“Harry! What are you doing here? I thought you had detention with Umbridge this morning!”

“I do, but if you think I’m going to miss the last Hogsmeade before winter holidays just so that toad can make me carve lines in my own hand you’re crazy!” Harry’s head spoke. The rest of his body was hidden beneath the invisibility cloak that he had used to sneak out of the castle in order to dodge his detention with the toad faced woman who the Ministry had appointed as this year’s DADA teacher. Umbridge was an older woman who liked to wear a lot of pink and pretend she was much younger than she was… and that all of the students at Hogwarts were as willfully ignorant as she herself.  

“Good on you mate,” Ron announced, clapping Harry on the back.

“No Ron, it’s not good. This is not good at all. Gryffindor is going to lose so many points we’re going to be in the negative, never mind losing the cup. And Harry is already in enough trouble because of the Daily Prophet as it is. He really doesn’t need to be antagonizing the rest of our Housemates any more than necessary.”

“I’m not worried about that right now. Besides if anyone tries to complain about my not showing up, I’ll just explain that I don’t much care for being mutilated. The lines have scarred into my hand Hermione. I’m not going to sit another detention with her ever again. I refuse. And if they want to take House points for that, well then, I’ll just have to cope with the disapproval I’ve had all year. It’s not like its any worse than it was in second year, or in fourth year. I’ve actually kind of gotten used to it at this point.”

“That’s not the point!” Hermione snapped.

Harry pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, his hand momentarily appearing out of thin air before disappearing once more. “I thought you wanted me to meet with some of the other kids around here to talk about forming a secret defense lessons group?”

“Yes I did, but I figured that was cancelled when Umbridge gave you detention. No one knows to meet up at the Hogshead to discuss the details.”

“Look there’s no point in worrying about it now. Harry’s already late for his detention. She’s going to be nasty to him no matter what happens now. So he can go back and be punished for being late, or he can stay here and be punished for being late. The hag is going to punish him no matter what, he might as well have some fun to make up for it,” Ron pointed out reasonably.

“Oh Harry you are going to be in so much trouble. You think she’s nasty at her regular made up detentions, just think how much worse she’s going to be at a justified one,” Hermione moaned. Hermione’s pressed her hands against her mouth, and she stared at him with troubled eyes. Obviously her worry about Harry was outweighing her disapproval of rule breaking.

Ron rolled his shoulder at Harry’s look. Obviously Harry was silently asking for a little backup against their more straight laced friend, but the red head didn’t have any more of an argument than the one he had already offered, but as far as he was concerned that made more sense than worrying about it when there was nothing to be done. Hermione had a lot of good qualities but one of her more frustrating ones was her need to appease the authority figures in her life, and there were times when she still fell into the ‘teachers can do no wrong’ mentality that she had cultivated as a child. What bothered Harry was that she did this despite repeated proof that several teachers, the DADA ones in particular, were proven to have been completely wrong.

Some were so far beyond wrong that they were downright evil. Umbridge had swiftly fallen into the latter category, although her brand of evil was more difficult to comprehend because it wasn’t the more straightforward ‘Harry must die so that I can take over the world’ variety that Voldemort and his followers adhered to. Nor was it the ‘maybe he’ll stop being a freak if we beat him enough’ variety employed by the Dursleys. In fact Harry wasn’t at all sure what to categorize her as beyond sadistic.

“Come on, let’s go. We can worry about the Toad later. Let’s have some fun now, and Harry can sort things out once we get back to the castle. I want to go to Honeydukes and stock up before Christmas. There’ll be candy around the house, but with the twins you can’t trust that they haven’t been tampered with.”

“You don’t like their Christmas canes?” Hermione smirked at him.

“Only being able to sing Christmas carols whenever you try to open your mouth to say something is not my idea of a good time. I had to write down anything I wanted to say to keep from singing. Sometimes I forgot, and then I had to beg my family to put me out my misery. After two weeks of that, I think they were tempted. So Zonkos is definitely on the list.”

“Right, I’ll be with you guys,” Harry grinned unrepentantly at Hermione.

“Oh Harry,” she sighed.

The girl rolled her eyes at Harry’s unwillingness to listen to reason, but she gave in without another word except to admonish him to make sure to step into Ron’s tracks so that no one see him walking in the snow.

The three friends made their way along, chatting quietly in a familiar pattern that would allow the three of them to carry on conversation as though it was just Ron and Hermione. Every once in a while one of Harry’s friends would mischievously lament the fact that Harry had to spend his Saturday morning with the evil Umbridge. Harry would stifle his snickers and choked laughs as best he could so that he wouldn’t be caught out by any of the other students in the crowd. And every once in a while one of the visible friends would have to cover for the jump they made when they were poked in the back, or tickled by invisible fingers.

When the trio went to the Three Broomsticks Ron went to the counter and got three butter beers and Harry sat beneath the table leaning companionably against Hermione’s legs and lightly arguing Quidditch with Ron. Honestly between Snape and Umbridge, Harry was in detention so much that this was the most relaxing day he’d had almost the entire year. In fact, considering that the days he wasn’t in detention he had to contend with the cool distrust of his house mates, this was the most relaxing day of his year so far. Right that second though, he was content to bask in the simple companionship of his friends away from the stresses of class and infighting with an entire student body. He could almost pretend that this was a normal Hogsmeade weekend… well as best anyone could pretend such a thing when they were curled up underneath a table.

The pleasant glow of his relaxed weekend was abruptly cut short when a loud shriek went up from the street outside the Three Broomsticks. His friends jumped up before the scream ended, and Harry was already scrambling out from his hidden spot. Another scream followed the first, and then another and another. Soon the entire village seemed to be filled with panicked cries. Only a single word could be made out above the noise.

Death Eaters.

The patrons in the Three Broomsticks began to dive beneath their tables. Several ran for the stairs. One guy jumped over the bar to hide behind it with Madam Rosmerta, not caring that he knocked over several glass bottles in the process. Come to that, the owners of the drinks didn’t seem to mind either as they soon joined the terrified man. There was something peculiar, Harry reflected, about the paranoia that gripped the entire human psyche at the thought of a perceived threat. Almost the second white masks appeared most of the adult wizards around turned into gibbering idiots.

“Let’s go, we’ve got to go help the other students.”

“We aren’t strong enough to take on fully trained Death Eaters,” Hermione protested, nerves mixed with her need to be reasonable in her features.

“But we can’t leave the other students alone, and the adults around here aren’t going to be any help.”

Hermione stilled at Harry’s logic and she gave a nod. Her body held all of the tension of a thoroughbred horse before a race, wide eyed nerves coupled with a sleek power waiting to be unleashed whatever the decision was. “So what should we do?”

“If we can make it to Honeydukes we can sneak back to Hogwarts and warn one of the teachers,” surprisingly, Ron was the voice of reason here. The expression on his face said that he was ready to do whatever needed to be done as well. His tall body was coiled, and his knees bent into a stance that put him on the balls of his feet, like a young lion waiting to pounce. His wand was in hand and trained on the door in case Death Eaters entered while they deliberated. Harry regarded his friends trying to assess the strengths and weakness of his both, and those of himself. Harry’s mind felt like it went a million directions at once as he considered the alternatives and the safety of the other people in Hogsmeade.

“Ok, ok. Ron, you’re the fastest runner. You sneak into Honeydukes and go get some teachers. I know Umbridge had the floo system closed on Ministry orders so have them open up the floo as soon as you get there. Hermione and I will cover you and then try to get as many students as possible in here. The minute the floo to the school gets opened we’ll start sending them through.”

“Harry you have the cloak. You can’t go out there and get seen by Death Eaters! You should go to Hogwarts to get the teachers,” Hermione hissed.

“No. My shields are stronger, and that’ll be necessary to protect the students out there. I’ll keep my cloak on. Don’t argue! Just go! Ron we’re covering you, so hurry!” Harry was already moving to the door.

Ron hesitated only briefly but he was slipping around the tables toward the door as well. He nearly collided with Harry, but the dark haired boy had been watching his approach and stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bowled over. Ron was running the second he stepped out the door. Harry dodged through the swinging doors behind him and pressed his back against the wall by the door. Hermione took up a post half hidden by the swinging doors, keeping a clear line of sight on Ron so she could be sure to see any spells aimed at him. This left her blind to her left but she was shielded by the wood, and Harry’s position allowed him to keep an eye on any threats approaching from that direction.

“Over here! Quick, get inside!” Hermione called to a couple of panicking Ravenclaw girls. It turned out there was a young Gryffindor huddled between them who resembled one of the girls, and had to be a younger brother. They caught sight of Hermione and started to run toward the Three Broomsticks, hands covering their heads. The trio safely made it inside, Hermione holding the door open wider so they could get in before she took up her post again. They ignored the sobbing, and fearful prayers that echoed around the room behind them.

Harry began to flick spells at the Death Eaters from where he stood. One Death Eater cast a spell at a small kid who was obviously separated from her parents, a red stream of light. Harry couldn’t hear what the spell was but he cast a quick protego to shield the crying child. Abuse of a summoning incantation later brought the child into his arms and he quickly shoved the kid through the door with a sharp order to hide. He heard Hermione cast throw a stunner at a Death Eater who was aiming his wand at Ron, and Harry spared a glance to be sure that was the only Death Eater who had noticed the red haired boy sprinting through the street. Ron ducked into Zonkos disregarded by everyone else in the fleeing crowd.

Harry turned his attention to the masked wizards. Something was wrong. They were using magic, but… strangely there were less spells than one would have expected to see in a magical battle. There were few flashes of light. Harry cast several more spells at the Death Eaters, and shielding spells as needed, but students kept dropping right and left. Somehow the Death Eaters had a way to bypass the magical shields Harry was throwing into the crowd. As Harry watched a Death Eater, apparently a woman flung a liquid into the face of a third year Hufflepuff, Derek something or other. He sank to the ground like a stone, wand falling from unmoving fingers.

Harry glanced over at Hermione to warn her about what he had just realized. He turned his head in time to see a Death Eater approaching from behind the door directly in Hermione’s blind spot. He raised his wand and cast without thinking.

“Expilliarmus!” the Death Eater’s wand went flying out of his hand and Hermione was alerted in time step forward to twist around the door to aim on the Death Eater. Unfortunately she wasn’t going to be able to bring her wand to bear in time to shield herself from the spray of what he now recognized as a potion.

In slow motion the liquid, green as the killing curse, arched through the air toward his best friend. He didn’t even feel himself moving, hadn’t realized he had moved until he felt fluid dripping down his chest. His robe was beginning to plaster to the front of his chest, but that really didn’t matter. What mattered was the way the world was whirling around his head, the way the door slammed into his back. He felt himself sinking toward the ground. He heard Hermione crying out a curse above his head, and in the distance there were several sudden pops.

‘Oh, good,’ Harry thought muzzily. ‘The teachers.’

Hands shook his shoulders. Hermione always worried so much about him. He wanted to tell her not to worry about him, it made him feel bad when she worried so much, but he was so tired and the ground was so…  

###

“What on earth was that foolish boy doing with you in Hogsmeade? He should have stayed in the castle! He should have been serving his detention!”

Severus Snape loomed over the two Gryffindors who had helped hold off the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. There were over a hundred adults in the village at any given time, and a couple of fifth years were the only ones using their brains, not to mention their wands, against the Dark Lord’s followers. Of course Potter would be in Hogsmeade, against the rules, on the one Hogsmeade weekend that the Death Eaters had decided to invade the village. Of course he would jump right into the fray without a thought for his own safety no matter how much effort was put into keeping him safe. ‘Stupid, reckless, Gryffindor children!’ he seethed to himself.

Ronald Weasley paled, and what an unfortunate look it was on the brat with the way it made all of his freckles stand out in sharp relief, and dropped his eyes. If Harry had been where he was supposed to be, then a number of the other students would have died today. If Harry had stayed he’d end up getting all cut up by that stupid cow’s quill. He certainly wasn’t going to apologize for getting Harry away from her. He balled his fists and he clenched his teeth. Black eyes narrowed at the boy’s belligerent silence.

Snape decided to leave the youngest Weasley boy for the moment, the little witch was much more likely to respond to authority. Hermione Granger cringed beneath the wrathful visage of their Potion’s Professor, the second his dark gaze pinned her. She too dropped her eyes, but hers was a more submissive gesture. Hermione had known it was a bad idea. She should have known that not insisting that Harry go back to school would end in trouble. As a prefect it had been their responsibility to enforce the rules and now Harry was…

She gave a small sniffle, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to start again. The Death Eaters had been quickly fled or been captured as soon as the teachers got there but Hermione’s attention had been solely on Harry. Harry had fallen and he wouldn’t respond when she tried to shake him and call out to him. She wasn’t sure when her tears had started, terrified weeping and crying for help that had brought the teachers running. The girl was quite positive she had never cried so hard in her life as she had the second she had realized that Harry had stopped breathing.

“Now, now Severus, stop frightening the children. If the two of you could please explain what happened out there today we can perhaps figure out what to do about the situation.”

With an irritated huff Severus stalked away in a swirl of angry black robes to lean against the far wall behind the Headmaster’s desk.

“Please sir,” Hermione entreated the Headmaster Dumbledore. “What happened to Harry?”

Dumbledore was an older wizard with white hair and a flowing white beard to match. Pale blue eyes were hidden behind half moon spectacles, but his eyes lacked the twinkle that was typically present.

“I am afraid, Miss Granger, that young Harry is currently in a coma. Thanks to Severus’s quick thinking and the spells he chose, Harry began to breathe again, but I’m afraid he remains alive only because Severus wrapped him in a stasis spell. He will have to remain there until we figure out what is wrong with him. Pomfrey and some staff from St. Mungos are looking to all of the students who have been injured today. Now, the explanation if you please? It is quite imperative.”  

Ron and Hermione shared a look.

“Harry had detention with Umbridge this morning, but he skipped out on it,” Ron began.

“And of course the golden boy believes that he can get away with such behavior. I told you that arrogant little brat is given far too much leeway,” Severus cut in to sneer. It didn’t faze him at all the bristling looks he got from the children. In fact he was severely unimpressed even with the quelling look from the Headmaster.

“Severus, please,” Albus reprimanded the Potion Master before turning back to the children. “Go on.” 

“We talked to him about going back to the castle,” Hermione picked up the tale, “but he was already late and if he was going to be punished for being late, then he might as well not go at all.”

Ron cut in this time, “And we certainly weren’t going to encourage him to show up for any of the Toad’s awful detentions. He’d rather serve detention with Snape!”

The two adults shared a startled look at the mention of Umbridge’s ‘awful’ detentions before turning their attention back to the two teens.

“-fessor Snape, and do you even realize how insulting you made that sound?” Hermione fixed Ron with a disgusted look.

“‘Struth Harry said it himself didn’t he?”

What was going on in those detentions that would drive Harry to be willing to spend more time with Severus than be in the same room with the Ministry puppet? Considering the changes she was instigating, and the well known animosity between the Harry and Severus, this was an alarming thought indeed. Severus made a slight choking noise, and muttered something that sounded like, “And who would want his company that often?” Or he could have been talking about sizing him for a coffin; it was hard to tell from where they sat in the chairs in front of Dumbledore’s large desk.

With a sigh, Hermione continued. “We were in the Three Broomsticks when people started screaming about Death Eaters. So Harry told Ron to come get some teachers, and try to have the floo network opened. We covered Ron, and tried to get whoever we could into the Three Broomsticks. Then this Death Eater was trying to sneak up on me. Harry disarmed him, but he had some sort of potion that he tossed at me. Harry jumped in front of me, and that’s when he collapsed. It was like he was paralyzed by it. He seemed aware until about the time the teacher’s started showing up, but then he wouldn’t wake up, and then he… he…”

“He stopped breathing until I cast the spells that saved him. It sounds like a neurotoxin… A liquid you said?” Severus straightened up from where he was leaning. Without another word the Potion Master swept from the office, glancing at none of the other occupants as he passed.

“Does that mean he has an idea about what’s wrong with Harry?” Ron asked, staring at the closed door. Hermione brightened hopefully at the suggestion.

“A liquid. If it’s a potion then who better than a Potion Master to figure out what it was?” Hermione breathed, the implications settling in.

“What? He’s gonna be the one to save Harry?”

“Ron, Professor Snape is the best Potion Master in all of England and ranked in the top five in the entire Wizarding World. If anyone can figure out what Harry was hit by it’ll be him,” Hermione insisted.

“I don’t care what ranking he is, if he can save Harry then I promise to never call him an evil overgrown bat ever again,” Ron vowed fervently.

The aged wizard chuckled at them both. The two teens blushed as they remembered the presence of the Headmaster. He held out the bowl that had been sitting on the corner of his desk.

"Lemon sherbert?"

###

“Poppy! I need the shirt Potter was wearing when he was attacked, do you have it still? Oh and a sample of his blood!” Severus ordered, doors to the infirmary banging open behind him. “In fact get me as many samples as you can from as many of the victims as possible!”

“Severus, what is the meaning of this? This is a sick room not a Quidditch match, there's no need to go slamming things around. And I’ll thank you not to disturb the Healers who are busy!” Madam Poppy Pomfrey ordered right back at him.

“Don’t argue with me. Move! I’ll get it myself. Potter’s little friends said they saw the Death Eaters flinging a potion on the victims. Quickly, woman, I need samples so I can study it. Or do you want to leave your patients in comas forever?” the dark man snarled.

To her credit Poppy only hesitated for a second as her brain processed the information. A heartbeat later she was ordering samples from all of the patients. Soon Healers were bustling about each having heard Severus’s explanation. Severus himself joined in the retrieval process, his own medical experience coming in handy. It was a necessary part of training for potion mastery, and he also served as Pomfrey’s replacement when she became ill or was indisposed. Although in the fourteen years he had worked at Hogwarts that had only happened three times.

He cast a quick sanitation spell on his hands, his wand, and a glass vial. Fortunately it was a simple spell and could be performed wandlessly. Then a stasis spell around his hands. Shoved through the stasis spell already in place, it would merge with the spell that already existed without disrupting it and risking the failing of the initial spell or endangering the patient. It would be like his own hands were wrapped in gloves that were connected to the stasis spell so that no energy or foreign matter would introduced into he haven created by the bubble he was being held in.

Working quickly he made a small incision on the inside of Harry’s left arm, capturing the blood that escaped in the glass vial. He corked the vial, and held it in his free hand. An incantation sealed the small cut. A couple flicks of his wand and the front of Harry’s shirt was held between the pinky and ring finger of the hand holding the vial. As soon as Severus removed his hands from Harry’s bubble he cast yet another stasis spell around the shirt, knowing that more exposure to the air could further contaminate his samples.  A cart was soon compiled by the Madam Pomfrey and the Healers, and the Potion Master was quickly wheeling his cart down to the dungeons.

Typical Potter, rushing in without thinking, and when he bothered to think at all, it was to think he was above such petty things as rules. Severus’s lips drew into a sharp forbidding scowl that set even the Slytherins he passed on edge, and he barely even noticed the children fleeing and jumping out of his way as he stormed his way to his lab. Severus would heal the blasted boy if it was the last thing he did. The alternative was… His hands clenched around the cart handle until his knuckles were white.