To anyone observing, they would have said it was utter chaos. And they would have been right.

But to Harry, he registered none of this as he stumbled and ran through the hellish landscape that used to be the front lawn of the school. He thought he heard several people call out to him as he stumbled past, but he didn't stop to answer. He just kept running.

A crowd of people Harry didn't recognize filled the ruined front hall of the school. Many of them were dressed in bright red robes, obviously Aurors. But many of them were not - probably other members of the Order.

Once again Harry rushed past them and up the stairs without even a backwards glance. In his dazed state of mind, they were nothing but faceless scenery in this surreal reality he suddenly found himself in.

Hallways rushed past him in a blur, and he finally found himself outside the doors of Hogwarts' infirmary. Again, he found himself surrounded by other people, all of them injured. Several other emergency medi-witches were hurrying about the hall - probably summoned to help when news of the attacks had leaked out. But he saw no sign of Madam Pomfrey or Dumbledore and his resurrected charge.

All the beds were filled with injured Aurors or other Order members. But no sign of Snape.

Where'd they take him? Harry wondered, frantically looking around the hall. He'd lost sight of Dumbledore when he'd reached the edge of what used to be the front doors of the school.

Not finding them anywhere, Harry ran back out into the corridor. They had to have taken Snape somewhere…

Suddenly out of the corner of his right eye, Harry saw a person step out into the hall further along down the corridor. It was a woman, and was noticeably favoring her right leg. Her tartan green robes were dirty and torn and-

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry cried and ran towards her.

The older witch looked up at him in surprise. "Mr. Potter, what are you-?"

"Where'd they take him?" Harry cried, cutting her off as he came to a stop in front of her. "He's not in the infirmary! I can't find him anywhere! Where'd Dumbledore-"

Harry happened to glance past McGonagall into the room she'd just come out of and caught sight of a blue robed figure leaning over another one laying motionless on a hospital cot. Beyond them, Harry saw Shacklebolt standing off to the side, keeping watch as Madam Pomfrey hurried around the room, chanting diagnostic spells and rummaging through a small store of healing potions.

"Professor!" Harry yelled and lunged for the door, but was stopped by McGonagall catching him across the waist with an arm that belied the strength of her old, battered frame. "Professor!" Harry cried, struggling against her. "What are you doing? Let me see him! I have to see him! Let me go!"

"I will do no such thing, Potter," McGonagall said, and pulled him back.

Her stern tone made him stop struggling and look at her.

McGonagall studied him for a moment, her pale grey eyes eyeing him with something Harry couldn't quite place. Finally she spoke, her face and tone softening. "I'd let you see Professor Snape, Harry, but Madam Pomfrey is examining him right now. He's in a great deal shock and needs to rest. He was badly…" she hesitated half a heartbeat and studied Harry again as if trying to decide how to put it, "…hurt. Let her see to him."

"But, Professor," Harry pleaded, "that's why I have to see him. I have to make sure he's okay." For reasons Harry couldn't explain, he felt tears beginning to prickle the corners of his eyes - maybe from stress of the last few hours or something else, Harry couldn't say.

McGonagall shook her head. "No, Harry. Not now."

Harry felt a jolt of anger go through him. He'd just saved his professor's life and she was refusing to let him see him. It wasn't her right to deny him. "I want to see Professor Snape," he said, anger now rising in his voice.

"Mr. Potter…" McGonagall warned, her voice once again stern.

Harry however wasn't intimidated. He probably would have gone toe to toe with his formidable Head of House if it wasn't for another person coming out of the room and into the conversation right at that moment.

"What's going on here?"

It was Dumbledore.

Harry turned to the older wizard almost frantically. "She won't let me see Professor Snape!" he said, anger and desperation warring with each other in his voice. "I want to see him and make sure he's alright but she won't let me."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment, much like McGonagall had done. "Harry…" he started.

Harry already knew what he was about to say - he could tell by his voice.

"Why won't you let me see him?" he exploded, unable to understand why they were doing this to him. Didn't they know he needed to see him? Didn't they understand he had to make sure Snape was really back? A presence in the back of his mind told him he really was, but for some reason he felt like he had to see him with his own eyes before he could actually believe.

"Mr. Potter…" There was a warning note in McGonagall's voice again.

Dumbledore however motioned to her that it was alright, and stepped towards his distraught student. There were tears in Harry's eyes as he looked up to meet Dumbledore's understanding blue ones - tears that held in them everything from anger and frustration to desperation and despair.

"Harry," he said, squeezing the boy's shoulder. "Professor Snape is very weak right now. He's needs peace and quiet. You can see him in a bit, but Madam Pomfrey needs to see him first. I promise I'll let you see him."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, unsure of what to do. He desperately wanted to see Snape - he had to make sure! - but he also trusted Dumbledore to keep his word.

Like coming out of some kind of dream, Harry felt all that evening's event slowly begin to blossom into full reality for him, frightening him with the undeniable truth of it all. Memories and images he'd repressed for the past few hours slowly began to break past the defenses his mind had constructed to save him from the horrifying reality of what he'd experienced.

He could remember with vivid clarity now the way Voldemort's eyes had seemed to glow in the moonlight as he'd laid there spelled and helpless at the Dark Lord's feet, being told that his Potions master was going to torture him to the very brink of death. He now remembered the fearsome hatred in the Dark Lord's eyes as he'd walked towards him with his wand held out in front of him, ready to incant the deadly Unforgivable that would end his life. He remembered the bright flash of green that had come half a second later, speeding towards him and coming so close he swore he could feel its icy chill on his skin… And then the sight of his Potion master laying there so still and lifeless at his feet…

A sudden sob broke from Harry's throat, the boy unable to hold back the horror and fear of the last few hours anymore. Another one quickly followed, and before Harry knew it he was sobbing into Dumbledore's chest, the old wizard his only anchor to the world in this storm of horrifying reality crashing down on him.

"Shh," Dumbledore soothed, holding his sobbing student close. "It's alright…" he whispered. "It's alright…"

Harry wordlessly shook his head against the Headmaster's chest, unable to find the words to answer. How could he make Dumbledore understand how close it'd been to not being alright? How close he'd come to losing the one he never would have thought meant so much to him? How could he make Dumbledore or anyone else understand just how much it'd hurt to have a piece of his soul ripped away like that? It had been so close… So very close… If he hadn't been able to pull Snape back…

He didn't want to even entertain the rest of that thought. It was too horrible to imagine.

Somewhere behind him, Harry heard people running towards them down the hall. Still ensconced in Dumbledore's comforting embrace, Harry turned his teary face towards the sound.

Lupin, Ron, Hermione, and Tonks - her hair a violent shade of blue - hurried towards them, accompanied by a great black dog at their heels. It took Harry a moment to recognize his godfather's Animagus form, and then another to realize why he was like that. He was still wanted by the Ministry and had to transform to chase Harry into the castle. A small jolt of fear went through Harry as he realized just how dangerous it was for his godfather to be there, or to have fought in battle.

As they came up to them, the dog hurried forward and nuzzled Harry's hand, whining softly.

"It's alright, Snuffles," Harry murmured, slowly extracting himself from Dumbledore's arms. "I'm okay…"

The dog however didn't look convinced and nudged Harry's hand again, worry evident in its big yellow eyes.

Harry smiled wanly despite the tears still in his eyes. "Really. I'm okay now," he said, and scratched behind the Animagus' ear.

Sirius whined softly and looked up at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded and gave one last look over his shoulder into the private infirmary room behind him. Harry tried to follow his gaze, but was stopped as the Headmaster took him by the shoulders and gently steered him away.

"Come," he said. "There's a room nearby we can use to talk where no one will interrupt us."

Harry wordlessly let himself be led away, suddenly too tired to put up any form of protest. He still wanted to see the professor, but he decided he could honor Dumbledore's request for now and wait, even if only for a little bit…

Dumbledore ushered them all into an empty room just down the hall from the Infirmary. Before he'd even shut the door and warded it behind them, Harry suddenly found himself back in the protective embrace of his godfather, who had transformed back into his human self.

"Merlin, Harry, I was so worried," he said, crushing Harry to him almost frantically. "Ron and Hermione managed to get away during the attack and fire-called the Order. But they said they didn't know what happened to you in the explosion. I was so worried…" His grip on Harry tightened, as if trying to physically assure himself his godson was really there, alive and well. "When they said Voldemort was attacking the castle and they didn't know where you were, I didn't know what to think…"

"Really, I'm fine," Harry insisted, and tried to give his godfather a reassuring smile as he pulled away. But the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Geez, Harry, what happened to you?" Ron asked, eyeing his friend's battered figure up and down. "It looks like You-Know-Who tried to use you as his personal hexing target."

Harry gave a hollow, mirthless laugh. "That's basically what he did…"

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the group as they all eyed the battered teenager. Bathed in the warm, flickering glow of candle light, Harry's injuries were now shockingly apparent. Shallow cuts and scrapes crisscrossed his entire face, creating a gruesome patchwork of torn flesh. Blood was caked along each individual cut, and smeared in some places by streaks of dirt and soot. His glasses were bent and sat crooked on his nose, giving him a bedraggled, off-kilter look. His school robes were dirty and torn, and hung from his body in tatters.

Everything about the boy seemed to exude exhaustion. Even his unruly black hair seemed beaten down by the night's events - laying against the sides of his head as if it no longer had the strength to stand up at the roots.

Tonks stepped forward and took out her wand. "I may not be a trained medi-witch, Harry, but I do know a few healing spells to help patch you up before Madam Pomfrey or someone else more qualified can see you," she said. "There were a lot of injured people in the attack, so all the medical personal are busy right now. We Aurors have to know some basic first aide spells in case of emergency though, so I should be able to clean you up a bit until then." Waving her wand over Harry's head, she incanted a series of spells.

Harry felt a wave of warmth ripple across his face, and the stinging pain he hadn't even been aware of until now disappear. He felt the blood and grime caking his skin also vanish.

"Thanks," he murmured when Tonks finally nodded her head in satisfaction and stepped away. He still felt unnaturally dirty and sore, but at least he wasn't bleeding anymore.

Running a hand through his matted hair, Harry tentatively looked up at Dumbledore. "Is…" he hesitantly mumbled, "is Professor Snape really alright?" he said, unable to keep himself from asking. He had to know. "Will he be okay?"

Everyone glanced at Dumbledore, tension and concern shadowing their own faces.

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. "He will," he said. "He is very disoriented and weak right now, but he will survive…"

Harry heard a murmur go through the room as everyone turned to stare at him again in reverenced awe.

McGonagall was the first to put voice to her stunned disbelief. "This is nothing short of a miracle, Albus," she said, her voice unnaturally shaky. "Harry just brought a person back from the dead. And though I do not regret Severus coming back, I have to know: how is this possible? Was Severus somehow not really dead? I thought he was hit by an Avada Kedavra Curse…"

Harry also looked up at Dumbledore, waiting for the wizard's reply. At the time of Snape's return, he hadn't cared how he managed to seemingly bring his teacher back from the dead - only that he had. But now, faced with the repercussions of what it meant if he actually did, Harry felt a jolt of unease go through him. Could he have actually brought someone back from the dead?

Dumbledore seemed to sense Harry's anxiety and met his searching gaze. "Let there be no mistake," he said, slowly sweeping his eyes from Harry around to encompass the entire group, "that Professor Snape was dead in every sense of the world. I saw the flash of the Killing Curse myself from all the way across the lawn. I saw him step into its path and give his life to save Harry. There is no way he could have survived that attack. We all saw the result of his sacrifice ourselves…"

"Then how is he still alive?" Sirius demanded. "No one can come back to life after a Killing Curse. It's impossible!"

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I know; it would be completely unbelievable if we didn't have our living, breathing Potions master back with us to prove it."

Sirius, as did everyone else, looked absolutely thunderstruck.

"How is this possible?" Lupin said, glancing at Harry as he valiantly tried to make sense of the miracle he'd witnessed. "How could Harry have brought him back? Did he possibly acquire some kind of power to do that through his connection to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore shook his head emphatically. "No. I don't believe Harry acquired any kind of new powers through Voldemort. The force that brought Severus back to life was not Dark in nature - in fact, it was the complete opposite - nor was it a power the Dark Lord possesses. Even though Voldemort has learned to unnaturally prolong his life, and has already cheated Death once, he does not have the power to reverse the effects of a Killing Curse on another living being.

"I believe, rather, that Harry was able to save our dear Professor Snape through the bond he shared with him last summer during his time as a spirit after his unfortunate encounter with a half-completed Killing Curse. Namely, the one that bound Severus to him as his Acolyte."

Dumbledore studied Harry closely, as if trying to peer into his very soul. "I believe the bond that Harry and Severus shared remained intact even after Harry returned to his body. That is why I believe you were so sensitive to visions concerning Professor Snape throughout the year, and why you fought so hard to help him like you did," he said, slowly meeting Harry's eyes. "That is how you knew Voldemort placed him under an Imperius Curse and forced him to do what he did tonight…"

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment, only slowly realizing what Dumbledore was trying to say.

"You knew the entire time…" he softly murmured, staring at Dumbledore with something akin to betrayal. "You knew Voldemort was controlling Snape this entire time, and you did nothing to help him..."

Harry didn't know how to feel. Dumbledore had known the entire year what Voldemort had been doing to Snape, and he'd done nothing to help him. All the torturing… All the fear and uncertainty… None of that had been necessary. Dumbledore could have stepping in at any point and helped Snape. But instead he'd just stood aside and left Snape to fend for himself.

Harry felt his reality slowly starting to crumble around him. How could Dumbledore have done that? How could he had let Voldemort do that to him? Didn't he even care?

Dumbledore sadly closed his eyes as if he already knew what his student was thinking. "I believed you from the first vision you had of Voldemort putting Severus under an Imperius Curse. Several facts you relayed to me from it matched the ones Shacklebolt gave me after the attack on Azkaban. I never doubted for a moment your visions weren't real."

"Then why didn't you help him?" Harry demanded, anger boiling up inside him. "Do you have any idea what I saw Voldemort do to the Professor over the year? You could have helped him at any time! I saw him get tortured at least once a week, and you didn't do anything to help him!" Harry was now shaking in his rage, glaring at the Headmaster as if Dumbledore had actually betrayed him.

Dumbledore hung his head in shame. "Harry, please understand that what I did was to protect Professor Snape. Every time Severus wasn't at meals or missed a day of class, I wanted nothing more than to go straight to him and stop all this. But if Voldemort had suspected I knew he was controlling Severus for even one moment, he would have killed him without a second thought. That was why I acted the way I did. I had to pretend like I didn't know what was going on so Voldemort wouldn't kill him. I even went so far as to leave myself vulnerable for attack by ignoring your warnings that Voldemort was going to use him to attack someone at Hogwarts, although I'd already suspected Voldemort was going to try and make a strike at me sooner or later. I know it seems cruel towards Professor Snape for not trying to help him sooner, but it was the only thing I could think of to save his life until we could find a way to break Voldemort's hold over him.

"When I tested Snape that first night he was placed under the Imperius, I truly could not detect the object you said you saw Voldemort use on him. I believed you even though I couldn't detect it, but because I couldn't know for sure what it was, I could not take the risk of trying to remove it or deactivate it. If I had, it could have alerted Voldemort that I knew, or worse yet, have killed Professor Snape…"

Dumbledore's eyes were filled with guilt, shining with repressed tears. "I had a suspicion the bond you shared with Professor Snape had survived after you told me about your first vision," he sorrowfully went on. "Because of my inability to help him, I thought perhaps through your Acolant bond you might somehow find a way to. That is why I really wanted you to take Occlumency Lessons with Professor Snape - to try and strengthen your bond and give you an opportunity to talk. But unfortunately, it seems something happened between you two that made Severus cease your lessons…"

Harry felt his face turn red, guilt welling up inside him like a poison. He still remembered the furious look on his Potion master's face when he'd pulled him back out of his Pensieve with vivid clarity…

Dumbledore however didn't seem to notice the boy's guilty face, and went on in an anguished tone. "Looking back on it all, I can't help but feel that there was something else I could have done. Several times throughout the year I noticed Severus acting strangely around me, almost as if he was trying to tell me something was wrong. But because of my own fears, I pretended like I didn't see anything… I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like for Severus. He had to have been fighting Voldemort's influence the entire year to try and reach out like that to someone else…"

"It was a stone," Harry suddenly murmured, staring at the floor.

Dumbledore and the others all looked at him.

"What?" the Headmaster asked.

Harry felt tears of anger stinging his eyes. It wasn't only Dumbledore that had reason to feel guilty for the Potion master's suffering. He was also to blame…

"Voldemort was controlling Snape with a stone," he murmured. "A couple times at the beginning of the year, when I was alone with the Professor I got this mental image of a black stone shard in my head. I think it was Snape trying to reach out to me for help. I think he was somehow using Legillimens to show me it. But it wasn't until right before he-" Harry fought to keep his voice breaking "-he stepped in front of that curse that I finally realized what he was trying to tell me. I did a cutting spell and got it out of his neck, but then…" He trailed off. Everyone already knew what had happened next.

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. "I suspected something like that. Especially after I saw the wound on the back of his neck. I also suspect that was why he was able to shield you from the curse the way he did- Voldemort no longer had control over him…"

A sudden silence filled the room, everyone quietly mulling that over in their head.

Harry felt nearly sick with everything Dumbledore had said. The entire year he could have helped Snape. If only he'd read the Potion master's warnings better… If he hadn't gotten himself kicked out of Occlumency lessons by looking in Snape's Pensieve, he might have even been able to figure it out sooner. He felt so stupid now he wanted to curse himself. This entire year Snape had been trying to tell him to remove the stone. But he'd been too stupid to understand until it was almost too late.

"What's going to happen now?" McGonagall asked. "With Severus I mean?"

"He will not be held responsible for anything he did while under Voldemort's Imperius," Dumbledore replied. "He was an innocent victim in all of this. It would be unfair to punish him for anything, especially after what he did for Harry…"

Harry felt eyes on him again, but could not bring himself to look up and meet them.

"Do you think," Tonks tentatively spoke up, "that Harry can use this new… power… of his on other people? - to bring them back from the dead like he did Snape, that is?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. I very much doubt that. The only reason I believe he was able to pull Severus back from beyond the Veil was because of their bond. Besides, Death is not something that should to be toyed with. We are not gods, and should not try to disrupt the natural order of the world. Death is part of the cycle of Life, and to disrupt it would only end in disaster. No, what happened here tonight was a miracle. But leave it at that. What you are proposing is something Lord Voldemort would think of doing. And as we all know, that is a path none of us want to follow him down."

Another stagnant silence filled the room.

Harry stood there silent, Dumbledore's words echoing through his ears. He couldn't help but feel part of the Headmaster's speech had been directed at him. After all, he'd been the one that had 'gone against the natural order of the world' and returned his Potion master to life. An icy chill ran down his spine. Dumbledore had said trying to cheat Death was something only Voldemort would try to do. But he'd also done that now. So did that make him the same as Voldemort?

No. Surely not, Harry told himself. What he'd done was nothing more than to save the life of a man who hadn't deserved to die in the first place.

But as Harry stood there thinking about what he'd done, he remembered the names and face others who hadn't deserved to die, but had despite all of Life's cruel unfairness.

Cedric Digory… All those Aurors and Order members who lost their life defending Hogwarts that night… His parents…

None of them had deserved to die. And yet they had.

Harry now realized what Dumbledore meant. If he had the ability, how could he bring one person back from beyond the Veil, and not another? Where would it end? Who would decide who deserved to live and who should remain dead? It would be a vicious cycle, one with no hope of ever ending.

Dumbledore's right… Harry suddenly realized, a heavy feeling settling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't his right to chose who came back and who didn't.

He was suddenly glad his powers were limited to only one individual. He didn't want that kind of power. No, he was glad he couldn't bring others back from the dead. But at the same time, he did not regret saving the man who'd sacrificed his life for him. He owed it to Snape to do what he did… And because of that, he had no regrets despite whatever Dumbledore said.

A soft tap at the door brought everyone back out of their trance.

Tentatively pushing the door open, Madam Pomfrey stuck her head into the room.

"Albus? I'm finished with Professor Snape now. He's stable and seems to be sleeping, but I would suggest someone else staying with him until I come back to check on him. I have to return to the main Infirmary to help with the other casualties. Shacklebolt is staying with the Professor right now, but he says he needs to leave to file a report back at the Ministry soon."

Dumbledore nodded his head. "Thank you, Poppy. Someone will be right there."

Madam Pomfrey dipped her head in acknowledgement and disappeared back out the door.

"I also have to go," Tonks said. "There's going to be hell about this back at the Ministry, and I can already see the paper work piling up on my desk. Give my regards to the Professor when he wakes up."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said and bowed the young Auror out.

McGonagall stepped forward. "Albus, this attack is going to cause a media feeding frenzy. Reporters are going to be here any minute if they aren't already pounding at the gates. And that's not even considering the students' parents! We're going to have to make an official statement soon andI don't know what we're going to tell them, especially after what happened to you the day before."

"Yes, I know," Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking every day as old as he was. "They will all have to be dealt with and in a way that will not insight panic."

"I can see to the owls, but I suggest you taking care of the reporters," McGonagall said, then solemnly added after a pause, "We're going to have to tell them You-Know-Who was behind this…"

"I know," Dumbledore sighed, and tiredly tugged his beard. "I will think of something to tell them. But for now, you see to the owls. I'm sure they've already begun to flood my office."

McGonagall nodded and looked like she was about to leave, but then turned back around and eyed Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"You three should return to your dormitories and rest," she said, her tone stern. "I'm not sure what you three were doing out of your dormitories anyway when the attack happened, but this is no place for children to be."

Ron and Hermione looked sheepish and obediently began moving towards the door.

Harry however stood his ground. "Uh, Professor…" he tentatively began. "If it's alright I'd like to stay with Professor Snape. I can sit with him until Madam Pomfrey or someone else comes to check on him. He saved my life. I feel I should at least make sure he's alright before I go back to my dorm."

Dumbledore's tired blue eyes twinkled with something Harry couldn't quite name as his lips curved into gentle smile. "I think the same can be said for you, Harry," he said, "for you also saved his life tonight. I believe you two can now consider yourselves even. But if that is what you really want to do, I am not apposed to you sitting with him until I return. In fact, it might be better if you remained in the Hospital wing until morning. I doubt you are in any state right now to deal with your Housemates, or answer the questions they are all probably dying to ask you. Better to let, perhaps, Hermione and Ron deal with them until you've gotten some rest…"

Harry nodded his head gratefully. "Thank you, Sir…"

"I'll come with you, Harry," Sirius said, his face unusually blank. "I don't think you should be alone right now."

Harry hesitated. "Are you sure that's safe, Sirius? What if someone sees you? Aren't you still on the run from the Ministry?"

"I'll be alright," Sirius said, and promptly transformed into his four-legged alter-ego.

"I'd stay with you too, Harry," Lupin said, "but I have to check on things back at Headquarters. We have to take role and see who survived the attack and who didn't."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Oh… yeah…" Because of Snape, he often found himself forgetting there were others that hadn't survived the attack.

Lupin nodded and slipped past McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione in the doorway.

"We'll see you later, Harry," Ron said, still being steadily ushered out the door by McGonagall. "We'll save a place for you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Get some sleep, Harry," Hermione said.

"Yeah…" Harry murmured as the door closed behind them, leaving him, Dumbledore, and Sirius alone in the room.

"Come," Dumbledore said, motioning for Harry to follow. "You must want to get cleaned up."

Harry wordlessly followed him down the hall back towards the Infirmary. Sirius followed them, the great black dog strangely subdued as he padded alongside his godson. They eventually came to another door which Dumbledore opened and then stepped aside to allow Harry inside.

"You will find a spare set of pajamas in the closet along with a small bath just through that door," the Headmaster explained. "Do not worry about being anywhere tomorrow morning. I can safely say there will not be any classes for the next several days after what happened tonight."

Harry mindlessly nodded and glanced around the room. It was small - no larger than an office - with little furniture. But it was clean, and had a large hospital bed on one side of the room along with a small end table. He could just make out a washroom through another door on the other side of the room.

"Thank you, Sir," he mumbled and began to go inside.

"Harry…?"

Harry paused and glanced back at the Headmaster. Dumbledore was staring at him from the doorway, his eyes dark and haunted.

"Sir?"

"The bond you share with Professor Snape," he began, his voice strangely hollow, "can you still feel it?"

Harry searched inside himself, and without needing much time to ponder, answered, "Yes. It's there. Only I can feel it stronger now than before."

Dumbledore nodded his head quietly, not saying a word.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" Harry asked.

"No. Just an old man's wandering thoughts," Dumbledore replied. He tried to smile, but the gesture failed to reach his eyes. "Sleep well," he murmured, and softly shut the door behind him.

Harry stared at the door for several minutes of empty silence. It was only when Sirius gave a sudden bark and motioned with his snout towards the washroom that Harry finally came back to himself.

"Alright, alright," Harry muttered. "I don't need a dog to tell me I smell."

Sirius gave an indignant bark and jumped up on the bed where he curled into a ball to wait for his godson as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Harry didn't know how long he stood under the shower's steaming hot jet of water, but by the time he finally emerged from the bathroom, the mirror was fogged up beyond use, his fingers were noticeably wrinkled, and he felt slightly more human. Dressed in spell-warmed pajamas and finally clean of all that night's activities, Harry felt fatigue like he'd never felt before begin to seep into the very marrow of his bones like lead. His body ached miserably, still throbbing in places from the numerous curses he'd suffered at the hands of Voldemort and being thrown from the castle inthe explosion. The thin mattresses of Madam Pomfrey's hospital cots had never looked so inviting. But Harry forced himself to ignore his hurts and exhaustion.

There was still someone he had to see.

"Come on, Sirius," he murmured and headed for the door.

Sirius whined softly, but obediently got up and followed his godson out the door.

The hallways were dark, the school finally quieting down from the attack. Harry stealthfully made his way to the third door on the left just down from the main doors of the Infirmary.

Nudging the door open, Harry peeked inside.

A still figure lay on the bed under several layers of blankets, his long black hair laying spread across the pillow in stark contrast to the ghostly white color of his skin.

Harry quietly opened the door and slipped inside. As he came up beside the bed and stared at its sleeping occupant, he had to marvel at the utter stillness of the man - how completely quiet and motionless he was. Like he was actually dead…

Harry quickly pushed that thought from his mind though, and sat in the chair next to Snape's bed, reassured by the gentle presence he felt somewhere deep in the middle of his chest like a tiny ball of warmth.

The Potion master didn't even stir as Harry sat in the creaky chair, lost in the deepest void of unconsciousness.

Shacklebolt, Harry noticed, was no where to be seen, probably having left some time ago after Madam Pomfrey finished examining Snape. Harry felt strangely grateful no one else was there to see him with Snape - except his godfather of course. He doubted Sirius was going to willingly let him out of his sight for a very long time after what happened that night…

For several minutes, Harry just sat there, staring at his unconscious Potions master. Though asleep, Harry detected several lines creasing the older man's face around his eyes and mouth, as if he were in some sort of pain.

His distress at his Potion master's pain must have shown on his face because he heard Sirius give a soft whimper and gently rest his head on his knee as if trying to offer him some kind of comfort in his canine form.

Harry mindless scratched the Animagus behind the ears, his eyes never moving from the unconscious man before him. And for several hours, Harry sat there, silently watching the gentle rise and fall of Snape's chest, reassured by every dip and swell that Snape was truly and honestly alive.