Early Sunday evening, as he came down the stairs to depart for school, Harry considered that the house really did feel like it was equally his. The wholeness that realization brought him in view of departing for a time surprised him. This place would be there, waiting, part of him.

In the dining room, Snape asked, “Ready to go?”

Harry rechecked his book bag for his texts and nodded. He stepped into the hearth and ducked back into the room to take up a handful of the coarse powder Snape offered him.

The visiting Durmstrang students had returned—as well as the rest of the students—for Sunday dinner. Harry sat down with his friends. Everyone chatted vigorously about their activities.

“How did your holiday go?” Penelope asked Harry with shy interest.

“Oh, good,” Harry said, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable.

She seemed to sense his unease and turned to Frina with her next question.

“Don’t mind him,” Ron insisted to Penelope. “He had a rough break.”

“What, your picnic qualified as ‘rough’?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“I meant being stalked by Death Eaters,” Ron said.

“I told you about that?” Harry asked him in confusion, certain that Snape wouldn’t have said anything. Frina and Penelope turned at those words and listened with trepidation.

“After the second kamikaze, yes,” Ron replied, amused.

“Oh. Did I say anything else I didn’t mean to?” Harry asked.

Ron laughed. “I don’t know. Why wouldn’t you want us to know? No one else has seen those two.”

“No one else sees Death Eaters with their eyes closed,” Harry breathed very quietly to himself. When he fell silent in thought, Penelope gave him a sympathetic look.

Harry had studied only cursorily over Easter break, so when Greer asked him a question during the first Potions class, he didn’t know the answer, which was a first for months and a bad way to start the last term of his school years. Greer asked one of the Ravenclaws, who answered correctly. A moment later, Parkinson’s annoying laugh rang out. Harry glanced over to see Malfoy leaning over and whispering to her. Harry looked away and ignored them for the rest of the class, which was harder than usual. Malfoy seemed to be making more snide comments today, keeping the students around him entertained. Although Harry could not actually hear the content from the other side of the room, it was making him a bit annoyed, or maybe it was just that he had a few of the Hufflepuffs laughing.

Dean leaned over and elbowed Harry, he assumed to keep him from retorting and making more trouble. Harry gave him a weak smile and returned to his notes. Dean sighed and returned to his own notes. The sigh seemed too heartfelt for the current situation, making Harry wonder what was really bothering him.

More snickering brought Harry’s gaze up before he could stop himself. Malfoy sat smugly with his arms crossed, fingering the material of his uniform. Harry wondered if Pansy beside him was taking notes for both of them. He wished Greer would penalize them for the disruption they were causing, but the teacher didn’t seem to be noticing anything was amiss and pointing it out would certainly be a big mistake.

Hagrid had taken care of Harry’s and Penelope’s wombat over break, so after Potions Harry went down to the gamekeeper’s cabin to see if he should take possession of it. It was sleeping in a crate on the floor, still curled around Penelope’s cloak. Fawkes’ perch overlooked it and the two made for a brightly colored pair.

The wombat had not grown much and when he commented on that, Hagrid said, “It was done growin’ Harry. And in record time too. Yer musta given it everythin’ it needed.” It still looked small when Hagrid scooped it up with his large hand and gave it to him. “You can turn it in next class, ifn yer wan’. I’ll see that it’ll get sen’ to Australia an’ released.”

“I’ll have to talk to Penelope about that,” Harry said, accepting the cloak as well.

He carried the wombat up to the castle, hitched on his hip. It looked around in interest as he walked into the main doors and along the Entrance Hall. He had half-expected it to be alarmed after Hagrid’s small, quiet cabin, but it seemed a little curious about what everyone was doing. When he found Hermione, Ginny, and Penelope in the Great Hall, they jumped up to greet the wombat rather than him.

Returning to school did not help Harry’s dreams. The second night, he awoke with a start and required a long minute to feel oriented and safe in a different bed than he had slept in over holiday.

“Harry?” Ron said in a faint whisper.

Harry pulled the drapes aside quietly. “Yeah?”

Ron’s grey silhouette hovered beside his bed. “Need anything?”

“No.”

“Wanna go for a walk around the castle?”

“Maybe not,” Harry replied, although he could clearly remember their many walks before Voldemort was destroyed.

Ron’s outline moved away. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he whispered as he crawled back into his bed.

Harry lay awake for a while, grateful for his friend’s attempts at helping. He tried in vain to catch the threads of the shadows in his dream. They made less sense than they had in the past, moving counter to each other somehow rather than just coming at him. He thought maybe he should owl Tonks and try to explain somehow that his dreams made him think something was happening, without explaining everything. Thoughts of her made him grin in the darkness and relax enough to sleep, which he finally did, in time to feel mostly rested in the morning.

The next day, Harry and Penelope agreed to turn in their wombat. Hagrid accepted it with a grin and put it in a pen behind his cabin before starting the lecture on electric walking sticks—long insects that zapped painfully if you touched them. Hagrid had them in a box. As they all leaned in to look, little lightening bolts flickered between the camouflaged things. Harry stepped back to let others see. As he did so, he noticed Malfoy had his hand right on Parkinson’s bum as they stood waiting to take their turn at the crate. Malfoy gave Harry a sneering once-over at his expression. Surprised by this bold rudeness, Harry stepped around to the other side, closer to the pen where the wombat was rolling around holding its back foot as though to playfully attack it. Not the brightest animal, he thought.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape paired them up for a full practice session. “I have discovered that some of you are taking the liberty of dueling on your own time, which I will point out yet again is strictly against school rules. I have decided that it would be best to just get it out of your systems during class.”

Penelope and Hermione dueled first. They were ridiculously polite about it, with their low-power spells and long pauses between offense and defense. It was like watching a ping-pong match between two grandmothers. Opus and Neville went next. This was a little more interesting since both of them acted like they had something to prove. Neville lost, unfortunately, when his blasting curse was rebounded by some kind of flexible block Harry had never seen. Neville lost his balance and had to jump off the back of the platform to keep from falling on his head. Harry had not noticed until that moment, but Neville looked more athletic than he expected.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape said, inviting him up with a sweep of his fingers. “And…”

“Oh please, let it be me,” Malfoy murmured.

“Despite the interruption, why not?” Snape drawled, indicating he should come up.

Harry pulled out his wand and moved to the center of the platform. As they stood back to back, Harry said, “You going to cheat again?”

The other boy scoffed. “I don’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Good luck,” Harry sneered as the count started.

On ten they both issued blasting curses which they both managed to block. Harry was first with the next one, a Figuresempre which was blocked easily. Harry decided that Malfoy had been practicing since their last ‘draw’. Malfoy, grinning with almost disturbing pleasure, made Harry wait before he incanted a chain binding curse. Harry ducked under it and it wrapped up one of the wooden stands behind him with a loud clatter.

Malfoy was supposed to wait for Harry’s next one, but instead he cast at the same time Harry did and their curses met in the middle with a spectacular explosion of light. The other students ohed. Malfoy was faster than expected again, with a spell Harry did not know. In a panic he put up a Titan block since it was the first thing to pop into his head. When the strange spell hit, it jolted him to his knees and made him drop his wand when his hands stopped working right.

As he grabbed up his wand and tried quickly to aim back, he discovered Snape had stepped in the middle. “No permanently damaging curses, Mr. Malfoy,” he stated angrily.

In a bit of an overdone whine, Malfoy retorted, “It isn’t if he counters it.”

Harry got to his feet and shook his arms out, which were tingling painfully.

“Take your seat. Ten points from Slytherin for that, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape turned. He seemed to want to ask if Harry was all right, but held back. “A Chrysanthemum Block would have been a better option and generally is for an unknown attack,” he said factually, although it had a layer of something under it, something seeking to soothe, perhaps.

Harry took his seat, still rubbing his prickling arms. Malfoy glanced over and grinned as he saw that. Harry dropped his arms and pretended they didn’t hurt anymore as Ron and Dean were paired up on the platform.

More members of the Advanced D.A. were managing to achieve their Animagus forms. Hermione became an otter in the next session, to a long run of cheering. She actually came over and chewed on Harry’s shoe, when he stayed off to the side while everyone else gathered around. Harry laughed despite himself, especially when she changed back and ended up on all fours.

“Maybe I should stand up some before changing back,” she said, blushing fiercely.

“I’m glad I’m spared such embarrassment,” Harry opined.

She slapped him on the leg. “Not for long.”

Dean also managed his form late in the same session. He turned into a Moor pony. He turned back again quickly when the others began arguing over who got the first ride. Four students were now Animagi since Suze had attained her white mink form over holiday. In a buoyant mood, they broke up to return to their assignments for tomorrow.

On the way back from the Room of Requirement, the thing Harry had feared earlier did happen, but fortunately he was with Ron, Ginny, Dean and Hermione. As they passed a cupboard, voices could be heard talking low and sighing romantically.

Hermione, closest to the door, actually giggled, utterly surprising Harry. They all moved on as quickly as they could while remaining silent.

When they were out of range, Hermione said, “Boy, thought Malfoy was really attached to Parkinson.”

“He does seem to be,” Ginny commented.

“Why was he back there with someone else?” she asked, amused.

“How could you tell?” Ron asked doubtfully.

“I could hear them talking. Couldn’t you?”

“I wasn’t listening that closely,” Ron grumbled uncomfortably.

As they reached the stairs, Hermione said thoughtfully, “Sounded a bit like Eloise, actually, who I thought was going with Moon. Ah well, anyone dumb enough to trust him kind of gets exactly what they deserve.”

Harry was dreaming. Not a bad dream like he had been having, but a more pleasant one in which he was dancing in the Great Hall with Tonks, who was wearing a rather extravagant fuzzy yellow ball gown that flared wide around her. The hall was decorated similarly to the way it had been for the Tri-Wizard Tournament except that the walls themselves glittered. And through the tall windows the stars winked brightly rather than ominously.

Tonks smiled at him with equally bright eyes and laughed as they spun intermittently fast and slow. Harry pulled her close but in the dream he could not feel her the way he expected to. She leaned forward with a sly grin and kissed him softly, timidly. Harry did not understand why she was kissing him so when she had done it much more aggressively before. He reached out dream hands toward her to try to make things right, painfully aware that this was not right somehow.

A pleasant sigh snapped Harry awake. Lips were on his and the transition from dream to reality hard to distinguish. “Wha?” Harry said, grabbing the figure above him. He could feel narrow shoulders under his hands.

“Harry,” a familiar voice whispered.

Harry sat up and grabbed up his wand and used a Lumos Charm. The light revealed that the drapes around his bed were closed tight and that Ginny knelt on the bed beside him. She had a very crooked smile and bright eyes.

“What are you doing?” Harry demanded in a harsh whisper.

“You don’t have to be quiet—I used a Silencio on the drapes,” she said in a normal voice. She reached out a hand and touched his arm. “I wanted to see you,” she said quietly despite her previous assertion.

“Ah…” Harry said as he rubbed his hair back to think. “You shouldn’t be here,” he finally said.

“Why not?” she asked smartly. “The dormitory steps don’t keep girls out, even at night. Don’t you want me here?”

“I was sleeping. And…” he trailed off as her hand brushed his upper arm with tantalizing lightness. He grabbed her hand in his and held it away. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Her face had fallen when he had restrained her. Harry set the wand aside, still glowing, and sat up straighter. “Really, Ginny, Ron is just in the next bed,” he pointed out a little distressed. “What were you thinking?”

She frowned a bit and said, half to herself, “I see the way you look at her.”

“What way?” he asked.

“That way,” she said as though he were slow.

Harry became distant and thoughtful. “Do I really?” he asked a little eagerly.

With a grumbling huff, she tossed aside the drapes and departed. When Harry heard the dormitory door click closed, he breathed out in a deep sigh of relief, but he could not relax and it took forever to fall back to sleep.

The half-ruined stone cabin stood in the brunt of the unceasing wind from the sea. Whoever had built it was either an idiot or really wanted a view. A figure approached along a grassy path, wand waving occasionally before him to ward off protective alarms. He approached quietly enough that the occupant did not detect him until he stepped into view.

“You!”

A sweet smile then. “I have something I need from you.”

Slight relaxation accompanied this statement although the man continued eyeing the other suspiciously. “Take whatever you want,” he said with a gesture at the drooping roof of the cabin behind him. He then laughed a little maniacally at his own sarcasm.

“It is true you only have one thing left. And you really have no choice but to give it to me.”

The visitor fired a Binding Curse from his ready wand.

Harry stretched his neck as he stared at the glass sphere before him. A moment ago it had been an orange, so he was at least making progress. But any moment now it was going to switch back. He sighed. He was tired and not really in the mood to change things into other things. He had had a difficult time at breakfast pretending everything was normal, a much harder time than Ginny, who appeared to have forgotten what happened. His forced casualness had attracted his friends’ attention, although they had not pressed him to explain. Harry took off his glasses to rub his sore eyes. At some point he had fallen again into the mode of being tired all the time. Too easily, he thought, although people interrupting his sleep certainly did not help.

When he put his glasses back on, he found McGonagall observing him. He sniffed and returned to the next phase of the transfiguration which was to turn the air in the center of the sphere into smoke. Fortunately, even Hermione was having a tough time with this one. Her sphere kept cracking open when she attempted that stage. Today, since Harry was stalling, she was the one using up all the oranges at their table in a bid to get it right as fast as possible.

McGonagall eventually stepped around to them. “We can go over it again this evening, Mr. Potter, if need be,” she said in reference to his tutoring session.

“I really need to get this?” Harry asked.

She frowned. “It is commonly on the N.E.W.T., I’m afraid, since it tests all known forms of multi-transformation. A little hint to you: if they give you just the end points for the transfiguration rather than the steps, assume that the steps are applied in order of easiest to hardest, because that is typical of the test design.”

“Hm,” Hermione muttered sounding like she were committing that to memory. “Thank you, Professor.”

Harry, realizing that he could work on his spell again later, casually used the smoke transformation on his sphere out of boredom. It actually worked.

“Hey,” Hermione said brightly, “nicely done.” In a frowning voice she added, “So, what did you do?”

“If I could tell you, I would,” Harry commented. “I doubt I can repeat it.”

She set another orange before him, moving his smoky sphere gently to the side. “Do it quick while you still remember.”

Harry tried, but could not work it correctly again, even when he made himself pretend he didn’t care if it worked.

Harry left his friends studying in the library and took the long way around to the staircases, just for a chance to stretch his legs which were stiff from the hard chair he had been sitting in the last few hours. He was looking ahead to his tutoring session, so he was not paying too close attention to what was happening around him. As a result, when a figure burst out of a side corridor and looked around, it startled him more than he would have liked.

“Suze?” Harry asked in concern at the way she glanced around herself.

She relaxed a bit upon seeing him there, giving Harry the notion that she feared he might be someone else.

He stepped over to her. “What’s going on?” he asked.

She composed herself and surreptitiously glanced around behind him. “Nothing,” she replied. For a Slytherin it was a poor lie. She straightened her ponytail efficiently and started to walk away.

Harry, worried, said, “No, really,” as he reached out a hand to her shoulder to slow her down.

She jumped away from him and snarled, “Don’t touch me!”

Stunned silly, Harry jumped back himself and stared at her. “I didn’t—” he started, then stopped. “I’m sorry,” he managed, holding his hands to the side and a little back.

She turned again and walked away, but Harry followed. “Suze, what’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

She stopped at the bend where the sunlight tried valiantly to light the corridor through thick clouds. “Who do you think you are, my big brother?”

“Uh,” Harry said, feeling like he had missed part of the conversation. He knew she had no siblings, so he dove in as though he were following along. “If necessary,” he said.

Her shoulders fell as though admitting defeat. Harry knew that feeling well: the one where your strength leaves you because someone says that they will help. “I can take care of myself,” she insisted.

“If you won’t talk to me, you should talk to Professor Snape,” Harry insisted. “Whatever is wrong…”

She gave him a glance as though he were an idiot and strode away again. Harry let her go this time. As she disappeared down a short set of steps where the wings connected, someone stepped up beside Harry.

He turned as Malfoy, arms crossed, pert nose a little high, said, “Bit of a wench.”

Anger poured into Harry as heat in his veins. His hands balled into tight fists at his sides. Malfoy gave him a glance that said, what is your problem?

In a low voice, Harry threatened, “Don’t you ever…”

The blond boy scoffed and walked away, shaking his head. Harry reached into his robe and put his hand around his wand but left it there. So badly did he want to hit the other in the back with something jarring, something that would land him in the hospital wing or St. Mungo’s for a week. With a quiet growl he let go of his wand and went around the floor the other way to the main staircases.

Snape was in his office, grading as usual. His first glance at Harry seemed to tell him a lot. “What is it?” he asked, setting his quill down beside the stack of parchments.

Harry, too keyed up to sit, pushed the visitor’s chair out of the way of his pacing route. He knew he had to say this just the right way, but as he thought it over, he realized that he did not know anything for certain. He swore lightly in frustration.

“I do hope you don’t use that language around the other staff members,” Snape said with a touch of snide.

“Huh? Oh, no. I don’t.” He stopped and gestured with his hands as he said, “Look, I think there’s a problem with one of your students.” Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and Occluded his mind. If Suze did not want to say anything herself, he could not by rights give her away. “Are you keeping a close watch on Malfoy?” Harry asked.

“Not so much lately, I must admit,” Snape said. His intent gaze made Harry suspect he had noticed that Harry had closed his mind. “There are other, far more problematic students to watch over.”

Harry struggled for words. “I think he’s getting…aggressive, maybe is the word, with some of the female students.”

“That does not sound at all like Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said.

Harry thought back to the scene of minutes before. The events were coincidental, maybe?

“Whom are you protecting, by the way?” Snape asked.

His guardian’s bluntness surprised Harry enough that he almost dropped his Occlusion. Gathering himself together, he replied in frustration, “The person who should be here talking to you.”

Snape interlocked his fingers before himself and stared at them a long moment. “I will speak with him and a few others.” He paused before saying, “Do not do anything stupid yourself.”

“How did you know I was thinking that?”

Snape gave him a small smile and a raised brow in reply.

Harry noticed the clock. “I have to get to my Transfiguration tutoring,” he said in a rush.

Carrying his full backpack, because he had not made it to the tower to drop it off, Harry headed for the gargoyles. As the stairs turned upward, he rested his forehead against the center stone post that turned with him. He almost dropped his bag from surprise at the shadows moving in his mind.

The steps stopped at the top and McGonagall said, “Are you all right, Harry?” Her door was open as usual and she stood reading something before the bookcase near the doorway.

“I think so,” Harry said, hefting his heavy bag into the room by its straining straps.

“What was that just now?” she asked as he plopped into the visitor’s chair.

With a frown he replied, “I’ve been seeing more shadows lately.”

The book she held hit the desk with a slap. Almost accusingly, she said, “You are still seeing that green vision from before?”

With a reluctant frown, he replied, “Yes.”

“Does Severus know this?” she demanded.

“Yes.” She relaxed marginally, so he added, “I owled Tonks as well.” Although this was a bit of a lie, as he had only told the Auror he was having worrisome dreams. She had owled back saying they were very close to picking up at least one of the last two, but could not go into detail.

“Well, at least you are willing to tell someone you are in danger, unlike before.”

A little peeved, Harry said, “I’m a little better able to take care of myself now, Professor.”

“Nevertheless, it was Albus’ intent that this place be safe for you and it is mine as well. My staff and I will review and renew the spelling that was set up to protect you last year.”

Harry paused in pulling out his Transfiguration textbook. “The castle was spelled to protect me, specifically?” He felt a little touched by this notion, then thought more. “But it didn’t work. Voldemort just walked in.”

“Yes, well,” she sighed. “It should not have been that easy,” she stated offhandedly as she set an orange out on the desk. “He had inside help. And his powers were still growing, it seems.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Good thing he’s gone, then,” he said as he found the right chapter in his book and placed that on the desk as well.

She smiled lightly at him. “Yes. It means we may devote our full attention to attenuated multi-transformational charmed objects.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Harry agreed, trying to sound excited by that notion, but it came out as suffering instead.