth gaping as screams rang out all around him. The mourners were running towards the gates of Hogwarts, trying to get passed the wards so that they could apparate, but the Dementors were moving too fast. Even as the first few people were attacked, shouts from various spots in the crowd rang out.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A magical menagerie of wispy, silver animals shot out towards the cluster of Dementors. A few of them shrieked and streaked off, away from the castle, but the majority only stumbled, then continued to pursue the mourners. Harry turned to see all the members of the DA, and even a few students who had never attended a meeting, gather into a large group. They shot off another wall of Patroni, sending a few more of the Dementors shrieking away.

“Harry, Draco; get inside the castle and don’t come back out until the coast is clear!” Severus shouted over the screams and panicked hustling of the crowd.

“No, we need to help!” Harry insisted, casting his Patronus and directing it to run down a Dementor, who had hold of the lapels of a man’s suite and was mere inches from Kissing him.

Harry’s next casting went astray as he was jerked around to face his father, a frightening scowl on his face. “Inside, now! Do not argue with me, Harry James Potter.”

Harry made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and only struggled half-heartedly as Draco began to pull him towards the castle. He turned and cast his Patronus one more time to fend off a Dementor swooping in on Seamus, Neville and Dean. Harry let Draco pull him just barely inside the huge doors of the castle, shaking his hand off as he attempted to drag him further into the Entrance Hall.

“Dad said to get inside, and I am, so stop!”

Draco stomped his foot in frustration and glared. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Harry! What has Severus been telling you about self-sacrifice and being the hero? The Order and half the Ministry are out there, not to mention the DA. They can handle it!”

“How can you just stand idly by without wanting to help? I can’t do it, Draco! It has nothing to do with playing the hero, it has to do with making sure the people I love stay safe! Why doesn’t anyone fucking understand that?”

Before Draco could respond, there was commotion a few feet away at the bottom of the stone steps, and both teens turned to investigate. Harry felt his heart slam into his throat as he watched his father carry Remus up the steps, his head lolling to the side and his face more pale than Harry had ever seen it before.

“Moony! Dad, what happened?”

Severus didn’t pause to explain, but continued up the spiral staircase to the infirmary, knowing that his son and godson would follow along. Once there, he laid Remus in the closest bed and swept the grey and tawny locks out of his eyes. Only a few minutes after Harry and Draco ran in, Poppy burst through the doors and made a bee-line for Remus.

“Are his vitals still low?”

“Yes, and his breathing is still extremely shallow. His pulse is still ebbing, I can’t bring it up,” Severus choked, fighting the emotions that threatened to take him over. He needed to stay strong for Remus, but it was proving extremely difficult as he checked the werewolf’s pulse and found that it had slowed even more. He didn’t realize how badly he was shaking nor the pitiful noises that were escaping from his throat before Poppy pushed a calming draught into his hands, shooing him to the side.

“Dad...what happened?” Harry asked again, coming up beside the Potions Master and grasping his arm gently as he stared at Remus, Madam Pomfrey bustling around with different potions and casting various spells to check their affects. It frightened Harry to see his father so emotionally distraught. The man was known for being stoic in the face of even the most horrible torture, but seeing his husband near death was enough to shake his stony façade.

“A Dementor caught him and had already clamped its jaws on him before I could get there. He was being Kissed...I used an extremely dark and illegal spell to destroy the Dementor, but I don’t know if he...if it took his...”

Harry shushed his father and wrapped his arms tightly around the man, feeling his own heart ache. He didn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He knew empty words of comfort never helped him feel better. When he father hugged him tight and clung on like his life depended on it, Harry knew he didn’t need to do anything else.