Harry turned in the corridor at the sound of his name. It was Jo.

"Hi," he said.

"How are you doing?" she asked, and Harry wondered at the tone of her voice. It was almost like she was on eggshells, or like he was very ill and she was trying to be sympathetic to his plight.

"Er- fine. Bit late for Quidditch but good." He looked down at his watch. It would take him another ten minutes to get down to the Pitch, and practice started in three minutes.

"Classes have been good?"

"Yeah." He didn't want to be rude, especially since she'd only just gotten to the castle the night before, but he really had to go.

"Harry, I wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if you need anything."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I know-" he hedged. If he was any later Ron was going to start the practice without him and he really wanted to get the team through a certain set of drills in the limited amount of time they had the Pitch for today. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but practice started a minute ago and I've got to get out there."

"I won't keep you," she said, giving him a sad smile. He gave an awkward wave and hurried off. The smile bothered him. What was there to be sad about, and why had she seemed so concerned? It couldn't be because of last night could it? What had Snape told her about him? He assumed Snape had told her about the prophecy like he had told Sam, but that kind of thing never made any of his professors or the Weasleys act like that towards him. Harry wondered about it the rest of the way to the Pitch, and then fell into Captain mode and got the team going on drills.

After practice as Harry and Ron walked back to the castle a ways behind the rest of the team, Harry asked, "Ron, what do you think it would be like if your mum worked at Hogwarts?"

"Well I wouldn't be able to get away with anything, that's for sure," he said, scrunching up his nose just at the thought. "She'd probably pester me about wearing clean underwear and making sure my tie was straight, and I'd end up grounded all the time if my grades weren't up to snuff. Why, what've you heard? Dumbledore's not hiring mum is he?" Ron sounded a little panicked.

"No, but Jo just got hired."

"Yeah, so?"

"She stopped me in the hall on my way here. She gave me this sad smile like something was wrong, and kept asking if I was ok, how classes were... it was weird."

"I know you lived with them for a couple months, but she's not your mum. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Sam's the one that's got to worry. If you guys prank the Slytherin's again she's gonna be right here to get on his case."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Not my mum." He knew she wasn't, but he respected her and wanted to stay on her good side. He wanted to be able to stay with them again in the summer, and besides that, she was Snape's wife now and Harry didn't want to disappoint him by upsetting her. He hadn't even done anything wrong yet and he already felt like he'd upset her.

"Did you know, no one else in school knows about all the stuff we've done?" Harry asked suddenly, "You know... Quirril and the basilisk and all that."

Ron shrugged. "Bunch of idiots if you ask me, to go to a school and not know what's going on in it."

"Sam had no idea and neither did Jo. I was trying to talk to Severus last night and Jo and Sam acted like we were crazy. They had no idea I'd gone up against Voldemort since I was a baby. Sam said no one else in school knows. He said nobody knew why we were getting extra points in first year and no one had ever heard about how the basilisk was taken care of."

"So someone will write a book about it after we leave school," Ron said as if it didn't matter that nobody knew. "The Greatest Adventures Of The Boy Who Lived."

Harry frowned, shook his head, and then laughed. Ron laughed too. "No books, and definitely not called that."

"Bet you Hermione's already got a book half written about us in her journal."

"Probably. If I die, just make sure it gets a good title."

As Harry and Ron entered the common room a few minutes later, they spied a parchment with bold letters attached to the announcement board, proclaiming:

Swordmaster's Club
Sign up Monday night at 7 pm in the Great Hall
4th years and above only
Guardians must sign a permission slip. See Professor McGonagall to get one owled out.
Beware: Injuries will be incurred.

Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ad. "Think this is about what happened a few weeks ago?"

"Dunno," Harry said, though he did think the timing was a bit suspicious. Then again, he had asked Severus last night about learning to fight with a sword. This was awfully fast to start a club up though. Would Severus be leading it? Did he know how to sword fight?

"I'll get mum to sign a slip," Ron said.

Ginny came up to them and said, "I already asked McGonagall to send one for you and me both."

"If this is for me then Dumbledore will already have signed one," Harry told them, and Ron nodded in agreement.

Harry didn't know it until Sunday evening when he went to talk to Severus, but apparently the permission slip for Harry was a source of contention. As it turned out, Jo didn't want Harry or Sam involved in the club, but Dumbledore, being Harry's legal guardian in the wizarding world, had already signed the permission slip for him.

"It's dangerous Harry. I want you to consider that before you join the club."

"I need to learn."

"Just because you pulled the sword from the stone, doesn't mean anything. You have a wand to duel with if you need it."

Harry looked to Severus for help, but he was choosing to stay silent.

"I need to learn. We all do. Ron, Ginny, Hermione and I are all signing up. I don't think it'll be any more dangerous than playing Quidditch. We got the owls back this morning with their permission slips signed."

"You won't lose an arm in Quidditch."

Severus snorted then and Jo turned to give him an irritated look. As Severus stirred his coffee he said, "You haven't seen him play Quidditch."

"Technically I already lost an arm to that," Harry said, and Jo huffed. He had a feeling she hadn't been through his Hogwarts medical file yet but that she soon would.

"You don't need to learn to fight with a sword Harry."

"You don't know that," he said, trying not to get upset since he knew his slip had already been signed, " You haven't been here."

"Harry, you don't have to go up against Voldemort, at least not by yourself."

"When I was in the Chamber, I was by myself. That was after a Professor nearly killed himself by trying to cripple me and Ron, and after I got separated from them. I didn't know enough magic to beat Voldemort or his snake, and I think that's still true now. All I had was Gryffindor's sword. I didn't know how to use it, or how to grip it right or anything, but that was all I had to defend myself with. I almost died because I didn't know how to fight with it. I'm not stupid, I know I should be dead right now and the only reason I'm not is because the Headmaster's familiar was there to make sure I didn't. I have to be prepared for situations like this."

"But you don't Harry. They're trying to force this on you and you don't have to be involved. Voldemort is for adult's to deal with. You should be worrying about girls and Quidditch and getting good grades."

Despite his best efforts, Harry really was starting to get irritated now. He wanted her to understand and she wasn't willing to listen. She could cause problems if she didn't understand. People could die if Harry didn't have the support and information he needed.

"Jo," Harry said, trying to calm himself before he spoke the rest of what he had to say to her. "You don't understand, but you have to. When I don't learn what I'm supposed to learn... when I don't do a good enough job learning what I have to, then people die."

"Harry-"

"No, you're not listening to me. I pulled the sword. It had another prophecy attached. I have to learn to use the sword or people will die. You don't have to like it but you have to believe it. The other prophecy... the first one, I didn't know about it in time to prepare. Others knew and I didn't. They told me I had to learn Occlumency, but I didn't know why it was so important, and I didn't put in enough effort to actually learn it. Voldemort was inside my head trying to control me, and he was able to trick me, and I fell for it. Then Sirius died, and Ron almost died, and Luna and Ginny and Neville and Hermione... they all almost died, because I didn't learn what I was told to. Well I've learned my lesson now. I can't afford to make the same mistake again. You, and Sam can't afford for me to make that mistake again."

Harry turned to return his tea cup to the kitchen so he could go, as Jo had invited him to Severu's quarters after dinner for tea, but she kept him back.

"Harry no one is telling you to do this stupid club. It's dangerous and I don't even know why they're offering it here."

"No one has to tell me. I pulled the sword and then the Headmaster started this club. It's for me."

"This isn't all about you Harry," Jo said, exasperated, but Snape cleared his throat.

"He's right," Severus said. "The Headmaster started it for him. If just Harry were to receive lessons it might make it around to Voldemort, who would wonder why Harry needed to learn to fight with a sword. If it's a club open to the entire school it won't look suspicious. The Headmaster hired a swordmaster with a lot of experience to teach a club so Harry could learn."

Jo spent another five minutes protesting before Harry said he had homework to do before bed and made his escape. It seemed as though she was trying desperately hard to control him, and he didn't like it. She seemed to think she had some sort of rights over him, which she didn't, and it was starting to frustrate him. The worst part was, he couldn't see a way to make her see reason, and he couldn't see a way to make her think he wasn't worth the trouble without also angering Severus.

Back in Severus' quarters, Severus was far less perturbed than Harry was, but still getting irritated.

"Jo, whether you like it or not, whether we prepare them for it or not, the war is coming. It's not coming in a few years, and it's not coming far away from here. It will be at our doorstep. Voldemort has hundreds of followers. He has vampires and werewolves and giants. He will not show any mercy to the staff or the children. There aren't enough aurors, there aren't enough staff to fight them all off. The children will fight, or they will die, and if they don't know how to fight well they will die."

Jo sighed heavily. "They're just children Severus. It's too much for them."

"They're resilient. This isn't the only club starting this year. In a few weeks they're starting an advanced Transfiguration club, and the Headmaster asked Madam Pomfrey tonight about starting a healing club. He's also planning on asking Harry to start up a Defense Club."

"On top of his studies and Quidditch?"

"I take it Sam wasn't a part of the DA last year?"

"The what?"

"The Defense Association." He spent the next five minutes detailing all the spells Harry had taught to their illegal club the year before.

"And-"

Jo frowned and stared at him. "And what?"

"And we will be doing Occlumency again starting next week."

She shook her head. "You said we needed to keep him sane. It's too much for him to be involved in Severus. He's got to have free time. He has to have time to be a teenager. And besides, Occlumency is so taxing. He'll be exhausted after every lesson."

"I am already aware, but as he and I have already explained, it is necessary. Without it Voldemort is free to roam his mind, control his body, and trick him into believing things that are not real. He wasn't exaggerating when he said his lack of knowledge in the subject nearly got him and all of his friends killed. He also wasn't exaggerating when he said he didn't know enough magic to defeat Voldemort. He doesn't. He can't. This is why we have to teach him."

Jo put her head in her hands and Severus put his hand on her shoulder.

"You're still holding onto the idea that he's just an ordinary boy. He never has been and he never will be."

"That doesn't make it right," said Jo with resignation in her voice.

"No, it doesn't."

"And you're going to expect Sam to take Occlumency, and learn to fight with a sword?"

"I don't expect anything of him as you do not. I do however believe that every child in this castle should be prepared to fight for their lives, and I do not believe we are doing him a kindness keeping him from learning what his peers are free to learn. That is why the Weasley's are allowing their children to join these clubs, dangerous as they are."

She shook her head and sighed again. "I'm putting my foot down against the sword fighting, but- if Sam wants to join other clubs to learn defense, I won't stop him."

Severus nodded.

"I can't have him following after Harry Severus... like his friends do. I can't lose him."

He squeezed her shoulder tight and said, "All we can do is prepare them. We can't make their decisions for them."

* * *

There were only a handful of people signed up for the Swordmaster club. Harry wasn't sure if it was because only a few people were interested, or if only a few could get their permission slips signed. Sam thought it would have been fun to learn, but obviously Jo wouldn't sign his permission slip, and he was irked when he found out only those who had their slips signed were allowed in the Great Hall during club meetings, and that no spectators were allowed unless they were staff.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, two seventh year Hufflepuffs, and one fourth year Slytherin stood gathered in the Great Hall Monday evening. The tables and benches had been pushed against the walls and a wooden rack of crude, blunted wooden swords had appeared near the Head table.

"Aren't we going to use real swords?" the fourth year Slytherin asked, giving a disappointed look at the wooden swords.

"Dear me no," said the instructor, "blades are a dreadfully messy business. Wield the right blade the right way and you can chop a poor soul limb from limb. You don't even have to be artful about it, you only need to move smart enough to avoid your opponent's blade while you try to land a blow. The real 'art' in wielding a blade is knowing how your opponent moves and what he or she plans on doing to you if you let them land a blow. From the moment you face an opponent you must learn to size up their strengths and weaknesses and learn their ways, or else you will be the one with no limbs remaining when the battle is done."

"Take it from me ladies and gentlemen," said Nearly Headless Nick as he floated in and behind the instructor. He pulled his head sideways for great effect. "It wasn't skill that did this. Just sheer brute force with a dull blade. If only I had taken this class." He looked thoughtful as he floated through a wall and out of sight.

The instructor gave a nod. His name was Sir George Fisher, but he'd instructed them all to call him Sir George during lessons. He was short, only as tall as Ron was, and several of the other students were inches taller than he was. He seemed like he had come from wealth or an old family. Harry could tell by his shoes and clothes and the way he held himself as he walked around talking to them.

"I won't be teaching you how to hold a blade or strike with it. That is for you to figure out. You will either have the intuition for fighting, or you won't. All I can truly teach you is how to be observant, and this I intend on doing to the best of my ability." He looked around the small group of students and then pointed at Harry. "You there, come here."

Harry got up from his spot on the floor and went to the instructor, turning to face the class.

"What are his weaknesses?" he asked, and Harry felt awkward then, hoping his face wouldn't turn red.

"He doesn't have any!" said Neville with a laugh. "He's Harry Potter!" The class laughed but the instructor didn't look amused.

"Everybody has weaknesses. By the time you go to bed tonight you'll be seeing weakness wherever you go, I promise you that." He circled Harry and looked him up and down. "Anyone? Anyone at all?"

The students gathered looked as if they didn't have a clue, and Harry was among them. He'd never really handled a sword before aside from Arthur's sword the one time, so he didn't know what kind of weaknesses he'd have, but physically he thought he was fine. The instructor clearly didn't agree.

"Fine then. Let's break it down. He's skinny. Underfed most likely." Harry couldn't help the glare that he sent at Sir George. The man looked at his feet and then up to his arms. "Lack of muscles in his arms means he won't be able to wield a heavy blade or a broad blade. He'll end up using something light and fast. Something that slices through the air. Are you fast Potter?"

"I'm a Seeker," Harry said, and the man laughed.

"Your broom is fast. But I'll consent that a Seeker has to have fast reflexes. Walk around for me."

Harry started to walk and the instructor nodded and said, "Um humm. Does anybody see what I see? He favors his left leg. Whether that's a recent injury or a force of habit, he does it, and you won't see it unless you look for it. Are you injured Potter?"

"I tripped on the stairs on the way here."

The man nodded. "If you know he favors his left leg, you know the way he'll likely move when he's fighting. Body language. That's what you have to learn to read. It's the same when duelling with a wand. If you watch your opponent, you might be able to figure out what curse will next roll off their tongues and be able to defend yourselves against it. If you can read body language, you're better prepared to fight with a sword or wand than someone who is skilled at holding and swinging a sword, or casting hexes, but who does not pay attention to what is going on around them."

Harry sat back down and they listened to him lecture for another twenty minutes. He pulled two more students up to study and later paired them all up, giving them each a light weight blunted wooden sword. "Fight," he said. "Stay away from the face. I don't want to see anybody's eyeballs rolling across the floor tonight. I expect you to be paying attention to the way your opponent moves and figuring out how to use that to you advantage. If you're hitting them and bruising them with the dulled blades, you're doing something right. If you're getting bruised, you're doing something wrong."

Harry ended up getting paired with Neville who went straight for Harry's injured leg and landed a blow before Harry could think to stop him. Harry also landed a blow to Neville on his upper arm. The sword, though it was very light and little more than a child's toy, felt awkward and clunky in his hand. He thought a sword should slice down through the air, but his did not, and while he was thinking about it, Neville landed another blow. Harry blocked a few blows and so did Neville before Harry hit him again, this time on the side.

"This is to the death ladies and gentlemen! We are not dueling friends or relatives this evening. We are killing people on a battlefield. People who will kill you if you give them a chance."

Harry and Neville gave each other an uncertain look, and Harry was surprised a moment later when his friend's face seemed to harden. Shouts and the sounds of wood on wood met Harry's ears around the hall as other pairs took their fighting up a notch. Harry shouted in surprise when Neville lifted the sword up over his head, both hands on the handle and brought it slicing down through the air as though he meant to split Harry's skull in two. Harry closed his eyes and threw his sword up over his head barely catching the blow on his own wooden blade. Neville had used quite a bit of force though and Harry was forced to use his free hand to reach up and push back against Neville's wrist.

"This young man is prepared to kill you Potter! Stop showing him the courtesy of a friend. When the two of you have a sword in your hands, if you are not fighting together you are enemies!"

Harry pushed Neville away and noted that Neville had a sorry look on his face for a moment, but in the next second it was gone and he was swinging again. Adrenaline suddenly pumping as though he were in a wand duel against Voldemort himself, Harry closed his eyes and swung wildly at Neville, and felt his wooden sword connect with something. There was a crack and Harry opened his eyes, fearing he'd actually broken one of his friend's bones. The fighting around them stopped and the instructor was standing there with his arms crossed and nodding his head. Neville was clearly in pain.

"The first broken sword," the man said. "This is what happens when you throw caution to the wind. When one has nothing to lose because they fear losing everything if they do nothing. Pure adrenaline. Not hate. Not vengeance. Not anything emotional other than the fear that if you do nothing, you will be ended. Utterly destroyed." He turned and started to walk away.

"Disconnecting your emotions from a battle is another lesson entirely Potter, and not one I intend on teaching tonight. Longbottom, go to the infirmary. Potter, you as well. On the way there, discuss each other's weaknesses and strengths. The rest of you, keep fighting until someone is unable or a sword is broken."

The noise in the room picked up again as Harry and Neville left the Great Hall. The Entrance Hall felt cold and empty in comparison to the fighting they'd just left.

"I'm sorry," Harry said as they started to climb the stairs. "How bad did I hit you?"

Neville looked down at his shoulder. "It'll be a big bruise. And maybe you got the bone. It's ok."

"Sorry."

"I hit you more than you hit me," Neville reminded him. "It's a class. Nothing to be sorry about."

"I saw your face harden when he said it was real war. I've never seen you like that before."

They were quiet for a few moments as they walked, and finally Neville answered, "I thought about the Department of Mysteries. I never felt like the war was quite real until that night. There was a moment when Luna and I were face to face with one of the Death Eaters and he gave Luna this look... his eyes were cold and hungry. It scared me. I remembered that feeling, like I just had to do something. I saw you. I knew you were still just Harry, but there was that feeling like it was all real..."

"It made you hit hard," Harry commented. "And it is real. There's a real war out there."

"Well, from what I felt when the sword broke, looks like you felt it too."

"It was like a duel against Voldemort... one I've had too many times already."

Neville reached out and pushed Harry gently and then laughed. "Me? Voldemort? Just imagine Gran's face!" They laughed together as they made the Hospital Wing.

Jo was out. It was her night off, so Madam Pomfrey came over as though she'd been expecting them. "Why did I know it was you two who would end up here first?"

Harry had not broken Neville's arm, but there was a lot of swelling and Madam Pomfrey said the bone was bruised. Neville got a potion and some bruise balm, and Harry got bruise balm as well. As he left to go back to the common room with Neville, he thought about how it wouldn't just be bruise balm he would need the next time he faced Voldemort. The vision of Nearly Headless Nick's head tilting dangerously sideways flitted into his head and he felt sick. Had the instructor staged Nick's entrance for dramatic effect? If he had, or if he hadn't, it had worked. The war was real, and Harry would be fighting in it. Had already been fighting in it. He just wished he could make Jo understand that.