"Wake up, Jace! Wake up! It time to giddup!" a little voice sang loudly while bouncing up and down upon Jace's bed.

Harry, who was sleeping opposite his friend, cracked open an eye and saw a little blond moppet in a flower pinafore sitting next to Jace, practically yelling in his ear. Harry didn't think Jace could sleep through that, and he was right.

Jace sat up, rubbing his eyes and groaning, "Jilly! How many times have I told you not to wake me up, huh?"

"But lookit! Sun's out an' it morning," the two-year-old pointed out, one finger indicating the window next to his bed. "See? See?"

"Mmmhmm.  Wonderful.  Now why don't you go wake up Mum and Dad?" Jace suggested slyly.

"They's up. Now it your turn," Jilly said.

"Okay. I'm up."

She turned then and pointed to Harry, who quickly scrunched his eyes closed. "Who that?"

"My friend Harry. He got here last night, while you were sleeping."

"From kool?"

"Yeah, from school. Now shush, he's sleeping."

Jilly peered intently at Harry. "No, he not, Jace. He awake. I feel it here," she tapped her chest emphatically.

Jace sat up.  "Harry, are you awake?"

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes all the way. "I am now." He sat up, wondering how bad his hair was sticking up.

Jilly was grinning. "Told you!" she sang.  "I felt him, Jace! I felt him right here," she crowed, banging on her chest.

"What does she mean, she felt me?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Jilly, say hi to Harry." Jace ordered.

"'Kay. She slid down off Jace's bed, went over to Harry and climbed right up onto the bed and into his lap. She then threw her arms about the Boy-Who-Lived and hugged him, kissing his cheek as she did so.  "You are nice. Sad and hurt, but nice. I like you," she declared happily.

Harry blushed, he didn't know what to do, he had never had a small child cuddle him that way.  Matter of fact, he had never been cuddled this way by anyone he could remember.  At first, the unfamiliar weight of the child in his arms felt strange, but soon Harry relaxed and even began to enjoy the sensation of holding a warm, slightly sticky child in his lap. "Thanks.  My name's Harry."

"I Jilly," she tapped her chest for emphasis.

"Pleased to meet you, Jilly." He looked over at Jace who was looking like he was about to start having a giggle fit any minute.  "What does she mean, she felt me?"

"Jilly's not a reader like the rest of my family. She's got a rarer talent. She's an empath, that means she can sense other people's emotions.  She doesn't mean to but sometimes she forgets, please excuse her."

"You mean she can feel what I'm feeling?" Harry repeated, somewhat dazed.

"Yes," Jace said and at the same time Jilly answered, "Yup, I can. You is sad and upset and ‘fused. Why?"

"I'm what? ‘fused?" Harry looked at Jace blankly.

"She means confused," Jace explained, chuckling. 

"Oh."

Jilly peered up at him and Harry saw that she had eyes the same color as his own, a beautiful emerald green. "But why is you, Hawwy?"

"Well . . .I feel like that because . . .my . . .guardian is hurt badly and I'm . . .worried he might . . .not make it."

"That's the other man whose staying in the spare room, Jilly," Jace told her. "His name's Severus Snape. He's my potions teacher."

"I saw him. Mum showed me." Jilly said. She put a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Man sleepin'. He very sick."

"We know, imp." Her brother said.

She turned around and hugged Harry. "Don't be sad, Hawwy. Mum will make him better. You need to feel happy."

And suddenly Harry did feel happy. He felt a sudden surge of happiness and hope flowing through him as the little girl hugged him, and it was like nothing he had ever known before. He gasped and stared at the little girl, a smile of wonder and joy creeping over his face.

"Do you feel better?" she asked, her eyes shining.

"I do. I feel better than I have in . . .weeks."

"Jilly, did you project at him?" Jace asked, frowning.

The little girl squirmed and looked slightly guilty. "But Ja-a-ce . . .I just wanted to help. Hawwy feels better now."

Jace shook his head. "Jillian, you know you're not supposed to just project feelings at people."

"It's okay," Harry murmured. "She did make me feel better."

"I know. But . . .she has to learn she can't use her talent without permission. It's part of the Code."

"Are you mad at me, Jace?" Jilly asked, looking pitiful.

"No, just . . .don't do it without asking again, okay?"

"'Kay." Then she beamed her brilliant smile at Harry and he felt as if the sun had come down out of the sky and chased away all the shadows.

 At the same time he was concerned that he might taint this beautiful innocent child, and he was surprised the little girl hadn't sensed the evil within him, the taint of the dagger upon his soul. How was it that she could sense everything he felt and yet not that?

Perhaps she was too young to know what evil felt like.

Just then they heard Grace calling, "Jilly? Where did you get to?"

"Here, Ma! I waked up the boys!" her daughter answered.

"Jillian, you didn't!" her exasperated mother appeared in the doorway. "I told you to let them sleep."

"But Mummy, it morning time. That when you get up!" the child pointed out with merciless logic.

Grace just shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Harry. I had intended for you to have a bit of a lie in, but my scamp of a child had other ideas."

"I'm hungwy, Mummy," Jilly announced. "Can we eat now?"

"Yes, go and see what your dad's cooking.  Maybe he needs your help."

Jilly jumped down from Harry's lap and ran out of the room, calling, "Dad, I is cummin' to help!"

"Thanks, Mum. I was wondering how we were going to get rid of the little pest." Jace said.

"Harry, if you're still tired, you can go back to sleep."

"No, ma'am. I'm fine. I'm used to getting up early. I'm a morning person." Harry said truthfully.  He was also afraid to go back to sleep, lest he dream about what had happened.  It was better to be awake and start getting the ingredients for the potion.

"Very well then. Come in for breakfast once you're ready." Then she left and shut the door behind her.

Harry quickly rummaged through his pack and found a clean shirt and jeans.  As he dressed, he remembered something he had wanted to ask Jace last night, but had been too tired to start a conversation then.  "Jace, that reader trick you and your dad and Tristan did with the werewolves . . .why didn't you use it on Malfoy when he was busting on you?"

Jace pulled on his sneakers before replying. "Because the only time a reader is allowed to mess with another person's mind that way is if you're in danger of losing your life.  Altering a person's perception like that is forbidden according to the Reader Codes. It's considered unethical."

"Oh.  Those Codes sound like they're really strict."

"They are.  But they have to be, ‘cause a couple of centuries ago, readers were feared and hated. We had a few that misused their talent badly, and that made other wizards not trust us.  The worst of them used mind control to turn people into their slaves, worse than a bonded house elf, because the only way to break the bond was to kill the reader or the servant, or the reader agreed to release the person.  And those never would release their servants. They held groups of people in thrall to them and could use their mind powers to charm their way out of arrest. They called themselves the Mind Lords.  It took a group of readers to finally bring them down and after that we established our own Codes so renegades wouldn't be able to do stuff like that again. And so we wouldn't have to worry about being labeled as Spy Eyes and Mind Rapers. All readers swear to abide by the Codes when their talent emerges fully, and that's why we never read another's mind without permission. Unless we're little and don't know any better or can't control ourselves.  That's why a lot of us readers tend to live in small communities. Like this one."

"How many readers are there?"

"Here, in the Forest-on-the-Moor? Six families live here, it's quiet and everyone around here knows how to shield their thoughts and it's far away from any city, which is a real blessing.  Readers don't like crowds or a lot of people.  It really taxes our shields and gives us a headache."

"Did you have one at school?"

"First week I did, till Professor Snape gave me a Headache Remedy and taught me how to layer my mindshields." Jace bit his lip, suddenly looking less like a wise wizard and more like a twelve year old boy.  "I really hope he pulls through, Harry. He's like one of my favorite teachers."

"Me too.  If I can manage to brew the potion and find the dagger . . ."

"But didn't whoever stabbed Professor Snape take the dagger with him?"

"Yes, but then he dropped it when he . . .ran and my owl hid it somewhere, just before the werewolves came," Harry said, careful to speak no word that was not true. 

Jace nodded, sensing that Harry felt very uncomfortable about this topic. Clearly there was more than he was saying, something that he was keeping back, but Jace respected his friend's privacy and did not pry. Harry was very upset and Jace didn't want him to feel worse. It must be terrible for the orphaned teen to contemplate losing another whom he was close to.

"Well, why don't we eat breakfast and then maybe I can help you gather ingredients."

"You won't mind then?" Harry asked, surprised. Ron would have sooner shaved himself bald then offered to help make a potion.

"No. I like potions, unlike most wizard kids." Jace said, then he led the way into the kitchen, which was next to the den.

The most mouth-watering smells were coming from the kitchen, as Jasper flipped sausage patties and made something Grace called an omelet pastie, which was scrambled eggs, cheese, shredded potatoes and fried onions inside of a fried pastry crust.

They practically melted in Harry's mouth, and when asked how he liked them, replied, "This is like the most incredible breakfast I ever had. How do you make them?"

"Ah, an apprentice after my own heart," Jasper laughed. "So you like to cook, Harry?"

"Yes. I always cooked at home."

"I'll give you the recipe. I made them kind of as a mistake . . ." Jasper went on to tell Harry about running out of ground beef and substituting it with eggs instead and thus the omelet pastie was born.

"That's the best mistake you ever made, Dad," his son said.

"Mmm!" agreed his daughter, crumbs all over her front and some cheese on her face.

Grace waved her wand and the crumbs vanished and so did the melted cheese. She then encouraged Harry to eat more.

Harry did, thinking how Grace reminded him a bit of Molly Weasley. Did all mothers worry about kids' eating habits?

"Harry, that list of ingredients you need from Professor Snape's lab," Grace began after he had eaten his third pastie and sausage.  "I know you can Floo into Hogwarts and get them yourself, but Jasper said there were werewolves and Death Eaters hunting you."

"Yes, but Mr. Witherspoon, Jace, and Tristan drove them off."

"Jasper, please.  We did misdirect them for a time, and they won't be able to track you because we Apparated, but they could still be searching for you regardless and one of the first places they might go is the school. That was where you and Severus were headed, right?"

"Yes."

"We figured it might be best if one of us went and got the ingredients from the potions lab," Grace said. "You can stay here where it's safe, our wards are first class, and start preparing the rest of the ingredients you'll need. Are there wards on Professor Snape's lab?"

"Yes, but I know the password," Harry said. "All of his potions ingredients are labeled in alphabetical order."

"Thank goodness, because trying to find ingredients in the lab of a disorganized Potions Master is hell," Jasper remarked, wiping his face with a cloth.

Harry would have protested needing any help a few months ago and insisted on going himself, but over the course of this quest he had come to realize that he shouldn't have to do everything himself and he could ask for help when he needed it.  It was nice to have some adults he could depend on and Grace and Jasper seemed trustworthy individuals, like their son.

"So, which of us shall go back to Hogwarts, dear?"

Jasper smirked and said, "You seem to need more remedial lessons than I do, Grace, so you should go. Plus, you know your way around a potions lab better than I do."

"All right, then you get to mind Jilly and finish my article for the British Readers Institute.  They want to apply for a grant to the Ministry to set up some classes for younger readers who weren't born into a family with the talent."

"You mean, you don't have to have a parent who's a reader?" Harry asked.

"Not always. Most of us do, though, since the talent seems to be passed on easier that way. But I've met a few readers who, like Muggleborns, have parents who have no mind talent at all." Jasper said.

"And that's really hard on a child when their talent first starts to emerge. A fledgling reader can go crazy from hearing everyone's thoughts unless they develop natural shields or have a tutor to show them how to create mind shields." Grace said, her face serious. "So I hope the Ministry agrees to fund the Institute."

"I'll do my best to convince them, luv," Jasper promised.

Harry hoped so too, though given the Ministry's record so far . . .he didn't hold out much hope.

Once they were done with breakfast, Harry showed Jace the list of ingredients and the boy went down to the potions storeroom in the basement to find them while Harry went and checked up on Severus.

The Potions Master was still under the cloak's enchantment, looking peaceful and rather like a wax effigy in repose. Harry went to stand near the bed, not touching the older wizard, simply looking down on him.  Remorse and regret nearly throttled him.

Oh, Sev. I've apologized about a million times to you in my mind, but I would give everything I own to just have you hear me say it aloud. I don't know how this happened, except that maybe I was weak and stupid, but even so it doesn't excuse what I did. I know that. And I'm going to make amends. Grace said I was a good apprentice . . .but she doesn't know the truth.  But somehow, I'll make you well. I didn't come this far to fail now and it's only right that I fix what I did to you.  I'll make you proud of me, Sev, and show you that I'm your true potions apprentice.

He coughed and wiped a hand across his eyes, irritated at the way he seemed to be shedding tears at the drop of a hat all of a sudden. He never used to cry before.  Then again, he had never almost killed the man he regarded as a surrogate father either. So he could allow these brief moments of weeping . . .as long as he was alone where no one could see.

He started when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Harry? I'm sorry, but I need that list of ingredients," Grace said softly.

"Right." He fumbled in his pocket and handed it to her. "I've underlined the ones he has in his lab in red. He told me to do that, just in case . . ."

"Something should happen?"

Harry nodded mutely.

Grace's heart went out to the distraught youngster, whose pain and guilt was so evident she could see it even without her talent.  "It wasn't your fault, Harry."

"It was," he whispered.  "I'm the reason he's hurt."

"No.  The dagger is to blame. Not you."

"How do you know that?"

"because I have done studies on the major cursed objects in our world and the Dagger of Discord is number one on the list of most evil and subversive objects. I'm sure Severus knew that. Whatever you've done, child, I'm sure it is not unforgivable."

"You're wrong."

"And do you think you are the only apprentice to make a mistake? Ask Severus that question when he wakes."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"No.  I don't need to. Your guilt and shame and pain are there in your eyes for those who know how to look." Then, because he aroused her mothering instincts and because he looked so lost and hurting, like a broken-winged fledgling, she wrapped her arms about him and held him close.

Harry stiffened at first, but the feel of her arms and her scent, like lilacs, felt so good that he relaxed and allowed himself to be held, for the first time in a long time. And if a few more tears escaped from his wayward eyes, neither of them noticed.

A moment later, Grace released him, then said, "I shall be back as quickly as I can. Will you need my help brewing?"

"I . . .no offense, but this is something I need to do on my own," Harry told her quietly. "For him and for me."

"I understand." She said, thinking that his brewing the potion was like a kind of redemption for him, a way to remove the haunted look from his eyes forever. "Best I get started. Soonest gone is soonest returned."

As she turned about, she almost bumped into her husband. "Grace, I was wondering if you had your Amulet of Communication on? Just in case you needed help, you could call me, since your mind voice won't reach me at such a distance."

"I have it, Jasper," she removed a similar silver chain with another teardrop-shaped red jasper stone on it from underneath her shirt.

"Good. Then I can relax. Well, as much as I ever can with our whirlwind baby girl."

"Give her a colouring book and some of those sparkle crayons and she'll be happy for an hour," Grace suggested.  Then she kissed him lightly and Flooed off to Hogwarts. 

Harry looked curiously at the pendant about Jasper's neck. "Jace told me you invented that amulet."

"I did. Inventing it was one of the best things I've ever done, it's how I met Grace. I came up with the idea of using my talent to enable people without a reader's gift to speak with each other silently and instantaneously, but it was Grace who helped me make that idea into reality with her gift of enchantment. She's an amazing woman, my wife."

"How come more people don't have one then? It seems like it'd work so much faster than posting a letter."

"Ah, well, you see, the amulets are expensive to make and even though I am the clear inventor of them, my patent is still pending with the Ministry. Bloody bureaucrats love to tie everything up. But we've sold a few to our friends here and to other wizards in London and so forth. Each amulet is paired with another of the same size, shape, and stone. When an amulet is activated, it links first to its pairmate and then can be keyed to another's amulet if you want. Kind of like a Muggle phone number."

"You know about phone numbers?"

"Ah, I take it Jace never mentioned I was a half-blood?" Jasper chuckled. "I'm familiar with Muggle culture, Harry. And now, I believe I need to find my child and start writing the rest of that grant."

"Good luck, sir."

"Jasper, Harry, Jasper. Sir is for my grandfather, not me." He walked down the hall and Harry went downstairs into the basement to see how Jace was making out.

He found the younger boy had gathered all of the more common ingredients, like vinegar, cockroach carapaces, rowan bark, and ground unicorn horn and placed them upon the workstation.  The basement was neat and clean and smelled of earth, since it had been hollowed out by magic and sealed with a spell to prevent moisture and bugs from getting in.  There were slate flagstones in the floor and a long low table with a rack for vials and tubes and stirrers on it, as well as knives, and several marble and wooden mortars and pestles. Cauldrons of all sizes and materials were stacked neatly against the far wall and there were several shelves of potion ingredients in jars and bags and a large apothecary box containing more ingredients as well. There was also a sink and a stack of cloths, aprons, and goggles upon the counter.

The room was lit with several hanging lamps, such that anyone working down here would be able to see without a problem. There was a strong smell of herbs in the air, but it was not unpleasant.  Harry immediately felt comfortable here, the way he did in Severus's private lab back at school. 

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Hey, Jace. How's it going?"

"Fine, Harry. I've almost gotten everything," the other answered cheerfully. "This looks like a really complex potion though."

"It is, but I've brewed it before." Harry said, though he had only done so under Snape's eagle eye.  Never by yourself and never with such need, a small doubting voice taunted in the back of his mind.  Now he was sorry he had not paid closer attention back in the Forest of the Night when Severus was showing him how to harvest the ingredients, instead of looking at Meadowsweet.  Someday I might not be there and you'll need to learn how to brew this on your own, Severus's silky voice haunted him.  How did you know, Sev? Do you have a bit of the Sight too, or was this just another of your "always be prepared" speeches?

Either way it did not matter. Harry knew he was the only one who could brew the potion with any degree of accuracy and he had to do so promptly, before Voldemort was resurrected by the Death Eaters. For that was their main goal, to bring back their dark master, and they would stop at nothing to accomplish it. I will not fail, I must not. I will do this and prove that I'm worthy of being Sev's potions apprentice. He believed Harry had inherited Lily's gift for potions. Now Harry would put that belief to the test.

He breathed in and out several times, centering himself, the way he did when he meditated, or used Occlumency.  When he was certain he was calm and focused, he began to re-read the recipe and start preparing all the ingredients Jace had gathered, measuring and chopping and grinding.  Jace watched, recognizing that Harry needed his own space and would not wish help right now, and so he did not offer any, but remained observing off to the side silently. He was impressed with the deft way Harry handled the ingredients and the precision he displayed in grinding and chopping them finely.  It took much patience and concentration to correctly prepare these ingredients, Jace knew that all too well, even though he was only a first year still. 

Jace cocked his head, sensing his mother's presence. She had returned with the illareth flowers and everbloom pods the potion required and was now coming down the stairs to the lab. Her delicate footstep did not rouse Harry from his trance and he continued preparing the ingredients as if under an enchantment. He had been working for over a half-an-hour without stopping.

Grace took in the sight of the young potions apprentice working with a feverish intensity and her son observing and gave Jace a short nod. Has he been down here the whole time I have been gone? she sent.

No, not the whole time, but most of it. Did you find what he needed, Mum? Jace sent back.

Yes. Professor Snape has an extensive lab and supply of rare ingredients, it makes me envious, Grace admitted with a rueful mental chuckle. She moved over to set the basket of illareth flowers and the container of everbloom pods upon the table where Harry was working. 

He looked up briefly and said, "Thank you, Grace." Then he returned to his work, pouring the required amounts of water and vinegar into the cauldron and then placing it over the fire, making sure the fire was not too high or too low. Once he had added several ingredients and stirred it the requisite number of times, he began extracting the everbloom juice from the pods with the flat side of a knife, crushing the pod and releasing an astounding amount of juice.

Once that was done, he carefully added it to the cauldron, breathing in great gulps of the fresh scent.  He then added the illareth flowers, stirring  once, twice, nine times in all. 

Three was considered a lucky number by most wizards and so nine was triply so and the potion Harry was trying to create needed all the luck it could get.  It was odd, but as Harry was grinding and extracting the juice, he felt as if Severus were nearby, hovering over his shoulder and whispering corrections in his ear. A nice even motion, Potter. Not too fast or too slow. 

When you chop, angle your knife so it cuts better, and always cut away from yourself and never put your fingers in front of the blade.

Harry listened to the half-remembered advice and felt less alone and terrified that he would mess up and ruin the last chance he had to destroy the dagger for good. Now that all the ingredients were added, the potion had to steep for three days.  He straightened, one had going automatically to the small of his back.  He was stiff and sore from bending over a table and a cauldron for over two hours.

But he did not whine.  Anything he suffered was worth it if he could destroy the dagger and restore Severus to health.

Only then did he see Jace, who was sitting in a chair a few feet away, his hazel eyes bright with curiosity. "Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes. I wanted to see how you brewed it." Jace replied. "Are you hungry, Harry? Because I'm starving and my mother's calling us to come and eat dinner . . .it's chicken a la king tonight."

"I've never eaten that before," Harry said, but that didn't matter either, for he was hungry enough to eat an acromantula.

"You'll like it." Jace reassured. "My mother's a good cook, but not as good as my dad."

The two bounded up the stairs, but just before they reached the top Harry halted and turned around.

"Huh? Where are you going, Harry?"

"Back to clean up. Severus would have my hide if I left his lab like that," Harry said, then froze.  This was not Severus's lab and he was not watching his apprentice, waiting for him to remember his instructions.  A sudden pang of sorrow smote him and he felt tears sting his eyes. To cover them, he hurried down the stairs, calling over his shoulder, "Tell your mum I'll be right there, okay? I just need to put everything away."

He drew his wand and intoned a Neaten Up charm and soon the lab was shipshape again, all save for the bubbling cauldron of Curse Dissolving Elixir.

Harry remained looking at it for a long moment, praying that it would turn out all right.  I'm sorry, Severus. This is all my fault. Yet somehow I must make it right again. I want no more deaths on my conscience.

He blinked away the threatened tears yet again, ignoring the small voice that hissed he just ought to let himself cry and be done with it. Then he headed upstairs to join the Witherspoons for dinner.

* * * * * * *

That night, he found himself in the rather awkward position of reading Jilly a bedtime story, one called Magnificent Merlin and his Magical Laboratory. It was not just a children's story, but also a teaching tool for would-be wizards and witches that taught the child through the story about basic potions and ingredients and how to harvest and prepare them. The book was finely illustrated and showed Merlin making a few different kinds of potions and each ingredient was labeled beneath the picture.

Harry would point to one and ask, "What's this?"

Jilly would answer, "A unicorn horn," or "A snake fang," or even "Jasmine, that's a flower. Mummy grows it in her garden. It smells pretty."

Harry was astonished that such a small child could recognize all the ingredients, until Jace popped his head in and said, "She knows all of them so well because we've read this one about a hundred times. It's her favorite story."

"Oh." Harry said, feeling rather foolish.  "But still, she's got an amazing memory for a little kid."

"I do?" Jilly looked up at him.

"Yes. Better than some students I know at school," Harry told her and was rewarded with one of her sunny smiles that never failed to warm him inside.

They continued reading until Jilly's eyes were beginning to droop and then Jace told Harry to stop and he tucked his sister in and whispered, "Good night, imp."

Then Harry and Jace went into Jace's room and then Jace asked Harry several questions he had been meaning to ask since he had heard Harry's voice in his mind the other day.  "What were you doing all the way out here, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, uncertain of how much to reveal to the younger wizard. Severus had always maintained that you should never tell anyone your entire mission, just in case, because what one did not know could not be gotten out of you. "Uh, it's a long story. But it has something to do with stopping the Death Eaters for good and all. I can't really tell you much more, Jace, because Severus says it needs to be kept secret."

"I understand. I really hope you succeed."

"We will. At least I think we will." Harry said with more confidence than he felt.

They talked of other things, safe things, like what classes Jace could take as an elective next term and Harry even allowed himself to imagine what his curriculum would be like if he made it back for next term.  He just hoped that Dumbledore hired a competent Defense teacher for once. Harry was glad to have a friend to talk to about normal teenage things and also grateful that Jace did not pry into what had occurred with Severus and the dagger, the way Ron or Hermione might have.

That night, Harry felt he could sleep without the aid of Dreamless Sleep and so left the vial Grace had placed upon his nightstand untouched.

He sank into slumber easily enough, and spent the better part of three hours dreaming peacefully. But along about three AM, his dreams took a turn for the worse, and he began to cry out and thrash about in his sleep, kicking off his covers and begging Severus to live . . .and to forgive him.

Jace woke up then, alarmed by his friend's suffering, and he could not help but overhear Harry's words, spoken in a halting broken tone.

" . . .sorry, Sev . . .so sorry . . .I didn't mean it . . .so much blood . . .don't die, Severus please!"

Jace slipped from his bed and moved over to Harry's bed, trying to decide if he ought to wake his friend. As he looked down at Harry, he noted Harry was sweating, moisture was dripping down the other's face.

Wait a minute. That's not sweat . . .it's tears. He's crying . . .in his sleep.  Jace had never heard of anything like that before and he felt both fear and empathy for the older wizard, who was obviously suffering the torments of the damned.

" . . .forgive me . . .Severus . . .I didn't know . . .it was the dagger . . .it came to me in dreams . . ." Harry's face twisted, as if in unbearable agony, and he whimpered and sobbed, lost in the realm of dreams laced with blood and guilt.

Jace stared, stricken.  Oh, sweet Merlin have mercy! The dagger . . .possessed him. And I think . . .it was he who attacked Professor Snape, not some Death Eater. Oh blessed Gaia! What a horrible thing to have done and to live with.

Shaken to the core of his being, the young sorcerer returned to his bed and huddled beneath it, tears of empathy streaking his own cheeks.  Eventually, Harry stopped thrashing and sobbing, and lapsed into sleep.  But Jace remained awake, his mind replaying everything Harry had said and not said since his arrival and it took him a long time to fall asleep.

* * * * * *

The first thing Harry did upon waking was to check on Severus. Beneath the cloak, the Potions Master appeared to be sleeping, his face calm in repose.  "It's almost ready, Severus," he whispered. "I tried my best and I think I've succeeded in making the Curse Dissolving Elixir.  One way or another, I will destroy the dagger and break the curse in you. By my magic, I so swear!"

Then he went down to the lab to see if the potion was still simmering and to stir it gently.  It looked like the right consistency and color.  Not too thick, and a deep blue and silver.

Jace was quiet at breakfast, but then, so was Harry.  He felt tired and not inclined to talk much, not even to Jilly.  The two elder Witherspoons allowed him to be quiet and did not seek to badger him with questions or attempt to make conversation. This was not because they did not care about him, but because they respected his privacy and trusted that Harry would talk when he was ready.

Jace asked Harry if he wanted to go flying, and Harry agreed, shifting into Freedom.  The two flew about the property and over the houses of Tristan and another family, the St. Angelo's. It was then that Freedom saw Hedwig, dozing in a crooked limbed apple tree behind the Witherspoon house.

Relief washed through him that the owl was all right and did not appear to have taken any harm from hiding the dagger or confronting the werewolves once again.  Having Severus gravely injured was bad enough, Harry doubted if he would have been able to cope with Hedwig being hurt as well.

It was funny, but since discovering his Animagus form and going on this quest, Harry had learned a great deal of respect for birds and his familiar in particular. Before he had rather taken the owl for granted, treating her more like a winged mail carrier than a companion.  But no longer. Now Hedwig was like family.

He was tempted to wake up the owl and beg her to either show him where the dagger was or retrieve it for him.  But then he decided it might be best to wait until the potion was finished before asking Hedwig about the dagger. The owl might be more willing to cooperate then.

Jace pondered whether or not to confront Harry about what he had overheard as he flew next to the red-tailed hawk.  It made him uncomfortable, carrying such knowledge, and yet he did not know how he could bring up the subject without causing problems.  He did not want to quarrel with Harry, nor make him feel uncomfortable, he had respected the older boy ever since Harry had been his substitute professor in potions and helped him with Malfoy. 

Finally, Jace decided to wait before speaking with his friend about what had really happened.  Perhaps after the potion was finished, he would speak his mind.  But until then . . .He flew one more long loop before heading down to the ground.

The red-tail followed and then changed to Harry.

"You're not bad on a broom, Jace."

"Not as good as you."

Harry shrugged. "I'm good because I practice a lot. Flying is the best thing. It relaxes me."

"Same here," Jace said, noting that some of the strain in the green eyes was less evident now.

The two headed into the house to get a drink, each one harboring a secret from the other.

* * * * * *

On the morning of the third day, Harry went and checked the potion.  It smelled and looked as it should and he allowed himself a rare grin of pure triumph and delight. I did it! I brewed my first master level potion alone. I wonder what Severus would say if he knew.

He imagined the Potions Master patting him on the shoulder and telling him how proud he was.

For several long minutes he remained so, staring down at the potion, and then he put out the fire and headed upstairs.  It was time to find Hedwig and try and convince her to reveal the location of the dagger.  Harry shivered as he climbed the stairs, for he knew this confrontation might be unpleasant, to say the least.  But to cure Severus, he would endure anything.  Even Hedwig's beak, talons, and razor tongue.