A somber silence fell upon the Great Hall despite the numerous occupants that sat at the four tables. The most solemn presence of all radiated from the head table where the headmaster of Hogwarts stood before the students, a weary sigh escaping him.

As Dumbledore sat back in his seat, a sob managed to break the stillness of the air and the old man’s tired eyes fell upon the crying Hermione Granger who was being held by Ronald Weasley. The two fifth years were hit the hardest with the news despite being warned a week ago of the possibility…the possibility that was now reality. He couldn’t blame them as it seemed the Boy-Who-Lived could always manage his way out of anything. Before.

The food appeared on the tables and the clinking of silver and dishware slowly made itself known. Hogwarts was usually bustling with excitement at this time of the year but all the cheer and relief had been taken away with the lost hope that had been carried by the daring Gryffindor. The Dark Lord Voldemort was back, no one could deny it any longer. Not after the incident at the Department of Mysteries which had resulted in…this. Everyone was filled with a heavy heart of worry and bleakness.

The students filed out of the Great Hall when breakfast was over to return to their dormitories. After packing last minute clothes and possessions they would be sent on their way home on the Hogwarts Express. Spending time with family for the next two months would heal them as the headmaster hoped.

Hogwarts would be closed for the summer to its grieving students.

All except for the lone Gryffindor on everyone’s thoughts.

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomphrey was organizing the ward which would not be expecting any new visitors during the summer months. She hummed softly as she sat in her office sorting through the most recent injuries from the last few weeks of school. Her eyes drifted towards the open door of the office where a curtained bed stood separating its occupant from the rest of the world.

“Poppy?”

The matron looked up to see the headmaster at the doorway with the resident Potions Master of Hogwarts lingering behind him.

“Would you like to see Mr. Potter, headmaster?”

The old man nodded silently, his eyes glistening behind his half moon specs. Without a word the three walked over to the only occupied bed.

“Severus, are we absolutely sure there is not an antidote?” Madam Pomphrey asked after a few minutes of the intense silence.

Severus Snape did not look at her but watched as Dumbledore stretched out a wrinkled hand and pulled the curtain aside to create an opening for them to see the boy. He was shocked to see that the fifteen year old face was not one of death but of a calm slumber. Even though he still had life in him…the boy could hardly be called ‘alive’.

“I am sure. The dark spell is an original of the Dark Lord’s…only he knows how it was created and only he knows how to undo it.” the man replied. “It could take countless days, months, maybe years and immense funding on researching a hint of a cure alone.”

“The odds of him waking up without any aid of some reviving antidote, headmaster—“ began Pomphrey sadly.

Dumbledore couldn’t take his eyes of the still face. “Yes, I realize we have little use in hoping but I can not help from doing so…as I know many others won’t stop hoping either.”

The old man brushed some of the jet black hair away from the boy’s forehead where his scar usually hid behind the fringe. The skin around the scar was red while the skin haloing that was darker as though a bruise had formed around it. The mark reminded the three that the effects of the dark spell was still coursing through the teenager’s system, his magical core to be exact, and slowly consuming it.

“The bruising has become larger.” The Potions Master noted. Slowly, the man rolled up the sleeve of his robe to reveal the dark mark that was imprinted starkly against his pale skin. “The dark ring around the Dark Lord’s mark on his followers seems to be of the same hue.” Snape said grimly.

“What could that mean for the boy?” the woman asked as she looked worriedly between the two men.

“This could be a problem for us.” Dumbledore turned to Snape and met his eyes evenly. “Severus, answer me truthfully. Is it possible that if the boy woke up…he could have turned…”

“…dark?” Snape finished for him.

The man looked so old and tired as he waited for Snape’s eventual nod. “The dark spell’s true purpose was to transfer a poisonous energy into Potter through his scar. Such energy was created out of dark magic from within the Dark Lord. It would ebb away at the magic inside the boy from the core out. Finally it would finish with Potter’s magic and then immediately proceed to take away his life. His body will be extremely weak to fight it off.”

Snape rubbed at his temple in frustration. Potter always did this to him.

“So it is possible that instead of eating away at his core it could fuse with it and cause the Dark Lord’s purpose, intentions and mind set to be instilled inside him. In theory.”

“Could he know about such an effect?”

“…yes, he might. The dark spell acts too similar to the Dark Mark. The mark is triggered by the dark magic that he joins to one’s core. When he calls, we are deeply…’affected’ by it.” The pain that took Snape’s years to hide was immense. When he was summoned by the mark the first time, he thought he would pass out. He had been seventeen at the time.

“But this dark spell…it is a million times worse.” Dumbledore murmured.

“Indeed.” No, Snape would definitely not want to be the Golden Boy at the moment. “…would making the restoration elixir still be needed, headmaster?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“The chances of it working are very slim. Too slim even if it is made more potently.” Snape informed him.

“We need to be sure, Severus. If the chances of waking the boy are still available then we must.”

“And if the dark spell has fused?”

“We must make sure of that as well. We will only know if he is awake.” Snape could see it in the old man’s eyes where without their twinkling could not hide the storm of emotions. Dumbledore was afraid of that moment when he would peer into the boy’s mind and find it completely tainted with hate and darkness. …then the supposed savior of the wizard world would be lost to all. “Extreme precautions must be made. An Order member will have to be posted here when Poppy leaves. How long will the brewing take, my boy?”

“Three for a brew of regular potency. Give me four to create one that will be altered for Potter.”

Madam Pomphrey brushed away a tear as she took her eyes off of the unconscious boy. “If it does not work, headmaster, and he does not wake up…he’ll go to St. Mungo’s?”

“Yes, I fear that this elixir is our only hope.”

The matron soaked the prospect in with teary eyes. “I shall return to the files, Albus, Severus. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are expected to stop by in a moment…”

“I should get started on it right away then, headmaster.” said Snape as Madam Pomphrey returned to her office. Dumbledore nodded towards the Head of Slytherin and clasped a warm hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Severus, promise me something.”

Snape didn’t like the deep look of concern he was being given.

“If the elixir does not work…no, look at me, my boy. If it does not work, you must not blame yourself. If anyone is to be blamed, it is me.”

Snape stepped backwards away form the headmaster shaking his head with hard eyes. “It was my job, Albus. My goal…to…to keep him safe. Look at him! Potter’s as good as…as…”

“But he’s not Severus, he is not dead. We must keep trying.” Dumbledore insisted softly. “The way is never shut completely. We have a chance—”

“A pathetically microscopic one, at that,” the younger man snorted. “If only that brat hadn’t decided on an escapade to the Ministry—of all the hair brained ideas—all of this could have been avoided!“ Snape glared daggers at the motionless figure.

“It was my fault, Severus. I shouldn’t have pushed him away…I have so much to be blamed for…”

“In any case, it’s just as well that he’s out of it. Dark core or not…he’s not going to be pleasant when he comes to and realizes the mutt’s fate.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and spoke in a pained voice. “Depression…anger…vengeance…if this curse does not turn him dark…we shall have to witness its course in time. How can he trust me aft all that I’ve allowed to happen?”

“Headmaster, that is exactly his problem! He doesn’t trust anyone completely so the dunderhead gets the crazy notion that everything is up to him. Look at where it’s got us!” ‘Damn, Potter for getting me wound up like this.’ Snape cursed mentally at the boy. “I will get to that brewing then, Albus.”

“Severus, wait. Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t make our mistakes twice. Harry deserves to know everything. That was my biggest blunder…he was left out so he felt that he couldn’t trust us when we couldn't put our trust in him.”

“You would have him know everything?” Snape asked in a fervent whisper. “The horocruxes, the Elder Wand—“ His eyes darted to one of Dumbledore’s colorful pockets. “—the other Deathly Hallows, Lil—ev…everything? “

Dumbledore held Snape’s stern gaze until the man looked away, the feelings under his controlled exterior clawing at him like a cornered beast.

“Severus, if he hadn’t been hit by that dark curse…and needed the medical care after his collapse…I was going to tell him the prophecy.”

Snape did not even attempt to hide his confusion. “That would have been most unwise, headmaster.” he said evenly after composing his features. “Potter is just a child not mature enough, mentally or emotionally ready and not—“

“Still, Severus, still? After long last I had hoped one day…he would know the truth. Everything. He will not be ready to take such information in when he is grieving for his godfather, now I see that (Thanks to you, Severus.) but he must be informed soon. The darkness grows every stronger and draws near, my boy.”

The coal black eyes darted to the helpless bedridden figure. “Maybe closer than we think.”

Dumbledore’s face grimaced and he frowned deeply. “I hope…I pray that it will never come to that, Severus. Harry’s magic is great, more than Voldemort—“ Snape cringed at the name. “—may even know. Even unconscious, the boy would never allow himself to be consumed by such…darkness…”

“You’re praying for another one of Potter’s miracles to happen again? What if his luck’s run out?” Snape sneered but a bitter taste lingered in his mouth.

“We must have hope, Severus.”

“Hmmph.”

“I apologize for keeping you…you may start your brewing. Or get some sleep, Severus, you look like you need a little shut eye, my boy!”

“Albus, I am fine.”

“Well, I believe Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would like to come in now. Madam Pomphrey, your two visitors are here, I believe.”

The Potions Master turned swiftly for the dungeons although the sad smile and hopeful eyes of the headmaster pestered his thoughts. The two Gryffindors were let in by the matron who told them over for the fifth time that they would be given half an hour or they’d be late for the train. The headmaster smoothed the boy’s hair one last time offering a smile to the forlorn friends and departed the hospital wing as well.

It was going to be a long four weeks.