Afterwards, Harry was not quite sure what had happened. One minute he was lying in a hospital bed, and the next he was floating along in a chair between his godfather and Mr. Weasley, covered with his invisibility cloak. Tonks, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were waiting in the Gryffindor common room, with Bill and Mrs. Weasley. Remus allowed Harry to be tucked onto a couch, propped up on several pillows, after he promised to eat something from the piles of snacks, sandwiches and goodies laid out on a table.

As soon as Remus had turned away, Harry found himself buried under the weight of Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley. All four women hugged him gently, repeatedly. Ron stood guard behind the couch, still looking rather pale; he handed Harry a Chocolate Frog between the girls’ hugs. When they had all settled down, and seated themselves, Harry sipped on pumpkin juice and tried to find an appetite. Remus sat on the arm of the couch at Harry’s head, and Hermione sat by his legs, with Ron on the other arm. Everyone was talking at once, which Harry was thankful for, as no one seemed to require much from him. Bill and Tonks told everyone about watching what happened from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where they where dueling with Death Eaters who had Apparated there.

“Just about the time we saw Fawkes swoop down, Hagrid appeared out of the forest. He saw You-know-who send that last curse at you, Harry, and went berserk. As he was plowing through a group of Death Eaters, Grawp came barreling out of the forest, and after that it was pretty one sided,” Bill finished with a chuckle.

“Where is Hagrid? He knows I’m okay, doesn’t he?” Harry asked anxiously, looking over his shoulder at Remus.

“Yes, Harry, he tiptoed in to see you in the hospital wing while you were sleeping,” Remus reassured him.

Molly Weasley had disappeared as Bill was speaking, and walked back into the common room with a tray holding a steaming bowl. She moved to the couch and set the tray across Harry’s leg.

“Here, Harry, dear. You need to eat something nourishing, so I made you a nice stew.” She stood there beaming at him until Harry picked up the spoon and took a bite. The stew was meaty and warm, and before he knew it, Harry had eaten half the bowl.

Hermione took the tray from him when he’d eaten as much as he could; Harry sat back and relaxed, listening to the conversation flowing around him fluidly. Bill and the Weasleys were headed back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place this afternoon, and Tonks would spend one last night in the girl’s dorms with Hermione and Ginny. The rest of the Hogwarts Auror squad would take up residency in the Shrieking Shack in the morning. Everyone else had already left, escorting Death Eaters to Azkaban Prison, or returning to the Ministry of Magic.

Harry settled back on his pillows with Hermione sitting against his leg, a reassuring hand on his knee. Ron was next to her, still perched on the arm of the chair, describing how Harry held Snape aloft by his ankle. Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, laughing, and Harry could feel Remus’ hand on the pillow at the top of his head. Content, his stomach now full, and his eyelids heavy, Harry dropped off to sleep.

“Harry.”

Sirius Black’s voice, deep and husky, wrapped itself around Harry’s mind, and Harry found himself back in the Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteries. He walked slowly towards the ancient archway with its tattered black veil at the end of the raised stone dais in the center of the room. He sat down next to it, on the stone surface.

“Hi, Sirius.”

“How are you, Harry? Have you already fought Voldemort?” Sirius sounded anxious.

“Yes, just. It was this morning at dawn, I went out with Snape.” Harry sighed heavily. “I survived Voldemort this morning, Sirius, but Snape will probably kill me now.”

“Why, Harry, what happened?”

Harry relayed to his godfather what had happened that morning, glossing over the Avada Kedavra curse that had hit him, and emphasizing the sight of Severus Snape hanging by his ankle in the Gryffindor common room. Sirius roared with laughter, even as Harry expressed concerns of his continued wellbeing, especially when studying Potions.

“Go ahead and laugh,” Harry said darkly. “He can’t poison you.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Nope, he sure can’t. Now, tell me again about the curse hitting you, Harry, and why exactly you aren’t dead?”

It was Harry’s turn to chuckle. “I was afraid you’d pick up on that. Voldemort didn’t like it when Fawkes showed up, and hit me with the Avada Kedavra curse as we flew up towards the tower. I do have some scorch marks on my shoulders and the back of my head, but no other injuries. Dumbledore thinks that the protection my mum gave me when she died is still protecting me.”

Sirius was silent for several heartbeats. “That is pretty amazing, Harry, but the power of love is very, very strong. It has been known to make miraculous things happen.”

“I think Dumbledore said something like that to me in June, when he told me about the Prophecy,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“I can imagine he did, Harry, as I am well aware of how deeply you love. It is one of the reasons you can still talk to me here.” The warmth of Sirius’ voice wrapped around Harry.

“Remus says you are haunting him. Is it really you, or just his nightmares?” Harry asked laughing.

“Maybe I should just let that be a mystery to you, Harry, to keep you honest. And you can tell Moony I said, well done!”

“I will, he’ll appreciate that. I think today was hard on him, Sirius.”

“He was watching and saw you get hit, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.”

“Ouch, that must have been bloody hard to watch, Harry! Let us hope that things settle down now for the school term, okay?”

“Yes, Sirius, I’ll do my best to be a good boy.”

Harry could still hear Sirius’ bark of a laugh in his mind, even as a hand on his forehead brought him awake. He opened his eyes slowly to see Remus leaning over him, hand still on his head. Harry smiled up at him sleepily.

“Harry, the Weasleys are getting ready to leave. I’m sorry to wake you, but I knew you’d want to say goodbye.”

Nodding, Harry moved to sit up, noticing that everyone had moved to the entrance of the common room, hugging one another. With Remus’ help, he stood up; to his surprise, his knees were a bit shaky.

“It’s to be expected, Harry, that being hit with a killing curse might weaken you a little!” Remus assured him ironically as he helped steady his godson with an arm around the shoulder. They slowly made their way around the side of the couch before they were noticed. Everyone came back to hug Harry and say goodbye, even Bill and Mr. Weasley.

The common room seemed unnaturally quiet after their departure. Remus settled Harry back on to the couch and Harry nestled into the pillows, his head still tender, and his scar achy. He was unsettled, restless even, but didn’t know why. Ron and Hermione hurried back in through the portrait hole, and Harry was glad to see them. Remus watched as they settled themselves next to Harry, and left them to look after the patient, going in search of Dumbledore.

“Alright, Harry?” Ron asked, still looking on the pale side.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered truthfully. “I’m not sure exactly how to feel.”

Hermione pinned him with a questioning gaze. “Because you escaped being killed by Voldemort again, or because Snape is going to kill you the first chance he gets?”

“Both, actually.” Harry grinned at her. “It is a bit weird to think that the greatest dark wizard of all time has hit me twice with a killing curse, and I’m still walking around. I hope no one else tries it!”

“I don’t know, Harry, not many others would even try it, after Voldemort failed. I think we ought to get hold of Rita Skeeter and let her write another article,” Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

“Forget Vo..Voldemort,” Ron stuttered the name with a shudder. “You need to concentrate on Snape, mate! When he hears what happened, you will be a dead man!”

Harry looked at his best friends; both were tired and pale, but grinning from ear to ear. He grinned back conspiratorially. “I wonder if there was a way to make out that I meant to pick him by the ankle, not that it was the only thing I had time to grab when Fawkes showed up.”

“I think Rita would write it anyway you told her to, Harry. Think of the money she could make from an exclusive interview.” There was a mischievous gleam in her big brown eyes. “Might as well be murdered as a legend, Harry!”

“I’m not sure anyone will believe the truth; bloody hell, who’d have thought he’d be wearing silk underpants, pink no less!” Ron said, and then lost it completely, rolling on the floor laughing.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and started laughing as well. It felt like it had been forever since they’d been able to laugh, and now they could not stop. Every time one of them slowed down, all it took was eye contact with one of the others and they were all lost in fresh gales of laughter again. Harry had a stitch in his side from laughing, but still could not stop; worries and concerns seemed to slide away with their laughter, at least briefly. Ginny walked in and looked at them in concern, but between the three of them, they got out enough for her to understand, and she was soon laughing just as hard.

Their laughter rang through Gryffindor Tower, and anyone passing outside might have questioned their sanity, Harry thought as he caught his breath, feeling wonderfully young again. He knew he had not laughed like that in a very long time, since before Sirius had died. Harry also knew that neither of his godfathers would think less of him for it. In fact, if Remus was within earshot, he was probably glad to hear their hilarity. With a feeling of wellbeing, Harry watched with a grin as his friends continued to succumb to fits of giggles.

That was how Remus found them when he returned to the common room, still hiccupping with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. He laughed just looking at them, their faces flushed red and eyes glowing.

“Now, that’s more like it! You lot have been awfully serious lately. It’s good to hear you laugh.” He smiled as he sat down on the arm of the couch. Ron still sat on the floor, Hermione was sprawled across Harry’s legs at the other end of the couch, and Ginny in a chair next to Ron.

Harry waggled his fingers, summoning a Chocolate Frog so that it skimmed Ron’s hair as it flew from the table.

“Hey!” Ron bellowed as he lunged for the frog, and Harry caught it smoothly. Ron turned toward the table, waved his hand, saying “Accio frog!” He almost fell over when a Chocolate Frog actually flew into his hand.

The rest of the afternoon past quickly, with the friends talking about the start of term and the other students arriving the next day. Remus was a silent, but reassuring presence as they discussed the classes that they would be taking, and Ginny bemoaned the fact that this was her O.W.L. year. They asked Remus about Rita Skeeter, sniggering as they did, and he promised to mention it to Dumbledore.

“I forgot to tell you, Remus, that Sirius says he is pleased that he is haunting your dreams!” Harry said with a grin, tilting his head up to look at him.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Did he really? And when did you have this conversation?”

“This afternoon when I fell asleep, just before everyone left,” Harry told him. “He laughed at me when I asked him about it!”

The portrait swung open and Albus Dumbledore appeared with Madam Pomfrey. Ron jumped up off the floor and brushed off the seat of his pants. The nurse was holding a goblet in her hand as she came bustling up to Harry, handing it to Hermione as she fussed over Harry. Remus stood and moved to the Headmaster, with whom he started a quiet conversation, no doubt telling him of Harry’s conversation with Sirius.

Without warning, excruciating pain exploded in Harry’s scar, and he went rigid with agony. The room faded around him, the black chasm opening as he lost consciousness, falling into the depths. He became aware that he was on his knees, retching, as the world spun and his stomach lurched again. Hands lifted him back up to the couch; he was aware that Remus held him in a tight grip, and the long, cool fingers of Albus Dumbledore soothed his forehead. Harry concentrated with all his might on the single thrilling note of Phoenix song that sounded in his mind.

“Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle, his fingers softly stroking Harry’s burning scar, calming him.

Harry could feel Hermione taking one of his fists and smoothing it between her hands, and he struggled to open his eyes. The room had stopped moving and Dumbledore was bending over him, sitting beside Harry on the edge of the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of Madame Pomfrey. Her hands were clasped to her face in horror and surprise, having never witnessed one of his “attacks”.

“Professor…he’s just found out…a wizard…Madame Pomfrey told him…” Harry took a breath, his scar still searing white-hot at regular intervals.

“Poppy?” Dumbledore looked towards the nurse, standing on the opposite side of the couch. “Have you told anyone about what happened to Harry today?”

Madame Pomfrey appeared stricken, visibly shaken. “I sent an owl to the top medi-wizard at the Ministry of Magic, Headmaster, asking for some advice on the best way to treat Harry, as no one has ever survived being hit with a killing curse.”

“It would seem that you have inadvertently sent that news to a Death Eater, Poppy. Well, at least that makes one more that we know about,” Dumbledore said grimly. “I am sure that Kingsley will know how to deal with the man.”

“He’s really, really angry…and knows he won’t be able to get to me here. But…” Harry took a deep breath, willing his churning stomach to calm. “I think he still believes that Snape, er, Professor Snape is dead.” Harry looked wildly at Dumbledore, a question in his eyes.

“Calm yourself, Harry, Severus is fine.” Dumbledore smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. “Well enough to ask exactly what happened, as I believe he has flashes of memory of the flight into Gryffindor Tower.”

Harry gulped, and the others laughed at the expression on his face.

Dumbledore smiled, drew his hand down Harry’s face, as if to feel for a fever, before removing it, and standing up. “I need to get down to dinner and speak to the teachers, but I will be back up later. Drink your potion, Harry, and I have food coming up for everyone.”

Harry eyed the blue potion in the goblet that had ended up set hastily on the table near the couch. “That wizard didn’t tell you what to put in the stuff I’ve been drinking, did he?” he asked the nurse.

“Oh no, Harry, that is a general restorative potion.” Pomfrey was horrified at the thought of deliberate mistreatment.

Harry obediently drank the potion and handed the goblet back to the nurse, and Dumbledore swept her from the room. Sitting up a little higher on the pillows, he gently tugged his hand free from Hermione’s grip, trying to work feeling back into his fingers. Hermione grinned at him sheepishly and tucked a blanket more firmly around him. Ginny climbed on the arm at the other end of the couch, as Remus resumed his seat by Harry, his hand lingering on the top of his head.

“Are you done being sick all over the place, Harry?” Ron asked as he used his wand to clear up the mess in the common room.

“Well, I hope so.” Harry grimaced, his scar still throbbing painfully.

“At least this time you threw up before dinner, Harry. No need to completely waste good food.”

Ron never saw the pillow that nailed him.