Total silence had fallen in the ward. Harry felt he had run out of things to say. Professor McGonagall had taken his place by Dumbledore’s side, holding his hand, while Madam Pomfrey kept checking his breathing and Snape stood beside Harry, his face impassive but clear fear in his eyes.

“You’re going to be okay, Albus,” Professor McGonagall kept murmuring, as if by saying it over and over again she could make it so. “You’re going to be fine.”

Without warning, after her hundredth utterance of this statement, a voice answered her. “Certainly, now you’re here my dear.”

Professor McGonagall yelped in surprise and nearly fell off her chair. One of Dumbledore’s eyes opened, crinkled in what could have been a smile or pain.

“Oh well, if he’s flirting then he’s definitely going to be all right,” Madam Pomfrey said with a small smile. Harry flooded with relief and Snape sat down suddenly.

Professor McGonagall, getting over her shock, looked as if she was about to hug Dumbledore, but Madam Pomfrey stopped her. “Better not, Minerva; give that wound a bit more time to finish healing.”

“You spoilsport, Poppy.”

“It’s for your own good, Albus,” she rebuked. “And now you’re awake, maybe you can tell us what happened?”

Dumbledore’s eyes, now open properly, swept the ward for the first time. “Harry! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said. “Well, as fine as I was before this happened.”

“Thank heavens for that.” Dumbledore tried to lever himself up on his pillows, but was abruptly stopped by both Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. “I came in and saw a knife over you.”

“What do you mean, over him?” Snape spoke up first.

“I mean, about to be plunged deep by a perpetrator who was invisible,” Dumbledore said. Snape visibly swallowed. “I think they must have escaped through there.”

He pointed at the window, and they all turned around, noticing for the first time that the window had shattered outwards, as if someone had jumped out.

“But … we’re about fifty feet up,” Minerva whispered. “Who could have …”

Madam Pomfrey eyed Dumbledore with an eyebrow raised. “And you just thought you would throw yourself at an invisible attacker holding a very long, sharp knife?”

“Oh, and I suppose you would have let Potter be stabbed to death,” Snape said before Dumbledore could speak.

“And what, may I ask, was wrong with your wand?” This time it was Professor McGonagall who asked.

“My dear, I pride myself on my quick wand skills, but in this case I would not have been quick enough. By the time I could have drawn my wand, Harry would have been seriously hurt. It also gave me the element of surprise, something very much a bonus when dealing with an invisible opponent.”

Harry swallowed, and Dumbledore met his eyes. “Thank you, Professor,” Harry finally managed to get out. “If you hadn’t been here—”

“Best not think about that, my boy,” Dumbledore said with forced cheerfulness. “Oh, and by the way—tenth of February.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“My birthday.”

“You … actually heard all that?” Harry felt his face turn scarlet.

“Yes I did; and so I shall be looking forward to those socks under my tree this Christmas.”

-

It wasn’t long until Madam Pomfrey shooed Harry back to his own bed, telling both him and Dumbledore to sleep, and the others left. Harry lay on his good shoulder, listening to the retreating footsteps of his Head of House and his father, and tried not to wonder what was going on.

Could Sirius Black really have found a way to turn invisible and drop out of a fifty-foot window without splatting to the ground? Was he somehow behind the dragon that had mysteriously appeared and then disappeared, cursing him in the process? But if it wasn’t him … who on earth could it be?

Harry shivered and pulled his blankets further round him, though it had nothing to do with the cold. An invisible killer had him shaking. If Dumbledore hadn’t been there … out of pure chance … Harry would be dead now. True, it wasn’t the first time Harry had almost lost his life, but this felt somehow different.

Suddenly he felt very vulnerable here in the Hospital Wing. At least Gryffindor Tower was protected by a password. He wondered about trying to persuade Madam Pomfrey to let him go back to the dormitory. Harry was no coward, and his shoulder hurt like hell, but there didn’t seem much point in him being a sitting duck right here until she knew what the problem was, right?

Harry’s thoughts froze as he heard something—footsteps. While this wouldn’t have been anything to worry about before, Harry was certain that these ones were quite lightly stepped, as if the walker wished to not make a sound. His hand slowly reached for his wand, and as the footsteps reached the end of his bed, he sat up suddenly. “Expelliarmus!”

Someone landed hard against the wall, cursing. Someone invisible. Harry jumped out of bed, wand clutched tight, and was just about to either yell for Madam Pomfrey or cast another spell when a familiar voice said, “Wait!” and with a swishing noise, Snape appeared.

Harry gasped and nearly dropped his wand. “You nearly scared me to death!” he whispered angrily.

Snape swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What are you doing here?”

Snape frowned. “Do you have to ask? After what just happened? I’m staying right here, until Poppy lets you go.”

“But … what about the secrecy?” Harry said, anxious but oddly touched at the same time.

“Well, for starters, that was the point of being invisible. It’s a trick I learned from Albus a little while ago. Secondly, right now I am much more concerned for your safety.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward pause. Harry finally lowered his wand. “Um, sorry I attacked you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I should have expected it. I am sorry, again.”

Harry bit his lip. “Professor.”

Snape paused for a moment before saying, “Yes?”

“Um, if you’re going to stay … would you mind staying outside the ward? I don’t like feeling that someone’s watching me.”

Snape nodded. “I understand.” He waved his wand, disappeared again, and Harry heard him return to the door. “Sleep well, Harry,” his father whispered before leaving the ward.

Perhaps because he was worn out by the excitement, but Harry actually fell asleep and slept soundly until he became aware of familiar voices around him.

“… think he’s asleep, Ron.”

“I’m not gonna wake him up, Hermione.”

The pain came back in full force and Harry groaned. “Morning,” he said wearily, rubbing his eyes with his good arm. “What’s the time?”

“Nearly time for class; we can’t stay long.” His friends came slowly into view. “How’s your shoulder? Any better?”

“Nope,” Harry said, stifling a yawn.

“Sorry mate, we didn’t mean to wake you. Was it a bad night?”

“Well, it was certainly eventful,” Harry muttered.

“Eventful?” Hermione looked surprised. “In what way?”

Harry looked from one to the other. “Er … you guys don’t know yet?”

“Know what?”

“That someone tried to kill me last night?”

Both gasped. “Harry! Are you all right?”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, “Was it Black?”

“Don’t know,” Harry admitted. “Whoever it was, was invisible.”

They all shuddered. “Oh my goodness,” Hermione whispered. “What happened?”

“He tried to stab me, in this very bed.” Ron gulped. “Luckily for me, Dumbledore was passing and I guess he heard something or something, ‘cause he looked in and saw a floating knife, and tackled the guy.”

Ron whistled. “Wow. Nice one, Dumbledore.”

Hermione elbowed him. “Is he okay?” Ron’s face fell, as if it hadn’t occurred to him Dumbledore could have been hurt. Harry could understand this—Dumbledore had always felt sort of … unhurtable. Permanent, even.

“Madam Pomfrey says he will be. But it was a close one.” Harry nodded towards the pulled curtains at the other end of the ward. “He’s down there. It was …” Harry swallowed. “Scary.”

The bell for class went. Hermione quickly squeezed his hand.

“We’ve got to go, but we’ll be back later, Harry. Come on, Ron.”

“I don’t want to,” Ron grumbled. “If Snape’s teaching that class again …”

Hermione tugged him out of the Hospital Wing, and Harry lay back down, thinking about trying for some more sleep.

He was just dozing off when he heard footsteps again. Like before, they were very light, and Harry wondered if it was his father—mind you, wouldn’t Snape be teaching now? He had said he was going to stay outside the Hospital Wing; but surely that was just during the night, when everyone was asleep, not when he had his job to do.

Harry didn’t want to startle him again, but he couldn’t just ignore them. So, after gripping his wand, he sat up very slowly.

The footsteps stopped just after he started to sit up. Once he was sitting up, he realised why. A complete stranger was standing a couple of feet from his bed, staring at him as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.