"HARRY!"

Remus actually had to let Harry go and grab both Ron and Hermione around the waists, one in each arm, to keep them from knocking Harry off his feet when they entered the hospital wing. The two of them struggled blindly against him.

"Easy! Easy, you two! Calm down! Harry needs quiet!" he urged as Harry stepped around them, heading mechanically for his usual bed.

Ron and Hermione got a grip on themselves and slowly came to Harry's side, watching with anxious, tired eyes as he sank gratefully onto the mattress. "Are you okay, mate?" Ron whispered.

He was, he supposed, even though he felt more bone-tired than he had in a long time, his feet were all scuffed up from barefoot rock-climbing, and his bruises were sore. And he had a funny, tight feeling in his stomach, that queasy sense of not knowing exactly what to feel. He couldn't remember much of what had happened in the Fortress of Shadows, but what had taken place on the mountain was giving him quite enough to think about.

"I'm okay, I think," Harry sighed, looking at Ron. "Just tired. Hi, Mrs. Weasley," he said, forcing a smile as Ron's mother came to join them.

Mrs. Weasley was smiling, but her eyes were full. She had a pair of Harry's pajamas in her hands, but she set them down and pulled him into her arms. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "Thank heavens. Thank heavens!"

"I'm all right," he murmured, feeling his throat tighten at once. He hated that—not her hugs (not at all) but the way he always reacted to them. She let him go, and he smiled weakly. "Really, I'm all right."

"You were so sick! And then, when you disappeared…we thought you were dead," Hermione said in a small voice.

"All right now, everyone calm down," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling over and setting up the screens. "Mr. Potter has had quite enough excitement. Change out of those filthy clothes, Harry," she told him in a gentler voice. "You'll be here for at least two days."

Numbly, Harry obeyed, but as he went behind the screens, he saw Madam Pomfrey returning to Professor Snape, who was grudgingly allowing her to treat his various injuries. His eyes met Harry's over her shoulder once, but Harry lost his nerve and ducked behind the screens. Once he got changed, he moved them away himself and climbed into the bed. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to be shut into any enclosed space.

Ron and Hermione came to sit with him, and he could see Remus talking to Professor Dumbledore. Why did he still feel so…nervous? Mrs. Weasley brushed a hand over his dirty hair. "All right, Harry?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He swallowed hard; he had to find something to think about! "What did I miss?"

Ron laughed weakly. "Nothing much. Just all of us getting flipping hysterical." Harry mustered a grin. "What did…I mean…if it doesn't bother you to talk about it…"

"Ron!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, but Harry shook his head.

"It's all right. I don't…really remember that much of the first part. I know I wound up in the Fortress, but then Remus and…Professor Snape brought me out. We spent the night on the mountain outside the Forest before Professor Dumbledore came with the Aurors." Harry avoided their eyes. He didn't think he could stand to go into detail now. At that moment, movement across the room caught his eye.

"Yes, you may go, but do not overexert yourself for the next few days," Madam Pomfrey was admonishing Snape as he straightened his robes and headed for the door.

"Sir!" Harry blurted, before he knew what he was doing. Snape paused, looking at him with a blank face, and he gulped. "I…I just wanted…er…for everything you…" he trailed off, feeling blood rush to his face as his nerve failed again.

An odd expression crossed Snape's face for a moment, but it was gone too quickly for Harry to identify it. Then the Potions Master slowly nodded. "Understood, Mr. Potter." As his friends watched in confusion, Harry nodded back, and Professor Snape headed out the hospital wing door and was gone.

He let out his breath slowly. He hadn't expected Snape to accept his gratitude. "What was that all about, mate?" Ron asked.

As Madam Pomfrey came over to the bedside carrying an entire tray of potions, Harry said, "He saved my life. Again. He and Professor Lupin. It was a big risk, and he got hurt, but…" he shook his head and took a vial Madam Pomfrey handed him.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want," said Hermione softly.

"What he does have to do is rest," Madam Pomfrey said, shoving another potion at him. "Talk later."

"Can we still sit with him?" Ron pleaded, startling Harry.

"You may, but you are not to tire him!"

"Yes, ma'am! All right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, finishing his last potion and immediately starting to feel sleepy From the way Ron was reacting, he must have really been worried. "I'll tell you about it," he promised them. "Just…" he yawned heavily and leaned back on the pillows, "not right now. 'sa kinda long…story…mmm…"

---

"Crucio!"

Black-robed wizards writhed one after the other on the cold, wet stones at Harry's feet. There was no mercy to be had for any of them; he ignored their babbled apologies and shrieks for forgiveness. "You have failed me again. Again!" he hissed, his high, cold voice tight with rage. "The boy was in my power, and again, you allowed the traitor to take him from me!"

The wizard at his feet looked up, groaning, as Harry lifted the curse at last. "We'll get him back, Master! We will find a way!"

"You will, or you will all suffer! And you will kill the traitor!"

"Yes, Master!" sobbed the balding little wizard.

"Get up. We have no more time to waste here. Go to the meeting site and wait for me. All of you."

Cringing and quivering from their punishments, the Death Eaters filed out. Harry waited, standing at the large window and glaring out at the silver mountain beyond the Forest. Then he Disapparated, and the world re-formed in a clearing deep in the woods. He made his way to where the others awaited him, just outside a ring of tall torches.

The flames and the wizards' robes whipped in the high wind. In front of each torch stood a Death Eater, and more—many more—waited outside the Circle. Harry surveyed the scene with satisfaction—at least his followers had not rendered his plans a complete waste. He nodded briskly to the tall, masked wizard on his right. "Let the students have the privilege of witnessing tonight's ceremony. It will do them good."

"Yes, Master." The Death Eater leaned beyond the torch and beckoned. A small group of figures, definitely younger than the others, came close to the light but did not enter. Their hoods were raised, obscuring their unmasked faces, but Harry nodded to them. They bowed in return, his youngest recruits, future servants. The children of all his favored Death Eaters. In that at least, his followers had done well, raising their offspring to serve him.

Returning his gaze to the circle directly in front of him, Harry ordered, "Let the initiates approach!"

From the shadows without, more unmasked wizards and witches filed in, each escorted by a masked Death Eater. They came, more and more, until there was a very large crowd of black robes in the circle, although ample space remained in front of Harry himself. They waited silently for him to speak.

"We gather tonight to a great purpose," he declared, his voice carrying easily through the circle. "Tonight we join into our ranks the newest wizards and witches who have proven themselves worthy of service to me. They are welcomed because they have shown the will for our unrelenting search for power. They are welcomed because they have shown the strength to stand against the Mudbloods and their supporters. They have shown themselves fit to take the places we shall all occupy when those who oppose us are overthrown, and we have assumed our rightful position of absolute power!"

A great roar of affirmation went up from the Death Eaters. The initiates were silent, but Harry could sense their anticipation. There was an even stronger scent of excitement without, from the students. Harry turned to them.

"I summoned you here, my young candidates, that you may see the consummation of this vow to which you all aspire. In two years, when you have proven yourselves worthy, you shall take your places among us and enter our circle freely."

The children shifted eagerly, and Harry turned to their parents. "Bring your sons and daughters closer. Within the circle. Let them have a clear view of this goal."

It never hurt to stir the flame for those little moths. He watched as certain of his Death Eaters left the circle and brought back their children, leading them by the shoulder. They returned to their respective places with the youngsters standing in front of them.

Harry returned his attention to that night's initiates. "Advance," he ordered.

They did, nearly twenty strong, some young, some older, all powerful and pure-blooded. Worthy additions to his ranks; he took no useless servants. The first pair stepped forward. The sponsoring Death Eater, Avery, removed his mask.

"I present Nicholas Dawlish to your service, my lord."

"Come forward and swear your fealty, Dawlish," Harry ordered.

The wizard lowered the hood of his robe, revealing short gray hair, and stepped toward Harry, eyes lowered, kneeling to kiss the hem of his robes. "Master, I am at your command for as long as I live." He held out his left arm.

Harry touched his wand to the wizard's bare skin. "Nectoviscus Morsmorde!"

He saw, from the corner of his eye, the other Death Eaters' movement as their own flesh reacted to the new Dark Mark now burned black on Dawlish's arm. "Rise." Dawlish did, betraying none of the pain that Harry knew he had felt with the branding. Good. "Welcome, my servant. Join your fellow Death Eaters."

With a trembling bow, Dawlish followed Avery to the others, where they gave him a mask of his own to put on. The next pair advanced. The initiate was an astonishingly beautiful young witch, with deep golden hair and blue eyes that would appear innocent and artless to any outsiders. So much the better. Bellatrix Lestrange removed her mask. "I present Delilah Hornby to your service, my lord."

And so it went. Eighteen new Death Eaters received the Dark Mark in that ring of torchlight, and in the end, Harry was satisfied. He allowed the recruits to mingle with their fellows as the children were being escorted from the circle by their parents. "Wait."

Everyone froze. To the children, Harry ordered, "Lower your hoods."

Hesitantly, they did so and stood openly before him. Pansy Parkinson, flanked by both her parents, Millicent Bulstrode and her mother, Crabbe, Goyle, and their fathers, young Theodore Nott and his father, Montague and his mother, and, of course, Lucius and Draco Malfoy. "Each of you have committed yourselves to this service in two years' time," he told them. "Devote all your power and skill to me, and the power deserved by all our kind shall be yours. Remember that, my young followers. Your night is coming."

There was more than one excited intake of breath from the youngsters. As their parents escorted them out, Harry intercepted one pair. His father's hand on his shoulder was all that stopped Draco Malfoy from rocking back on his heels. The boy bowed hastily, and Harry smiled thinly at him. "I am pleased with you, Lucius. You have raised your son well. I sensed his eagerness above all the others."

"You are generous, Master," murmured Lucius, half-bowing.

Harry held up a hand, and Lucius released his son's shoulder. "Come to me, Draco."

Tension was at the forefront of the surge of emotions from the boy, but he did not hesitate to step toward his future master. Harry placed two fingers beneath the youth's chin and made him look up. Despite the fear that Harry expected—and enjoyed—he met Harry's gaze steadily. "You are a credit to your breeding, Draco. I have no doubt you will join your father at my right hand in time."

"I will, my lord," the boy whispered fiercely. Harry released him, and he stepped back to Lucius, whose grip on his shoulder was tighter still. Harry sensed that Draco was as delighted by his father's display of pride as by his lord's attention. Both were useful.

As they took their leave, Draco was greeted and praised by many of the others. "Until next time, son," said Rudolphus cheerfully, and Bella went so far as to kiss the boy on both cheeks. They had sensed that their lord wanted them to cultivate this one.

"I can't wait until I can stay," Harry heard Draco say to his father as they exited the circle.

"Patience," Lucius replied proudly. "Our lord favors you; your time will come."

Harry waited until all the children had been safely escorted out and their parents returned so the second half of the initiation could begin. The newcomers were already bracing themselves as they stood in front of the others.

"Dawlish," Harry called. The wizard came slowly to stand in front of him. "Crucio!"

And the circle filled with the newest Death Eaters' screams.

---

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Someone was shaking him vigorously. "Potter!"

Harry jerked out of sleep with a strangled gasp, looking instinctively at his hands. "He's cursing them," he panted, struggling against the restraining arms. "He sent the younger ones away so he could torture—"

"HARRY! Slow down!" Hermione's voice cut through the haze of panic. Blinking, he took his glasses from her and put them on, sighing heavily as the world came into focus.

He was still in the hospital wing; judging by the moonlight in the windows, it was late at night. Ron and Hermione were still with him, along with Mrs. Weasley, Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Tonks and Moody, and to Harry's surprise, Snape.

"What did you see, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry swallowed hard. For some reason, Snape's presence made him nervous. "Vol—I mean, the Dark Lord was initiating new Death Eaters. I couldn't…it lasted a long time, and I couldn't wake from it…"

"That's my fault," sighed Madam Pomfrey. "I gave him a heavy Sleeping Potion."

"'s all right," Harry muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest. "It wasn't bad…till the end. There were a lot of them."

Tonks and Moody groaned simultaneously. "That's all we need. How many?"

"Eighteen," said Harry. He started naming them, and Dumbledore motioned for silence, though the others hissed when they heard a name they recognized.

"Oh, Dawlish, you bloody fool," growled Moody when Harry finished.

Tonks pulled a face. "Delilah Hornby was a year behind me at the Auror Program. Talented witch, but doesn't like rules. If she's joined You-Know-Who, we're in trouble."

"Bloody hell," Moody muttered. "Two more Aurors gone bad. This is reminding me more and more of the last war. Dawlish was at the top of his class, and the Hornby girl has all the skill and charm of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy rolled together."

That triggered Harry's memory. "The Death Eaters had their children there too. Voldemort wanted them to watch the ceremony."

Snape stiffened. "Draco was there?"

Harry nodded. "And Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson and—"

Snape sprang to his feet and sprinted for the hospital wing fireplace. Dumbledore watched him go, then closed his eyes for a moment. "Who else do you remember, Harry?"

"Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode are the only others I knew. But there were more," Harry said. "Voldemort sent them away before using the Cruciatus Curse on the new Death Eaters."

"He is a skilled recruiter," Dumbledore said grimly.

"Headmaster, can't anything be done to keep the Slytherins away from him?" asked Hermione.

"I can control their movements to some extent in school, Miss Granger, but I fear I have no claim upon their hearts. If they are set upon joining him, all I may do is delay it."

Harry sighed. "They don't know what they're getting into! Voldemort's keeping the worst of it from them. As soon as they join him, then he'll start to torture them."

"As Severus knows all too well," said Dumbledore, patting his hand. "We will do what we can. You should continue to rest, Harry. Would you like some Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

"Yes, please," Harry murmured. The memory of the torch circle seemed burned into his head. They all seemed so…devoted. Even the ones who knew what Voldemort was going to do to them. Why! Why would anyone want to live like that for some vague promise of power? Since when did kissing somebody else's robes and groveling on the ground and getting tortured make you powerful?

Along with everything else that had happened, it was becoming too much to think about, and when Madam Pomfrey came with his potion, he gratefully gulped it down.

---

When he woke again sometime later, Ron and Hermione were sitting on the bed next to his. Hermione was reading, and Ron was snoozing—with his head in her lap. Hermione noticed Harry watching them, blinked, and blushed, grinning sheepishly. "Feeling better?" she whispered.

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday. You woke up from the vision last night, Monday."

Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. He did feel better, just tired now instead of weak and sick. "Did Professor Snape catch Malfoy and the others?"

Ron had awoken and sat up, pulling a face. "He caught them all right: Malfoy and Parkinson were snogging in a broom closet, Crabbe and Goyle managed to get into the boys' loo, and Nott and Bulstrode were snogging behind a suit of armor."

"Ergo, nobody can prove anything," sighed Hermione. "All Professor Snape could do was give them all detention for a week. He's supervising it himself, so with any luck that'll keep them all under supervision for now, but that won't last."

Harry shuddered. "That bad, mate?" asked Ron.

Shaking his head, Harry flopped across his bed and groaned, "They think they're going to be powerful. But they're just going to wind up torturing and killing people and getting tortured whenever Voldemort's in a foul mood, and kissing the git's robes. No better than slaves."

"I read about his recruiting efforts in the first war. Voldemort's good at making attractive promises," said Hermione, but something in the way she glanced at Ron made Harry groan.

"What else has happened?"

Ron avoided his eyes, confirming that it wasn't good. "The top git's already making good use of his new lackies. They attacked Diagon Alley this morning."

Harry sat bolt upright. "Was anyone hurt?"

Miserably, his friends nodded. "We don't know much so far, but there were injuries."

"The twins?"

"They're okay, just really livid. Especially George. After what happened to Fred, he takes every Death Eater attack personally. Fred had to put him in a Body Bind to keep him from running out into the fray. We just got an owl saying they're fine, but nothing since. Classes are cancelled," Ron told him.

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "It must have been bad."

"There's no way to know yet," said Hermione. "But some of the teachers went to help. Professor McGonagall and Mr. McGonagall are gone, and Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout."

With another groan, Harry rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. "I am so ruddy tired of all this."

"Aren't we all, mate," said Ron, patting his back. "I just hope that was the last time you ruddy disappear on us!"

Peering over his arm at Ron, Harry smiled wearily. "Sorry about that. I guess it must have scared you."

Hermione nodded gravely. "Nobody knew what had happened to you. We thought…" she looked away.

"You thought I was dead?" They nodded. Harry sighed. "So did I, for awhile."

"What happened?" asked Ron. "Especially with Snape, the git's been here twice to see how you are!"

"Really?" Harry stared, and Hermione nodded confirmation. "Well…I guess you'd better get comfortable. It's a bit of a long story."

By the time he had finished, both their mouths were hanging open. "Remus kept his mind in full werewolf form?" Hermione gasped, delighted.

"I doubt if it'll happen again," said Harry. "There was something really odd about that mountain."

"What shape was the Boggart?" asked Ron.

"Huh?"

"How did you know what it was? What shape did it take?"

Harry swallowed. "Oh. Right. A…dementor. I guess it saw me first, and Professor Snape got rid of it."

"Did it change to anything for him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I…guess there wasn't time. He was quick." Ron seemed to accept that, but Hermione shot Harry a doubtful look. To his relief, she didn't press. "I wonder how soon I can get out of here?"

"When classes resume, Mr. Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, coming to join them. "Until then I want you off your feet—no arguments. We are not going down this same old road every time you wind up here. You leave when I say you leave." She shoved a dinner tray at him and walked off, muttering, "Your health's fragile enough as it is."

"I am not fragile!" Harry exclaimed in outrage.

---

But Harry couldn't deny that even when he was released, he moved almost as slowly as he had in the first days of school. Fortunately, this time he wasn't the only one. The attack on Diagon Alley had been bad, according to the special edition of the Daily Prophet that had arrived that evening. Many stores had been damaged, four people had died, and dozens had been hurt. Including, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were horrified to learn, Neville Longbottom's grandmother.

They met Neville outside the common room Wednesday morning after Harry got out of the hospital wing. Neville was carrying a rucksack for an overnight trip to London to visit his grandmother in St. Mungo's. "Oh, Neville, was it bad?" Hermione exclaimed.

Neville's face was drawn and pinched, but he shook his head. "Not too bad. They say she'll be able to leave in a few days. She just wanted to see me." He glanced around and lowered his voice, leaning toward them. "It was Bellatrix Lestrange."

Hermione put a hand over her mouth, and Harry felt his stomach lurch. "How'd you hear…"

"An Auror friend of the family. I asked him. He said it happened in front of a lot of witnesses. Lestrange knew who my gran was and…" Neville looked away, but he didn't look like he was going to cry. To Harry, he seemed to be shaking with fury. And Harry didn't blame him one bit.

"We'll get her, Neville. One day we'll get her," he promised.

"Bloody right we will," Neville growled, his fists clenched. He forced a smile at Ron and Hermione and gave Harry a little pat on the shoulder. "I'd better go. See you later?"

"Send us an owl if you need anything," said Hermione.

"When's the next DA meeting?" Neville asked, pausing at the top of the stairs.

"Ahhh…" Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "A lot of people are gone to visit St. Mungo's. Let's just make it…sort of…independent practice this week for anyone who shows up, and we'll do something more organized next time."

"Right then. See you Thursday."

"I'll copy my class notes for you, Neville!" Hermione called after him.

"Thanks!"

Scowling, Harry headed through the portrait hole. "The sooner somebody offs Bellatrix Lestrange the better."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, but Ron growled, "Right about that, mate."

"Don't talk that way, you two, you shouldn't joke about killing people!"

"Well, what else does she deserve!" Harry snapped, rounding on Hermione. She jumped in dismay, and even Ron stared at him. Harry caught himself, seeing other people in the common room, and said tightly, "Besides, I'm not bloody joking."

"Harry…" Hermione moaned, but Harry turned and stalked up the dormitory stairs.

Behind him, he heard Ron saying, "Just leave it. He's not in the mood."

"He's never in the mood, that's what worries me! He's not in the mood to be reasonable anymore!"

---

Harry's mood didn't improve in the days and weeks that followed, as the wizarding world reeled under a growing onslaught of attacks from Voldemort's growing ranks. His dreams were filled with shadowy nightmares of the veil, Bellatrix Lestrange, and a big black dog being tormented by Death Eaters in the Fortress of Shadows. The wards on the dormitory were weakening, and once they failed, his visions came back full-force. That, of course, meant more Occlumency.

If Harry no longer dreaded the lessons because of Snape's sadistic enjoyment of his misery, the awkwardness that had replaced it didn't help much. Of course, Snape was anything but friendly. Harry knew better than to expect that (and didn't especially want it either.) But the awareness of all that had transpired on the mountain hung over them like a cloud, and neither could seem to wave it away.

Nothing was the same anymore.

Not that Harry and Snape were the only ones living under a cloud. Students walked around school with heads hanging, shoulders hunched with tension, especially if an owl flew toward the teachers' table at an unusual time. Everyone waited for news of the next round of casualties. And there were lots of casualties.

Hermione used her tips from Rita Skeeter to keep a step ahead of the newspapers, which gave them something of an advanced warning of the rising call for action by the Ministry about the threats from the Death Eaters…and Harry.

"Nothing's being released to the papers yet," Hermione told them one day at lunch. "But Rita's getting some gossip from people in the lower levels of the Ministry: there are meetings going on. Talks of new Educational Decrees and the like."

"Meaning they're going after Dumbledore again," said Ron, losing interest in his sandwich.

Harry folded his arms on the table to rest his head as Hermione replied, "Not going after him, just trying to overrule him. 'For the greater safety of the student body' or some other such nonsense. Rita thinks Fudge is obsessed with getting to Harry."

"Why!" Ron demanded. "What can he possibly hope to accomplish!"

"A one-up against Dumbledore," growled Hermione "That's what." She reached past Ron to pat Harry's hand. Harry noticed they had both taken to doing that lately, along with Ginny—constantly poking, tapping, or patting him as though to reassure themselves that he was really there. It was alternately annoying and comforting.

"What she's saying is Fudge is off his rocker," he told Ron. "Remus told me Fudge likes to kill the messenger. I'm the messenger."

"Can't Percy do anything?" groaned Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "Percy's in enough trouble. Fudge is convinced Dumbledore has spies in the Ministry, and he's constantly hauling staff in for questioning. If Percy mucked around with the hearings on Harry, he'd get caught."

"Blimey, I hope he'll be okay."

"What's the worst that could happen? He'd get fired and come home," said one of the twins.

"Or sent straight to Azkaban," said Ginny darkly. "I wish he'd quit that job. I don't like him being there. He's in danger from two sides."

"Our side will take care of him if anything happens," said Hermione firmly. "Let's just hope this all blows over."

---

If spirits were low among the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, there was one group at Hogwarts that definitely did not seem to be feeling the weight of the war. In the days after that first vision of the initiation, Harry and his friends couldn't help but notice the change in Draco Malfoy and many of his friends. The Death Nibbler-in-Chief, (as Ron dubbed him) practically bounced down the corridors between classes, looking more impressed with himself than ever. He became less confrontational with Harry and Professor Snape and the other Houses, but wore smugness like a designer cloak.

Harry watched his posturing in Defense one day with disgust. "He thinks he's got it made because he got personal attention from Voldemort," he whispered to Ron and Hermione as the bell rang.

She shuddered as they waved to Remus and headed out the door. "Why anyone in their right mind would want his attention is beyond me."

Pansy Parkinson was simpering along behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the corridor and elbowed Hermione out of the way. "Stand aside, Granger! Let the proper wizards through first."

Hearing Malfoy's chuckling ahead of them, Harry snapped, "Yeah, everyone better clear the way for Voldemort's future chief bootlicker!"

Gasps rang out, and predictably, Malfoy spun around. Ron grabbed Harry's arm, but Harry shook him off. He wanted to make that stupid, stupid Slytherin good and mad, and let him know just how astronomically stupid he really was. At least the adrenaline rush was burning away some of the frustrated tension.

On the other hand, it was being replaced by an almost unbearable temptation to smash Malfoy's sneering face. "You don't realize who you're dealing with anymore, Potter. You'd better watch your mouth," Malfoy drawled.

"Or what? You'll Crucio me like your friend Bellatrix Lestrange? Or use the Killing Curse like your dad?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Malfoy retorted and turned to go.

"No?" Harry sneered. "How'd you like Voldemort's little initiation party? Must've made you proud, getting personal attention from the red-eyed git, hearing him congratulate your dad on training you to be a proper little house elf!"

Pansy's mouth fell open, and Malfoy turned dead white. "Wha—what're you—"

Gleefully, Harry dug deeper, "Yeah, that's right, I saw it! You're an idiot, Malfoy, you're all idiots. Want to know what happened after your mummies and daddies sent you home?"

"Shut up, Potter! SHUT UP!" Malfoy roared, whipping out his wand, but Harry's was already pointed at him.

"Your dad's boss welcomed all his new 'servants' with the bloody Cruciatus Curse! That what you've got in mind for a job? The git torturing you for fun?" Harry spat.

Crabbe and Goyle blanched, glancing at Malfoy, who hissed, "You're a liar."

"Think that if you want, but keep crawling along after Voldemort, and you'll find out first hand who's got the real power—"

"Harry, that's enough!" Someone grabbed his arm, and he turned to see Professor Lupin. Pushing through the crowded students from the opposite direction was Professor Snape. "Clear the corridor, all of you!" said Lupin. "Harry, Draco, I—"

"I will see to my House, thank you, Professor Lupin," said Snape curtly. "Slytherins, with me." Over the rebellious mutters, he roared, "NOW!" Shooting Harry a last, furious glare, Malfoy scurried with the others.

"Harry." As the adrenaline and disgust at the junior Death Eaters wore off, Harry felt the first twinges of apprehension as he turned to face Professor Lupin again. Remus's face was carefully calm as he motioned to the classroom door. "Hermione, Ron, run along, please."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, and gave Harry a helpless look as they headed down the hall.

Harry followed Lupin quietly back into the classroom and found that it was hard to look him in the eye. He stared at his feet instead and waited for the ball to drop. "Tea?"

"No," he muttered, not looking up.

Silence echoed for several moments until it was almost unbearable, then he winced inwardly as Lupin said, "That was irresponsible, Harry."

"I know," he sighed miserably.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Because I'm sick of this!" Harry burst out in frustration. He managed not to shout, and hoped Lupin realized he wasn't the one Harry was angry at. "I'm sick of all this…this…mincing about! There's a war on, and those little gits are working for the other side, and nobody's doing anything!"

"Harry, first of all, calm down. The way I showed you," Remus said firmly. Harry tried to breathe, but the hot, churning mass of frustrated anger made it hard. "Sit for a minute." He obeyed, glaring at the desk top. He wanted to hit it. "Harry…"

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "I'm trying, I just…I can't be calm all the time!"

Remus sighed and sat down on the edge of the desk. "I know. I do know this isn't easy on you."

That's what Dumbledore always says, Harry thought bitterly. He hated that heat in his stomach. He wished it would go away. It was keeping him from being comforted by Remus's quiet voice as he usually was.

"I won't talk about…the vision again. Can I go now?" he tried, but failed to keep the resentment out of his voice.

"Harry…"

"What's the point of this!" he demanded. Remus was hiding something—as usual—Harry was certain of it. Whatever the Order was up to, they were keeping him in the dark—like always. "I don't know what's going on, and you're not going to tell me! You can't because ruddy Dumbledore won't let you! Just let me go!"

Remus looked sympathetically at him. Stop it! "All right. I'll see you later."

Harry left in a hurry and met Ron and Hermione for lunch. "What happened?" Ron demanded. "He didn't yell at you, did he?"

"Might as well have," Harry muttered. "They're planning something. I can tell."

"Well…" Hermione pushed a sandwich toward him and said, "That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, except that as usual none of us is allowed to know anything," Harry groused.

"Come on, mate, be reasonable!" Ron exclaimed. "You…" he lowered his voice and leaned toward them. "Anything you find out, Voldemort could!"

Harry sighed heavily. "I know, I bloody know! I just…I hate this!" Hermione tried to rub his back, but he shook her hand off. "Don't, I'm not in the mood."

What reply Hermione would have made was forestalled by a flock of owls soaring into the Great Hall with rolled-up newspapers in their beaks and claws. "Oh no…another special edition."

On Harry's other side, Neville sat stiffly as the birds swooped down. Ginny reached over to squeeze Neville's shoulder. "Your gran hasn't been going out much since Diagon Alley, has she?"

Neville shook his head. "Only when she needs to." He took a deep breath as the papers were handed out. "Brace yourselves."

The Great Hall was unnaturally quiet as people snagged papers and opened them. Then sighs of relief echoed and conversations sprang up as the headline was revealed to be nothing involving death and destruction, but Ron, looking at the headline, was frowning. "Ron? What is it?" asked Ginny.

With a puzzled face, Ron turned the paper around so Harry, Ginny, and Neville could see the front page:

Ministry of Magic Launches Massive Investigation, Minister Revealed to be Victim of Memory Tampering!

Harry's blood froze. "That's very odd," Hermione was saying as she scanned her own copy. "Could this be a farce or do you think someone actually—Harry? What's the matter?" she asked, seeing his white face.

This is all my fault… "I should talk to Dumbledore," Harry murmured. This was it. If Percy was found out…they'll go after both him and me. And the rest of the Weasleys. All because of me, he'll wind up in Azkaban!

Ron and Ginny were watching him. "Harry," said Ginny in a very low voice. "Do you know something?"

Harry nodded mutely. He couldn't…he'd promised Percy…but he had to do something…

He was let off the hook when Hermione, as usual, figured it out. Her mouth fell open. "Oh my God." Keeping her voice barely above a whisper, she breathed, "It was Percy."

Ron and Ginny stared from Hermione to Harry, then they both buried their faces in their hands. "That's why Fudge didn't go after you the first time, isn't it?" Ron moaned.

Harry nodded helplessly. "He made me swear I wouldn't tell you, but he thought I should know how far Fudge would go." He looked at Hermione. "Will they find out it was him?"

Hermione looked at the paper. "If they do Priori Incantatem tests on the staff's wands…which they are. Oh lord, this is bad."

"What'll happen to him?"

"Knowing Fudge? I don't want to imagine!"

Harry stood up. "I'm going to go talk to Remus. He'll know something."

---

Harry caught Remus coming out of the Great Hall. "Re—Professor, can I talk to you? It's important."

Carrying a copy of the Daily Prophet from lunch, Remus raised his eyebrows, and Harry nodded significantly at it. "Let's go back to my office." They walked there in silence and took seats by the fireside and Harry sat back in the chair to hear what Remus had to say. "So Percy told you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "What's the Order going to do?"

Remus stared into the fire, then looked at Harry. He hesitated for a moment. "This is going to be unpleasant. I'm sure Hermione has already had it from her resident source on Ministry gossip. I'm afraid Cornelius Fudge is up to his old tricks, trying to stir up trouble for Dumbledore."

Harry snorted. "Is Fudge trying to get him removed as Headmaster again?"

Remus shook his head. "No, he won't try that. There's still too much bad press around from his last effort. No, Harry, after everything that happened with the Quidditch attack and your possession by Voldemort last month, he's calling for Dumbledore to be censured for failing to protect the students. Trying to place a black mark on his otherwise perfect record."

"What a swine!" Harry exploded. "As if we need to be wasting time on things like that!"

Remus fixed troubled eyes on Harry. "Fudge is doing this because he can't figure out how to respond to the threat of Voldemort. They know about his increasing recruitment not only because of the bolder attacks, but because Dumbledore reported your vision. He's calling again for you to be removed from Hogwarts immediately and placed under Ministry supervision indefinitely."

For a moment, Harry thought he was going to be sick. He stared at Lupin. "Remus, they can't...they won't..."

Remus shook his head. "No, Harry. They can't and they won't. Not while Dumbledore is here. In fact, not while Minerva or Severus or any of the staff are here." He took a very slow, deep breath, in the same manner that he'd taught Harry to calm down when he was agitated. "Not while I am alive will Cornelius Fudge use you as a pawn."

There had to be more to this. Remus was as upset as Harry had ever seen him. If there was no danger that he could be forcibly removed, then the problem was…something else. "Remus, what's going on?"

Remus hesitated. "Steps are being taken, Harry. We hope to have a resolution to the situation soon—well, part of the situation anyway." He pulled a face. "You have to understand that I can't go into detail."

There was something there, something Lupin wasn't telling him. "But what about Percy? What will happen when they find out about the Memory Charm?"

"You have to trust us in this," Remus urged him. "Percy will be all right. Remember, we have other friends in the Ministry; you have nothing to be worried about."

"Then what are you so worried about?" Harry pleaded. "Something else is happening, I can tell!"

Remus looked directly at Harry. "This isn't an easy thing for me to say to you, Harry, but try to understand. From this point on, we can tell you nothing. You have to be kept completely in the dark. That's the only way we can be sure that there is no possibility that what we plan will be picked up by Voldemort."

Harry sat, feeling frustrated, let-down, and confused, then suddenly found himself angry, overwhelmingly so. "That's just great! Keep me in the dark just like Dumbledore did last year! Who'll get killed this time because I'm stumbling around in the dark with Death Eaters chasing after me?"

Remus flinched—sharply—and Harry instantly felt ashamed, but frustration still churned hot and poisonous in his insides, and he couldn't muster the effort to apologize.

He just got up and walked out the door.

---

Changed circumstances with Harry notwithstanding, Snape was in full Potions Master mode. He stood in front of the class, arms folded across his chest, sneering down at them. "This 'Sealing Potion' can be applied to windows, doors, or any sort of entrance. Applied with the proper spells and wards, it can make a building virtually inpenetrable. It is a very volatile mixture. Take special care while preparing it. I don't want any accidents."

Harry sat on the stool, head down, barely paying attention. He'd refused to answer questions from Ron and Hermione as to why he was so upset. He fumed, aware that he was being completely irrational but too frustrated to care, as the conversation with Remus repeated itself in his mind. Like I'm a liability, not to be trusted! Like all the progress I've made in Occlumency is worthless!

"Harry!" Hermione sounded exasperated. "I've set out all the ingredients. Come on! We've got to get started."

Hermione read the instructions as Harry added the ingredients to the cauldron. He found it impossible to concentrate, and Hermione's repeated scoldings of "Slower, Harry, slower!" just served to infuriate him more.

Finally, as Hermione turned away for a moment, Harry picked up the next ingredient and dumped the entire contents of the vial into the mix. The cauldron erupted with a roar, white-hot flames shot towards the ceiling—and Hermione screamed as the back of her hair and her robe caught fire.

Snape whirled around, pulling out his wand in one motion and sending off two spells. The first extinguished the flames on Hermione. The second doused the fire roaring out of the cauldron. Moving across the room even as he aimed the spells, Snape reached her in a matter of seconds and lifted the mass of singed hair to look at her back.

"No burns. You are exceedingly lucky, Miss Granger. Perhaps this incident will teach you, if nothing else, never to turn your back on Potter."

Harry stood horrified. His eyes took in the melted cauldron, Hermione standing tearful and shaken, and Snape bearing down on him. It dimly struck him that this was still different from all the grudge-driven, retaliatory chewing-outs Snape had given him in the past. Now the professor was simply—and rightly—furious.

"Potter, your stupidity and carelessness have finally caused serious damage. One hundred points from Gryffindor! And I shall be discussing with the Headmaster the wisdom of allowing you to remain in this class. Now...clean up this mess!"

The rest of the students began to file out, as Harry attempted to gather up any salvageable materials. Hermione stopped him. Her voice was shaking. "Harry, your temper. You have got to learn to control it." He felt miserable, looking at her tear-streaked face and mass of burnt hair. Before he could reply, she whirled and hurried out the door, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

By the time Harry finished cleaning up the debris from the exploded cauldron and left class, Ron was waiting for him right outside the classroom door. He pounced on Harry with as much fury as Snape had, in his own way.

"Harry, you are one stupid git! There are enough people in hospital right now without you sending more there just because you are ticked off! And you are bloody lucky that you didn't seriously hurt her, or I'd be sending you there myself!" he bellowed.

Harry rocked back on his heels from the force of the words and managed to choke out, "Is she okay?"

"No, she's bloody not okay; she's completely shaken up, and I had to leave her to come tell you what I've wanted to tell you for awhile: bloody get it together, Potter, because I am sick of you taking out your temper on Hermione and me!" With that, Ron turned and stalked back down the corridor.

A noise from behind him made Harry glance around. Snape was standing in the classroom doorway. In an astonishingly mild voice, he remarked, "Hell appears to have frozen over; I believe I have just witnessed a blinding burst of wisdom from that boy."

Harry ran. He took the stairs two at a time and plowed through groups of first and second years, not really sure where he was trying to go until he found himself staggering, with aching legs, pounding heart, and burning lungs, back in the DADA Corridor. Driven by a desperation he couldn't begin to explain, he burst into the office without even knocking. Professor Lupin was already on his feet, leaning toward the door in surprise.

"Remus, I'm sorry! This morning…I'm so sorry."

Remus crossed the distance between them in a few quick strides and put an arm around him. "Harry, come over here—sit down. Harry, it's all right."

Harry put his head down on the arm of the chair, balling his fists as he tried to catch his breath and keep from losing it. It took several failed attempts at calming down before he could raise his head and look at Remus without breaking down. "Whew!" Remus let his breath out. "You had me scared there, Harry."

Harry gave a shaky laugh. Remus produced a cup of hot, sweet tea. Neither spoke while Harry drank it down. It did make him feel better. He tried again. "Remus, I'm really…"

Lupin interrupted him. "Don't, Harry. It's not necessary. I knew you wouldn't react well to what I had to tell you."

"No, I was completely wrong, and you were right not to tell me—"

"—And you know that now, that's all that matters." Remus said firmly. "I'm not angry."

Harry gave a sigh of relief, fighting against the emotions still tightening his throat. "Thanks. I was afraid that this time I'd really…"

Remus stopped him again. "Don't ever think that, Harry." He smiled. "After all, if I could deal with the temperaments of James and Sirius all those years, I'm well able to deal with yours."

Harry rubbed his stinging eyes, completely disgusted with himself. "I don't know why I keep…messing up this way," he muttered.

"Don't be ashamed," Remus told him. "You're holding up very well."

"Holding up well!" Harry exclaimed, looking up at him. "If you'd seen what I did to Hermione in Potions—I…I…I burned her, Remus! All because I was angry and—"

"You burned her deliberately?" Remus interrupted.

Harry shook his head distractedly, "Well, no, I wasn't trying to burn her, just mess up the Potion, it was so stupid!"

Remus's laugh startled him out of his agitation. "Yes, it was. But you didn't mean to hurt her, correct?" Harry shook his head. Remus put a hand on his shoulder. "Then calm down and forgive yourself. I somehow doubt she will hold a grudge."

Furious at the lump in his throat returning yet again, Harry muttered, "No, she just says I need to control my temper. Ron's the one who's ready to strangle me."

"Well, you did maim his girlfriend," Remus said, smiling gently. Harry groaned and buried his face in his arms.

"I hate this, Remus! I hate this! I want it all to stop, I wish I was dead!"

"Harry, no!" Remus knelt down next to his chair, catching his arm and forcing him to look at him. "Don't say that."

"It's my fault!" Harry cried. "Hermione's hair is half-burned off, Neville's gran is afraid to go out, and Percy's going to be arrested—"

"Harry, listen!" Remus insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders. Harry bit back the rest of his hysterical words and forced himself to sit still. Remus looked more haggard than ever. There was as much pain in his voice as there had been that night in the Department of Mysteries. But he seemed desperate to make Harry listen, so Harry did. "Listen to me. You are involved. No one can deny that. But being involved and being at fault are two very different things. It was to protect you that Percy Obliviated Cornelius Fudge. But you are not to blame. Would you blame Percy for failing to prevent Fudge from finding out about your possession in the Great Hall?"

"I…" Harry blinked. "No, of course not."

"Why not?" Remus asked.

"Because…" taking a deep breath, Harry said slowly, "because there's...nothing he could do about it."

Remus smiled and nodded. "Now do you understand? You're a sixteen-year-old wizard still in school being targeted by a madman for something that happened before you were born. You are not responsible in any way for protecting Neville's grandmother or Percy's career. What happened to Hermione…well, you are responsible for that, but you know what you must do to make sure it doesn't happen again, don't you?" Harry smiled weakly and got up, wandering to the window just for something to do. Remus came to stand beside him. "And don't worry about Percy. He's being taken care of."

"What'll happen to him? Ron and Ginny are really worried. Fudge could do worse than sack him."

"If the worst should happen, we will take him to Headquarters. He can lie low there. The time is coming soon when even an incompetent like Fudge will have to pay attention to the war rather than petty grievances." Harry had to laugh, and Remus put an arm around his shoulders.

Gratefully, Harry let himself lean against the werewolf, watching the stars come out. One in particular, brighter than the others to him at least, caught his eye and before he knew it, he asked, "Remus, do you ever look at…"

He felt Remus tense beside him, but then he chuckled. "I was just thinking the same thing. Yes, I look at the Dog Star quite often. It's rather hard to shake the superstitions you're raised with." Harry watched the star brighten as the sky darkened, and sighed, closing his eyes. "I know," Remus said softly. "I…I miss him too. Always."

Harry nodded, then slowly asked a question that had been nagging him for some time. "Did he…did Sirius ask you to…you know…"

"To look after you?" Remus finished. When Harry dared a glance at him, the werewolf was smiling sadly. "Many times. Long ago, in fact, Sirius first asked me before he became Secret Keeper to your parents—or at least when he let me believe he'd become Secret Keeper." Remus sighed, and looked much older than Harry knew him to be. "Then there were several times at Grimmauld Place." Suddenly he glanced at Harry, seeming a little apprehensive. "You realize, Sirius's incessant demand that I repeat the promise had nothing to do with any reluctance on my part."

Genuinely surprised, Harry blurted, "No, I never thought that!"

Remus swallowed hard and smiled. "Good. The reason was that you mean—meant more to Sirius than anything else in the universe. Even if he had known…what would happen at the Department of Mysteries, I know for a fact he would not hesitate to go after you again. That's why I don't want you to blame yourself for...his death. You shouldn't hate yourself for his loving you."

Harry swallowed thickly and said, "I've been having nightmares about him."

Remus tensed sharply. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Harry blinked and looked at him. "They're not visions, I mean…they can't be!"

Remus stepped away from him and leaned against the windowsill, breathing slowly again. "Yes, of course. But if you're having nightmares, perhaps talking would still help." He patted Harry's shoulder. "You've been so tired lately."

Walking closer to the window and watching the star, Harry sighed, "I've been dreaming about him since he died," Remus winced, "but it got worse after the Fortress of Shadows. I…you don't think Voldemort would just send me nightmares for the fun of it, do you?"

Remus snorted sourly, sounding like Snape. "He might. What are the…new nightmares?"

Harry swallowed hard. He hated thinking about them. "He's Snuffles. And they're torturing him." Remus's breath caught, and he abruptly straightened and hugged him. Harry cringed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you—"

"Don't apologize, Harry, not for that. You can…always talk to me about Sirius."

Harry nodded, which was hard to do considering how hard Remus was hugging him, but cringed inwardly. Talking about Sirius obviously hurt Remus a lot, and Harry didn't want to do that. He'd hurt Remus enough today. "Thanks," he finally said. Remus smiled and let him go. "Listen…whatever's happening…whatever the Order is planning…you'll be careful?"

Remus blinked at him, then smiled. "I will. I promise, Harry. As long as it's within my power, I'll never let you be left alone." Harry swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and smiled. "Off with you now."

"Good night." Harry gave him a little wave from the doorway before closing it behind him. He still had to deal with Ron, and Hermione and her singed hair, but after talking with Remus, he felt strong enough again.

---

Only seconds after the door closed behind Harry, a rustle from near the desk sent Remus spinning around, wand out. Severus Snape appeared from beneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak, smirking. "Good lord, Severus, don't do that! You'll give me a heart attack!" Snape merely smirked again. "How long have you been back?"

"I never left," Severus replied, draping the cloak over his arm. "And I'm infinitely grateful to you for confiscating this thing."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "And you say Harry has no regard for privacy."

"When I Floo'd here, I hardly expected that the boy would come barreling in five minutes later. There was no way out of the room without alerting him to my presence once he had closed the door."

Rolling his eyes, Remus turned back to the window. "After all your years as a spy, don't hand me a line that you can't sneak out of a classroom past a hysterical teenager while you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak."

"I was concerned that your attachment to Potter would lead you to say something unwise," Snape said from behind him.

"For God's sake! I don't pretend to be impartial where Harry's concerned, but grant that I'm not a fool. I'm not about to tell him about Sirius until we know for sure what's happened to him," Remus said, his guts twisting at the thought.

Snape tossd a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. "Headmaster! We are ready here."

Professor McGonagall poked her head through. "There's been a slight delay, gentlemen. Albus and I must get Percy Weasley settled."

"Oh dear," said Remus, heading closer. "It's happened, then?"

She nodded gravely. "Young Mr. Weasley is rather distressed, and we had a difficult time getting him from the Ministry building without attention."

"Is Fudge here looking for him?" asked Severus.

"Yes. As soon as the coast is clear, we will send Weasley to Headquarters."

"We'll sit tight, then," said Remus, leaning back against a desk.

Snape held up the Invisibility Cloak. "Perhaps this will be of use."

Minerva wrinkled her nose. "Possibly, given the Minister's current state of mind." She held out a hand, and Severus passed it to her.

"Take care of it. It's Harry's," Remus said before he could stop himself. Severus shot him a withering look, but Minerva nodded, smiling faintly.

"I thought as much, having seen James Potter and certain cohorts employing it once upon a time. We will see you shortly." She vanished.

Silence fell. Remus glanced at Severus and saw the scowl on his face. "Honestly, Severus, let it go."

The Potions Master's head jerked toward Remus. "Easy for you to say, werewolf. Always so easy for you to say."

Remus wandered over to the tank by his desk to watch the grindylow. James had loved the things. He'd kept one in a tank himself until he married Lily, then Sirius had taken it. What had ever happened to that grindylow? Remus had no idea; someone must have taken it away after Sirius went to Azkaban. "Harry's nothing like James at this age," he remarked.

"I know."

Well, well! He hadn't expected that—well, he knew Severus knew it, but hardly expected him to admit it. Carefully, Remus pushed a little further. "I know what kind of boys they were, Severus. I can't excuse the things they…the things we did." Snape shifted, but did not retort. "But he grew into a good man, you know that. The two of you never had the chance to work together, but you were on the same side."

"Stop it, Lupin, there's sap oozing off the walls. Yes, yes, we were, in the end. But even if I had ever managed to set aside my feelings about Potter, he would never have stopped thinking of me as the enemy."

"You're wrong," Remus said bluntly. Severus stared at him. Softening his stance a little, he said, "James learned a great deal from Lily. At Dumbledore's word, he would have trusted you."

Severus stared at him for a long moment, then recovered his trademark sneer. "Perhaps, but seeing as the man is dead, it's a moot point. And Black never grew up."

"He never had the chance to, did he?" The words were sad, but Remus smiled inwardly as they struck home. Quite an impact, that time with Harry had on you.

He could tell by the fact Severus did not launch into denials and justifications, but instead looked away, troubled thoughts running across his eyes. On the other hand, there were some things even Harry's company could not change. Unable to deny, Severus instead attempted a diversion. "And that does not concern you, Lupin? Putting the boy back in Black's less-than-wholesome influence?"

Remus shrugged. "Harry's sixteen. He's surrounded by less-than-wholesome influence—although I think you don't give Sirius enough credit. Whatever failings circumstance has left him with, he loves Harry more than life itself, as you've seen firsthand…twice."

Something glinted in Snape's eyes, and he curled his lip. "And as you say, the boy worships the dog. Are you prepared to return to second place in your cub's heart?"

Remus blinked at him, then laughed out loud. "You're doing it again, Severus."

"What, being a 'greasy git?'"

"No, you're getting your archenemies mixed up. Before it was Harry and James."

"I'm not confusing you with Potter," Snape said indignantly.

"No," Remus told him. "You're confusing me with Sirius. He's Harry's godfather; I've never been jealous of their relationship—well, a little perhaps, but not resentful."

Predictably, Snape snorted. Poor Severus, you cannot understand the worth of caring about the happiness of someone else, can you?

And Severus did not, for he remarked, "Perhaps you can convince yourself of that now, but you may find yourself singing a different tune when Black returns."

"Harry's happiness will never be cause for my resentment," Remus informed Severus calmly.

"Your selflessness is admirable, Lupin, but I doubt Black will be so obliging," Severus sneered.

Remus sighed, supposing it was too much to hope that Severus would ever break the habit of needling people for amusement. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said, even though he did.

In a sly drawl, the Potions Master remarked, "As you yourself admit, Black has never grown up. Will he be as accepting as you of your changed relationship with the boy?"

"As you overheard," Remus said curtly, "it was what he wanted."

"If he died. But if by some miracle he should return alive, I doubt it will escape him that it is now your shoulder Potter cries on."

"That's crass, Severus," Remus said, having no other real reply to offer. "And unimportant. Besides, this is not only about Harry."

"No?"

Remus turned to face him. "No. Sirius Black is my best friend left on this earth. I thought I had lost him. Now that I know it isn't so…I'm going after him. I'm getting him back. For Harry and for me."

He turned back to the window as silence fell once again.

"Somehow I doubt if a distraction from Albus will work twice," said Severus at last.

Remus let out his breath. "At least Harry's nightmares prove Sirius is still alive. But you're right about the distraction."

"When the headmaster arrives, we'll have to come up with something else, then."

Remus turned slowly to meet Severus Snape's eyes. "We?"

Severus's face was completely blank, stony. "Yes."

Remus could not think of anything to say then, which was just as well because he knew Severus would not care to hear any of the half-formed thoughts spinning around in his head. Instead, he went back to the window to seek out one point of light in an endless sky. It was dimmer now, hidden in the masking glow of the waning moon, but it was still there.

Still there.

He didn't care if Severus heard him.

"Hold on. I'm coming. We're coming."