Harry had refused consistently all year when Ron and Hermione begged him to come along to Hogsmeade, so they seemed astonished when he finally agreed.

"Really? Why, that's wonderful, Harry!" Hermione cried, and he felt slightly chagrined when she actually hugged him. "I was so worried about you a few months ago when you wouldn't leave school at all. But this will be fantastic. It'll be just like old times."

Harry smiled amiably, but inwardly he was fluttering with nervousness. It was true he was finally ready to bear the scrutiny that came along with emerging in public, but it still made him feel anxious, knowing he would be doing so at the possible expense of his classmates' safety. And then there was the matter of his motivation for going there.

He was going to confront Tonks.

He'd been thinking about their talk the last several nights, and he'd come to what was hopefully not a conclusion born of wishful thinking: she had dumped him because she thought he was too immature. And if that was the reason, well… he wanted to talk to her, because even if he was too young for her now, who was to say what would happen in a year or two?

He loved her. And he couldn't imagine that just going away. If he just told her so, maybe she'd give it more thought before cutting him off for good.

Harry felt sick with nervousness the entire way to town. The first chance he had, he came up with a flimsy pretense and parted ways with them to "go speak to Professor Lupin" about his DADA grade. As soon as they were out of sight, he began to search for Tonks.

When he actually found her, though, his anxiety grew enough that he thought he might be sick on his robes. He caught her eye and nodded towards the alley running alongside Dervish and Banges. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and joined him just a few minutes after he left.

"Harry, what is it?" she asked, looking a bit uncomfortable herself.

Funny how he'd rehearsed everything he was going to say, but the words now seemed ridiculous.

"Er, I've been thinking…" Harry rubbed his hands on his robes nervously. "And, well, you see— I was thinking about why it couldn't possibly work. And I understand. I accept that. But…"

He fell silent, suddenly too nervous to speak. She raised a questioning eyebrow, and he steeled himself, and forged on.

"Well, I know I'm still at Hogwarts, and I know we can't really do anything for now. And I'm fine with that," he added quickly. "I respect your decision on this. But, er, I thought I should tell you… I really do like you. Or, uh, love you, I mean. I love you."

Surprise washed over her face. "Oh..."

Harry raked a hand through his hair, wishing it was lying flat. He couldn't imagine how ridiculous he seemed right now, stammering through a declaration of love with his hair pointing in all directions.

"See, the way I figured it, you might have thought I was too young, or too immature, or something, to really know what I was feeling. But, well, I do... I know what I'm feeling, I mean. And I really do feel it… I do love you. And even if you don't want anything to happen now, well… I didn't want to let this just end without telling you. And I figured telling you might be the mature thing to do, right? So…"

Harry floundered for a second, then shrugged. "That's all."

"Harry," Tonks said, pressing her fingers to her lips. "Look…" she rocked back on her heels, watching him with an odd smile. "It's really sweet of you to tell me that, and I appreciate it. But… I'm not sure you know just what you're saying."

"No!" Harry protested, feeling a little irritated now. "I do. And I've really thought about this. I'm not just… pulling this from nowhere. I've known for a while how I feel, but I didn't think you'd want to hear it. And I’m just saying this now because, well, I don't want things— what we have— to simply end without you knowing. With you thinking this was just… that this meant nothing to me. Because it didn't! It meant something." He stared at her, then admitted, "It meant everything. I love you."

Tonks studied him, her brow furrowed. "Harry, this sort of thing passes quickly when you're a teenager. I fell in and out of love every week when I was at Hogwarts." She gave a self-effacing laugh. "I know you think you might love me, but Merlin… you're only sixteen."

Harry grabbed her by the arm, frustrated. "Yeah, I know I'm sixteen alright? I get it! So by your reasoning, I can't possibly have any real feelings—"

Her eyes widened. "Harry, you know I don't think that—"

"Then what?" Harry cried. "I told I love you, and you told me I have no idea what I'm talking about!"

"I just think love is a big thing, Harry, and neither of us are in a situation where it would… well, when it would work"

"Then when would it?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" She waved her hand helplessly. "Maybe it would be different after you finished Hogwarts—"

"After I finish Hogwarts? Fine!" Harry leapt on the chance. "That's all I've been asking for! And what happens then, if I'm finally old enough, and I send you an owl saying everything I've said here? If I tell you again how I feel about you, and you see it's not just a passing fancy?"

Tonks smirked. "Nothing if you do it by owl."

This was too important for Harry to laugh at her quip. "If I come find you after Hogwarts… will you take me seriously then?"

She quirked a grin. "Sure, I will."

What?

Harry's gaze shot to hers, and she chuckled at his astonished expression. "Harry, I do like you… I like you a great deal. If you graduate, and you're still up for it, I'd be perfectly ready to meet for a few drinks… and whatever happens beyond that."

He stared at her. "Really?"

"Of course!" She trailed her fingers over the palm of his hand. "I'm not saying I think we should end this forever. If you graduate from Hogwarts, and we both still feel the same way… I don't see any reason why we shouldn't pick things up again."

Harry grasped her hand; it seemed suddenly too good to be true.

"Are you sure? You're— this really isn't… it's not the end?"

She shot him a coy look, and he realized that was exactly what she was saying. On impulse, he pulled her hand to his lips. "That's—-this is fantastic!"

Tonks laughed. "A kiss on the hand… Very medieval, Harry. And oh-so-smooth."

Harry felt his face heat up, suddenly self-conscious. He wondered if he should let go of her hand. "I'm not smooth at all."

"I know you aren't." Smiling, Tonks reached up and ran her finger lightly over his cheek, her eyes twinkling into his. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

He gazed at her adoringly as they started back towards the square. Even after Tonks tripped over a rock and he tripped over her, and she lay on the ground curled up with laughter, he simply stared up into the sky in wonder at the very real possibilities lying ahead of him.

And he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

* * *

"What's with you, mate?"

"Hmm?" Harry's thoughts were drawn back to the present, where his two best friends were smirking at him from across the table in the Hog's Head.

"You haven't said a word all lunch," Ron said through his mouthful of potato.

"And you've been smiling at the wall for the last hour," added Hermione, while Ron sent an exaggeratedly suspicious look at the aforementioned wall. The girl peered at Harry keenly. "I think you have something you'd like to tell us."

Harry shook his head in fierce denial, but he was still smiling.

"Well?" Hermione said briskly. "Let's have out with it."

"Come on, Harry. You know you can't lie to us," Ron said in a mock-stern voice. "We always know."

"It's nothing!" Harry protested, but he felt himself blushing. Oh, perfect!

"I bet he's been kissing some girl," Ron said with a snigger.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ron, must you always—" her expression changed when she caught Harry's flustered look, and her eyes widened. "Harry Potter! Have you been holding out on us?"

"I think he has," Ron supplied helpfully.

"Well? Let's hear about all about her, then!" Hermione drew her fork to her mouth, her eye sparkling in mirth. "Is she anyone we know?"

"Guys," Harry said, his cheeks burning, "Seriously, I don't have—"

"I'll take that as a yes," Hermione said smugly. "Is she a sixth year?"

Harry felt a prickle of irritation, especially when Ron said, "No, doesn't look like. See? He would have turned redder, I bet you."

"Guys, stop it!" Harry cried, terrified his friends were going to figure out everything just from how he reacted to their questions. He started to laugh, though. "I can't believe you think I'd actually be able to keep a secret from you." He ignored Ron's pointed look, and the way the redhead actually looked like he wanted to burst with what he wasn't saying. "I don't have any secret girlfriend."

"I believe him."

All three stiffened at Draco Malfoy's snide voice. He was standing several feet away, his arms crossed, a smirk plastered on his lips, with his two hulking bodyguards looming over his shoulders.

"The only girl who would look at Potty would be one as blind as he is."

Harry adjusted his glasses self-consciously. "Get lost, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked. "Make me."

"Ignore him," Hermione intoned from across the table. "He's not worth the bother, Harry."

"Oh, I don't know…" Ron whispered. He discretely opened his palm to show Harry the trinkets Fred and George had sent him earlier that week. Harry grinned wickedly upon spotting them.

"Care to follow up on your big mouth, Malfoy?" Harry said challengingly, thinking with glee of the tablets in Ron's hand. One needed only throw them at an opponent's feet, and for the next three minutes, the only thing their wand would do was spray silly string.

Draco looked surprised, but he cast a glance at Crabbe and Goyle, clearly not wanting to be shown up in front of them. "Fine. A Wizard's Duel. Behind the Three Broomsticks. Ten minutes."

He shot Harry a vicious look, then gestured curtly for his lackeys to follow him.

Hermione was scowling at Harry.

"Come on," Harry said. "It'll be funny."

"You shouldn't provoke him," she said in a chilly tone.

"Well, I'm going!" Ron announced, sliding from the booth and tossing his fare onto the table. "Hermione?"

She shook her head in a dignified manner. "I'll have no part in this."

Harry and Ron exchanged an exasperated look, but grins broke out on both their faces.

"Your loss."

* * *

Draco looked absolutely enraged when his Expelliarmus produced silly string that simply wouldn’t spouting from the end of his wand, and that's when Harry fired his Rictusempra. He was even more furious, doubled over, laughing uncontrollably on the ground, when Crabbe and Goyle's attempts to end the tickling hex merely produced silly string from their wands. The giggling Draco rolled helplessly into the pink sludge as he fought the invisible fingers.

Harry and Ron were doubled up with laughter. Harry was still wiping tears from his eyes when he took mercy on Draco and cancelled the tickling hex, and it was with delight that he saw the blonde Slytherin rise to his feet, shaking with rage, his expensive robes positively smeared in the pink goo.

"I'll kill you for this, Potter!" he bellowed.

His words made Harry and Ron just laugh harder, and it grew even more delightful when Draco scooped up a handful of silly string and tried throwing it at them. It drifted to the ground several feet short of the target.

"Crabbe, Goyle!" Draco cried, anguished.

The two hulking bodyguards drew forward. Harry sent Ron an uneasy look, feeling a bit threatened for the first time.

"How much longer do those things last?"

"They're about done," Ron noted scientifically. "But who cares about the duel? Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's wands all flew from their hands. Goyle and Crabbe's dropped somewhere beneath the pink sludge all over the ground, but Harry spotted Draco's bouncing off the distant wall. Draco, luckily, hadn't seen where it had disappeared to. He cast his gray eyes around frantically, then glared at Ron.

"I'll get you back for this, Weasley," he promised coldly. "And your brothers."

"Oh, I'm terrified," Ron shot back, still grinning.

His mirth evaporated, though, when all five boys heard the sound of screaming in the distance. Harry stiffened to alertness, raising his wand. A group of aurors rushed past, and Ron shouted at them, "What's going on?"

None of them deigned to answer, but an elderly witch hurried over to them from a nearby store.

"Word's been spreading that a group of Death Eaters apparated into the outskirts of town. You'd best find your teachers, dears." Her eyes fell upon Harry, and she sent him a sympathetic smile. "Especially you, young man."

Harry rubbed his scar self-consciously as she left. Ron turned to look accusingly at Draco, who was smirking at them.

"Terrified now, Weasley?" Draco asked smugly, as they were all fully aware Lucius Malfoy might be one of the attacking Death Eaters.

"You git! I bet you KNEW about this!" Ron screamed

Draco pursed his lips thoughtfully, his eyes glowing with delight. "Death Eaters… hmm… makes me wonder if they're here to kill some Mudbloods…" A cruel smile spread across his lips. "Say, where's Granger?"

Ron's face transformed with rage, and before Harry could stop him, he slammed Draco across the face with his fist.

"RON!" Harry cried, lancing forward and grabbing the enraged redhead, raising his wand to warn off Crabbe and Goyle, who looked like they were ready to pounce.

Draco Malfoy was rapidly scrambling to his feet, blood pouring from his nose.

"You're dead, Weasley," he rasped, his gray eyes wild with fury. "I'll kill you!"

Ron laughed. "Yeah, right, Malfoy. What'll you do? Stick your daddy on me?"

Draco glared from Ron to Harry, who was still wrestling Ron back. His expression grew chillier.

"Crabbe, Goyle, forget your wands. Find mine!"

Shit. Harry was determined to get them the hell out of here before Malfoy located his wand and made this even worse than it already was. He didn't want to be some idiot wasting his time fighting Draco while the aurors were battling the actual Death Eaters.

"Come on, Ron, let's get out of here," Harry hissed in his ear.

"How can you just back down? You know he's one of them, Harry!" Ron cried, pointing accusingly at Draco as Harry continued to corral him back. "He's probably in on the attack!"

"This. Is. Not. The. Time," Harry said firmly. "Now let's go!"

As rounded the corner, Harry cast a glance backwards. Draco was still scrabbling around for his wand; he and his bodyguards had evidently failed to spot it, lying by the distant wall, and they were digging through the ankle-deep silly string at their feet.

Well, so much the better, he thought as they scrambled down the street. No harm could come from keeping Malfoy too preoccupied—

A horrific sensation of cold swept over him.

He felt fear creeping up within him, and his grip remained locked on his friend. Harry's eyes sought Ron's, and he found his own terror reflected in the redhead's expression.

Dementors.

"Harry! Ron! Where have you been!"

Harry felt a wave of relief as Hermione ran up to them, her brown hair wild about her shoulders; she looked visibly worse for wear, and ran concerned, brown eyes over their bedraggled appearances.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked her, Draco seemingly forgotten.

"I'm fine, but Parvati was hit by a stray Reductor Curse," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "We need to get Harry to the center of the town; I overheard Shacklebolt saying something about securing a perimeter." Her voice lowered to a whisper, her eyes intent. "And I bet you feel that, too."

Both boys shuddered. They didn't need her to warn them that Dementors were nearby.

"Come on!" Ron said, grasping Harry's arm. He was a bit put-out to feel Hermione's hand slip around his other.

"Hey— what you doing?" Harry asked, looking at the secure hold his friends had on each limb. "I feel like I'm being marched to the guillotine or something."

"Harry, we all know how much they'd love to find you, here," Hermione replied tartly as they rounded the corner.

Their expressions were all strained; Harry could feel her hand trembling on his arm. The Dementors, wherever they were, were drawing closer.

Harry took another three steps before he realized they'd left Draco back there, still looking for his wand.

Death Eaters might be able to distinguish between their friends and foes, but he sincerely doubted a Dementor would pass up feasting on Draco or his cronies simply because he bore a resemblance to Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh, shit. Ron! Hermione!" He shook from their grip and pulled back. "We need to make sure Malfoy has his wand back. I bet he's the only one of those three who can cast a Patronus."

Ron stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you crazy? The Dementors could be there already!"

Harry's heart leapt in fear. "Then we have to go now!"

He whipped around and set off in a run back to where they'd been. Somewhere behind him, he heard Hermione saying breathlessly, "Harry's right, Ron…"

He'd seen where Draco's wand had fallen. All he had to do was point it out, and…

Harry's heart froze in his chest when he rounded the corner, spotting Crabbe and Goyle shivering back against the wall as one Dementor drew closer, Draco pale and stock-frozen in front of the ragged form of a second one.

For a long moment, Harry's fear threatened to drown him as horrible images assaulted his eyes.

… Sirius was falling back through the veil…

The Dementor was reaching out to take Draco into its grasp…

"Bow to death, Harry… it might even be painless…"

He forced himself to think of pleasant memories. Something wonderful.

Something… Tonks. The smile on her face when she told him it wasn't over. The hope that blossomed within him when he realized there was something good for him in his future…

He felt his heart swell with joy, and his voice was strong as it rang out, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The Patronus shot from his wand in a blinding flash, and the Dementors retreated before the charging stag. The overwhelming cold crept from the air as Crabbe and Goyle's terrified faces, numb with fear, slowly unfroze.

Draco had collapsed on the ground where the Dementor had cornered him. Feeling a niggling fear that he'd been too late, Harry drew a step closer to the fallen Malfoy.

A pale, pointed face shot up, the gray eye large and wild with fright. Draco looked absolutely ashen, and he stared at Harry sightlessly for a long moment before he seemed to understand just who had rescued him.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked gently.

"What are you playing at, Potter?" Draco demanded in a trembling voice.

"Just because we hate each other doesn't mean I'd leave you to a Dementor, Draco," Harry said softly. He spotted Draco's wand on the ground, summoned it, and tossed it back over to the other boy.

Draco stared up at him incredulously. His limbs trembled where he was crouched on the ground, and his hand shook as it wrapped around his wand. He swayed, and didn't look like he had the strength to stand.

"Here—" Harry offered, drawing closer.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Draco screamed, lurching to his feet and away from Harry's proffered hand. Harry let it drop to his side. "JUST STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, POTTER!"

Harry raised his hands in surrender. Draco stared at him with a mixture of anger and fear as he staggered drunkenly back several steps. Then, with no further adieu, he whipped around and ran. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a confounded glance before lumbering after him.

Harry shot a baffled look to Ron and Hermione, lurking several feet behind him.

Really, Draco could at least have—

Lost in thought, he didn't see them coming. But Hermione did.

"HARRY, NO!"

Her cry was drowned out by the a loud, splitting noise of an unknown curse filling the air. Harry whirled around just in time to see the bright orange streak the Death Eater sent his way before he was shoved bodily aside.

It slammed square into Hermione's chest.

"HERMIONE!"

He was vaguely aware of Ron's anguished cry as the redhead fired a curse back at the Death Eater. He didn't notice three other Death Eaters emerging from the shadows. He only saw Hermione crumple soundlessly to the ground, and Harry caught her as she fell.

"Hermione. HERMIONE!" he shouted, afraid to shake her limp form, horrified at her ashen face.

Oh, no. NO! Don't let her be dead! Don't let her be dead!—

He almost screamed in fury when he felt strong arms lock around him, hauling him up and away from her. Harry fought wildly against the grip, but he heard the familiar voice behind him, "It's just me, Harry."

It was Remus.

"Remus— Hermione— she's—" he choked, still fighting Remus's grip. Why was Remus dragging him back? He was taking him away from her! She was hurt, damn it, didn't Remus SEE that?

"Leave her! There are too many!" Remus yelled, and with a firm tug yanked Harry away. "We need to get you out of here!"

"HERMIONE!" Harry screamed, struggling against Remus's unyielding grasp. Curses streaked through the air about him, but he fought Remus. All he could register was that they were leaving her out there, where anyone could get her! They were leaving her to die!

He cried out in frustration when he couldn't throw off Remus's grip. The larger, older man ignored his struggles, and forced him inside Madame Puddifoot's, then to the floor behind the front counter, pinning Harry's body with his own and raising his wand towards the open doorway. Harry screamed at him.

"Let me up, LET ME UP! She's hurt!"

"There's nothing you can do for her, Harry," Remus said breathlessly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he kept his wand level. "One of the aurors will take care of her. STUPEFY! STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater fell just as he charged through the door. The one behind him dodged to the side, and Remus's curse just grazed him. He appeared again suddenly.

"REDUCTO!" The Death Eater bellowed, and the counter splintered over their heads.

Remus ducked, and Harry pried his own wand from between their bodies and stuck it between the shredded pieces of wood. "STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater crashed to the floor.

"Good shooting, Harry," Remus panted, patting him on the back.

Harry chose that moment to shove himself upright, but Remus grabbed the back of his neck and forced him back to the floor, hard.

"No… Remus—"

"You're not going anywhere!."

"They need me out there!" Harry rasped, thinking with sick horror of Hermione, lying on the ground with everyone fighting around her. She could be dying… dead… And he'd just left her there…

"They. Don't. Need. You," Remus said through gritted teeth. "You go out there, you'll just get yourself killed."

"I can help them…" Harry pleaded, shoving himself upright again. "I can save someone—"

Remus slammed him back down. "Or you can GET SOMEONE KILLED! Didn't you learn anything after Sirius?"

Harry caught his breath. He lay crushed beneath Remus, feeling as though the other man had just punched him in the stomach.

The sounds of the fighting continued to drift in from the doorway. Still panting, Remus slumped on top of him, his breath rasping harshly in Harry's ear. His grip eased up negligibly when he seemed to realize Harry was no longer fighting him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered in the younger man's ear. "I shouldn't have said that."

Harry felt frozen beneath him, like he'd turned to ice. Somewhere out there, Hermione was lying injured, possibly dead, and he felt like he'd suddenly lost all the strength in his body.

"I didn't mean that," Remus said gently. "I didn't mean to imply— Harry, I don't blame you for what happened to Sirius. I didn't mean it."

Oh, yes you did… Harry thought, feeling cold. You did, and you know it.

So… Remus thought he'd killed Sirius. It was probably a bit stupid of Harry, to not have realized earlier that was the reason Remus's smiles hadn't reached his eyes, why his affection seemed so strained. He, too, knew about Harry's responsibility in Sirius's death. And he didn't care about Harry any longer because of it.

He really should have expected it. Why hadn't he seen this coming?

Harry felt a dull sense of shame, and wished he could just sink into the floor beneath him.

Remus eased his weight from Harry, and settled behind the counter next to him. Harry eased himself upright with shaky arms and sat back on his heels, unable to bring himself to look at the other wizard.

"Harry…"

He felt Remus's gentle touch on his arm and stiffened.

"Please, Harry, I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Harry flinched back from that sad, terrible gaze, from Remus's touch, and circled his arms around his knees, his back pressed against the far side of the counter.

"Harry, I truly didn't," Remus pleaded softly. "You know that, don't you? I didn't mean it."

His heard thudded in his ears, but he nodded stiffly, sensing that Remus wouldn't let this drop until he did. He was aware of Remus's worried gaze lingering on him long after he forced a shaky smile and turned his eyes upwards to the ceiling.

A half-hour passed, as he crouched miserably in the shop with his lone sentinel, listening to the battle rage behind them. He pretended the words didn't bother him, and that Remus hadn't truly meant him, but the truth hung on the air between them like a toxin.

He knew in his heart that there was no more use pretending.