"Harry, are you going to eat that last banger?"

Harry glanced down at the approaching fork and silently shook his head.

"Ron, you've practically eaten everything on this table single handedly." Hermione was a bit edgy this morning.

Ron speared the one remaining sausage. "Look, I can't help it if I'm hungry."

"Will you two please ... stop arguing," Harry pleaded as he rubbed his aching head.

The students of Gryffindor house were finishing breakfast and receiving their new class schedules from Professor McGonagall. Working her way down by year, she was just finishing up with the seventh years.

Harry was exhausted; the pain in his side had kept him awake most of the night and now added to that was one of his headaches.

"All right sixth years, move down to this end please," called out their Head of House.

After forming a queue, each sixth-year filed along to receive their schedule and a bit of advice before heading off for their first class.

"Oh no."

"Something the matter, Mr. Potter?"

"No Professor. It's just that..."

McGonagall glanced down at his schedule and quirked her lips, "I must say starting each week with Double Potions could be a bit daunting, but I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Yes Ma'am."

Harry shuffled off to join Hermione. She'd already received her schedule and was waiting for Harry and Ron. All three had qualified for sixth year potions, so they planned to walk down to the Dungeons, together.

"Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall.

Harry turned. "Yes?"

"Are you well? You look a bit pale."

Shrugging, "I'm fine. Just one of my headaches" That, and my side is bloody well killing me.

"Well, if it gets any worse I want you to go see Madam Pomfrey. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

As soon as Severus finished sorting his Slytherins with their new class schedules, he headed straight for the dungeons knowing that the sixth years would already be lined up outside his classroom, waiting for him.

Finally reaching the potions lab, he strode quickly between the two queues of students hugging the walls to go and unlock the door, but he paused abruptly at the sudden appearance of an old, familiar feeling of uneasiness. There it is again.

Slowly, he resumed his path toward the door and opened it, allowing the students entry. He waited by the door and was once again surprised when Harry walked past him; for when he did, the uneasiness intensified and as he moved off toward his table, it diminished.

Severus remained standing by the door, astonished at this realization. He'd always attributed this uneasiness as the affect of Gryffindors and Slytherins occupying a relatively small area for a short period of time. Apparently there was a bit more to it than a simple case of two incompatible groups.

He shook his head to clear away the uneasy feeling and entered the classroom, striding toward the front he turned to survey the class. His preoccupation and odd behavior out in the hallway hadn't gone unnoticed and had given rise to wary glances from his students.

It was time for his intimidating speech regarding NEWT level potions, how everyone present should be grateful they had been allowed admittance into this class, how difficult the course work would be and so on. He delivered it with his usual aplomb. "I expect that each of you have completed the required reading for this first lesson." He then flicked his wand in the direction of the blackboard. "The directions are on the board. You may proceed."

With the student's attention now off of him and onto the task of brewing a difficult potion, Severus moved to take a seat at his desk and put on a show of busying himself with paperwork while in reality, he tried to further assess his recent discovery.

Why am I picking up on Potter's feelings? He shot a quick glance toward the young man. Granger had apparently headed off to retrieve the needed supplies from the cupboard, while Harry was attempting to start the fire under their cauldron. Now that Severus actually looked at Harry, it was obvious that something was wrong. His skin was pallid and his movements strained, as if he were in pain.

Severus's thoughts drifted back to that day when he'd stood in the hallway of the Dursley's house, beside the small cupboard under the stairs. At that time, he'd been blitzed with Potter's emotions, albeit shadows of what had originally transpired.

How can this be happening? Severus thought to himself. He'd always prided himself on his acute skills in Occlumency. Was it because of his work with Potter last school term? That time when Harry breached Severus's shield and entered his thoughts and memories, had some sort of connection been established?

A voice calling his name roused him from his musings. "Yes, Miss Parkinson."

"Professor, I'm not quite certain which part of this newt liver I'm supposed to use."

"I'm coming." Heading over to the awaiting students, he thought he'd take this opportunity to perform a small experiment and execute some subtle Legilimency.

After straightening out Pansy Parkinson, Severus proceeded to stroll about the room and survey the other student's progress. He made his way slowly over to Potter and Granger's desk and, stopping behind the pair, he reached out with the utmost of care and ever so lightly brushed upon the surface of Harry's mind.

In contrast to his gentle efforts, he encountered vehement emotions: feelings of intense pain, a sense of fierce determination, fear and the memory of repeated blows.

Severus immediately ceased his efforts and withdrew to his office, stepping just out of sight from those in the classroom; he leaned against a counter, unsettled by what had just transpired. There was no longer any doubt; Potter was injured and he received these injuries from some sort of altercation, and even though he was in great pain he was trying desperately to carry on in order to protect someone or something.

Potter needed medical attention, but Severus thought it unwise to have the teen strolling up to the third floor unassisted and unprotected. With the need for discretion in handling what was an apparently delicate situation, Severus closed the door to his office, cast a Muffliato charm and then Floo called the Headmaster.

A minute or two later, Severus was back in the classroom once again strolling amongst the students. There was a knock at the door. "Enter."

The door opened to reveal Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning Headmaster."

"Good morning to you Professor Snape," Dumbledore replied in a cheery voice. "My apologies for the intrusion."

"No apologies are necessary," Severus returned silkily. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"I wonder if I might borrow Harry for a moment."

The students, having watched this volley of social banter, now focused their attention on Harry.

The surprised teen stared at Dumbledore who merely smiled back in response. Then Harry, Hermione and Ron all exchanged wary glances.

"Mr. Potter," interjected Severus, "do please move along so that the class might return to their potions."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry Professor." Harry gingerly lifted his school bag and followed the Headmaster out of the classroom.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"May I?" Dumbledore reached for Harry's schoolbag.

Bewildered, Harry simply handed over the bag which Dumbledore shrank and placed in his pocket.

"Shall we?" Dumbledore gestured to the hallway before them.

"Headmaster, what's going on?"

"I believe you are the only one who can answer that question."

"What do you mean?" They were now ascending the stairs. Harry had only been able to manage shallow breaths since his run-in with Goyle; going up the stairs was proving to be a challenge.

"Professor Snape was quite worried about you."

"He was?"

"Yes Harry, he was and still is."

"And he asked you to come for me?"

"He did indeed." Noticing that Harry was starting to lag, Dumbledore placed a supportive arm behind the teen's back. "Professor Snape could see that you were in pain and needed help. I must say, now that I've seen you myself, I wholeheartedly concur with his assessment."

"But Headmaster, I'm fine... Really, I am." Harry started to cough and grabbed his side.

Holding onto Harry a bit tighter, Albus watched as the young man struggled to catch his breath.

"Are... are we going... to your tower... Sir?"

Dumbledore patted Harry reassuringly. "No, we are going to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey is waiting for us. Specifically, she is waiting for you."

Harry looked up with an expression of fear. "No Headmaster, please. We can't. Really, I'm fine."

"Harry stop this. Obviously you are not fine. We are going to the hospital wing and you will allow Madame Pomfrey to heal you."

"But …"

"And I want you to tell me what happened? How did you receive these injuries and why did you not seek assistance?"

Harry's fearful expression grew into full-blown panic. "Oh no, Headmaster. Please, I...." A series of coughs interrupted his sentence. "If say anything... they'll hurt her."

"To whom are you referring?"

Unfortunately, he was going to have to wait for his answer for just then, Harry's complexion went from pallid to pure white. Dumbledore grabbed a hold of the teen as he started to collapse. "My boy, what's wrong?"

It took every bit of effort Harry could muster to answer, "Can't ... breath."

In a heartbeat, the aged wizard cast a Featherlight spell upon the struggling teen, swept him up in his arms and hightailed it to the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

When the class ended, Severus enjoined Hermione and Ron to remain. After the other students left, he closed the door and attempted to get some answers. "Do either of you know how Mr. Potter received his current injuries?"

Not sure what to say or if they should even respond, they simply stared back at the Professor in silence.

"I'm waiting," he pressed.

Hermione broke first. "Oh Professor, it happened yesterday ... on the train."

"Exactly what happened, Miss Granger?"

"Someone beat him up, just before we pulled into Hogsmeade," added Ron.

"Someone? You don't know who?"

"No sir. Harry won't say who did it."

"Why won't he divulge the identity of the perpetrator?"

"We don't know that either, Sir." Hermione's voice was starting to quaver. "He refuses to talk about it and just keeps saying that he's fine. Professor, where is he now?"

Snape sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I would assume, the hospital wing. At least, that was where the Headmaster was taking him."

"You knew?" Ron's response was halfway between a question and an accusation.

Snape focused his inky black eyes on the redhead. "I am only aware of the facts you've just relayed, Mr. Weasley. It was obvious to me that Mr. Potter was in pain and needed help. Not wishing to draw unnecessary attention upon him, I asked the Headmaster if he would escort Mr. Potter to the infirmary."

"Professor, may we go see him?" pleaded Hermione.

Snape shook his head. "No, go to the Great Hall and eat your lunch. I will send word along shortly to report his status." Snape rose to leave, but paused. "Mind you, keep this matter strictly to yourselves. Understood?"

"Yes sir." They responded in unison.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Severus came upon Dumbledore as he was exiting the infirmary. He could see Harry and Madame Pomfrey further down the ward. "How is he?"

Albus sighed with relief "He'll be fine." He placed a gentle hand upon Severus's arm. "Thank you for acting so quickly. If you hadn't..." The old wizard shook his head, thinking about the alternative.

"Why? What happened?" asked Severus, surprised at his mentor's response.

Albus relayed the fact that Harry had three broken ribs and that while on their way to the infirmary, one of them had punctured the pleura causing one of Harry's lungs to collapse.

Poppy walked over to join the two wizards. "He's sleeping now."

"How long will he be in the infirmary, Poppy?" asked Albus.

"I've placed a healing charm upon the affected area. He'll need to remain very still while it draws the air out of the cavity. The entire process should take a day or so. After that he'll be free to go, but he'll need to take at easy for a couple more days, while his lung strengthens."

They discussed Harry's situation a bit further, then Poppy returned to her office after which Severus relayed the information he'd gleaned from his inquiries with Ron and Hermione. "Were you able to persuade Harry to divulge any details … the perpetrator's name perhaps?"

"Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle; I believe it was Mr. Goyle doing the hitting."

"You believe?"

"Well, he was rather preoccupied at the time, with just trying to take a breath."

Severus looked over to where Harry lay sleeping. "Why did he remain silent?"

"He was concerned for the safety of Miss Granger. I believe his exact words were, "they'll hurt her." Apparently they leveled a threat of seeking retribution upon Miss Granger, if Harry reported the beating."

Snape began to smolder. Not only were the two oafs completely out of line in attacking a fellow student, but the level of their tactics rivaled that of a Mountain Troll. Preoccupied with the distinct possibility that the Sorting Hat must have made a mistake when it sorted Crabbe and Goyle into Slytherin, he barely heard Dumbledore call his name.

"Severus?"

"Forgive me Albus, did you say something?"

"I asked if you had any further information."

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately I do not."

"Well then," Dumbledore sighed, "I believe it is time we paid a visit to Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe"

~~~~~

Later that day, Albus and Severus stood on the front steps of Hogwarts and watched as two Aurors escorted Crabbe and Goyle to the front gates.

Dumbledore had vacillated whether to bring official charges against the two young men or simply punish them there at the school. But then he discovered that Goyle had used a Brass Glove to carry out the beating, a dark arts artifact charmed with metal like properties which created the effect that Goyle's hand was encased in metal, easily breaking three of Harry's ribs. This act of wrongdoing was compounded by the fact that Goyle had blackmailed his victim into silence by threatening the welfare of yet another student. Albus was left with little choice in the matter. The two ruffians were about to Apparate to the Ministry to be brought up on charges of assault upon a minor, with the added charge of using an item of dark magic.

As Severus watched the progress of the four toward the Apparation point, he reviewed the content of the lecture he would be delivering to his Slytherins later that evening. He had called for a house meeting to be held in the Slytherin common room just after dinner where he planned to deliver an admonishment his snakes would not soon forget. Children of Death Eaters or not, anyone sorted into his house was expected to uphold the high standard of behavior befitting the name — Slytherin.

Also lost in thought, Albus continued to organize the plan he'd devised that afternoon. The event on the train with Crabbe and Goyle motivated Dumbledore to revisit the innumerable adversities that had plagued Harry since he'd reentered the wizarding world. It was now clear that a typical education in magic was simply not enough to prepare Harry for all that lay ahead of him.

Convinced that he'd already failed the young man repeatedly, Albus was determined to rectify the situation. That afternoon, he'd spoken to those individuals who would be involved and had arranged for a meeting to be held the following evening so that Harry could meet his new advisory team.

A silvery winged serpent flew directly in front of the two wizards. It swooped and spiraled around them until its antics drew both preoccupied men from their thoughts.

"Ah ... Harry is awake," chimed Albus.

Severus scowled at Poppy's frolicking Patronus. "Need it be so cheerful?"

"Now, now Severus." The two watched as the silvery serpent fade into nothing, now that its mission was complete. "If you will excuse me, I wish to meet with Harry and present my new plan to him. Good luck with your meeting this evening."

"Thank you, Albus. Good luck with Harry, and please give him my regards."

When Dumbledore reached the third floor landing, he turned and stared down the corridor leading toward the hospital wing. His thoughts were consumed with his past choices regarding to this powerful young wizard, this teen who was to be the savior of their society. The fact that they'd almost lost Harry three times in just the past four months had left Dumbledore shaken and he was determined to rectify the situation.

He thought back on that evening at the Burrow when he'd spoken with Harry and held the teen as he broke down into sobs. For too long, Albus had thought of Harry as a tool needed to defeat Voldemort, but he had failed to acknowledge that first and foremost Harry was an individual, a young man with emotions and dreams, someone who had faced far too many hardships and someone who was now struggling to cope with his growing magic.

Confident that his new plan would set things right, Dumbledore patted the piece of folded parchment nestled in the pocket of his robe and began walking toward the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"What's taking him so bloody long?" Ron huffed as he paced back and forth. "It's nearly curfew."

"Ron, don't be ridiculous." Hermione cast a Tempus. "We've only been waiting an hour."

She'd barely finished her sentence when the infirmary doors opened and out walked Dumbledore. "Ah, you're both here. Excellent."

"Headmaster, may we visit Harry?"

"I dare say you'd better, particularly you, Miss Granger."

"Me?" she asked.

"Ever since he awoke, Harry has been quite concerned over your well being. It was all Madame Pomfrey could do to keep him from going in search of you. But do try to keep your visit brief. He is rather drained."

"We will Headmaster, we promise."

Dumbledore continued on his way as Ron and Hermione sprinted into the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Hermione gave Harry a heartfelt yet gently hug when she finally reached him. With tears in her eyes she thanked him repeatedly for his gallantry, forsaking his own well being to assure her safety. Then in the next breath, she scolded him for his lack of good judgment.

"Let the poor man breathe, Hermione."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're right Ron." She let go and sat back, looking at her friend with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm okay." He asked in a whisper of a voice, "any homework?"

"Nope, everything was mostly review today." Ron stared at the magical encasement Madame Pomfrey had placed on Harry's side. It was slowly drawing the air out of the pleural cavity. "Wow mate, that thing looks bloody awful."

"Gee... thanks Ron" Harry was taking the smallest of breaths. It was obvious to both his visitors that trying to speak was presenting him with a bit of a challenge.

"Don't listen to him Harry," consoled Hermione. "But you do look a little pale."

Harry sank deeper into his numerous pillows. Because he was and would continue to experience trouble with his breathing until his lung had fully inflated, Madame Pomfrey wanted to keep his torso elevated to help alleviate some of the distress. "I'm okay, just really tired, and it's... kind of hard... to get a breath." Since Harry could only manage shallow breaths, he could only get out a few words at a time.

"Then you just go to sleep and we'll be by tomorrow..."

"Hold on," interjected Ron. "I want to know what Dumbledore had to say. He was in here for bloody all evening. He made us wait out in the hallway, the git."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione.

"Sorry." Ron looked around sheepishly to make sure no one had heard him. "So mate, what did he say?"

Harry lolled his head to the side and nodded toward the piece of folded parchment sitting on top of the nightstand. "That."

Hermione snatched up the parchment and began examining it. "Harry, this is a new schedule."

Harry decided just to nod instead of talk.

"You have additional courses, and..."

What additional courses?" interrupted Ron.

Hermione shot Ron an exasperated look. "Ronald Weasley, must you always...." Hermione stopped midsentence, silently counted to ten and then addressed Ron in a placating voice. "If you would please be patient for just a moment, I will read the list to you."

Moving just their eyes, Ron and Harry exchanged a silent, knowing look.

"In addition to his regular classes, Harry is going to be having an independent study class with Professor Jackson, mentoring sessions with Dumbledore and ... Occlumency with Professor Snape."

"Occlumency ... again?" Ron said in aghast.

Harry pursed his lips and nodded his head.

"Harry," added Hermione, "that really is for the best. Your scar keeps bothering you and you're still getting those headaches."

He just continued to nod.

"But, we're talking Snape!" exclaimed Ron.

Harry attempted to explain. It really was an effort to breathe and talk all at the same time. "Dumbledore promised me... it would be different this time. He promised that Snape.... would be nice to me."

"Hey mate, did you know it was Snape who got help for you?"

Again, Harry settled on just nodding his head. He really was getting quite tired.

"What about your sessions with Dumbledore?" asked Hermione, "Was he at all specific?"

"My wild magic." He answered defeatedly.

Madame Pomfrey called out as she approached the bedside. "All right you two, Mr. Potter needs to get some rest."

"Yes ma'am," they both answered.

"Rest up mate. We'll come by and visit you tomorrow."

Hermione gave Harry a gentle hug and whispered in his ear, "Thanks again Harry, but don't you ever do anything like that again." She and Ron headed back to the tower, waving their goodbyes as they exited the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey handed her patient a vial of Dreamless Sleep then set about removing the collected air from the encasement.

"I don't think I'll... even need this. I'm really tired"

"You need a full night of uninterrupted sleep. Drink up, Mr. Potter."

Poppy sat down on the edge of the bed. She generally maintained a no-nonsense approach with her patients, but Harry always seemed to have so many trying experiences and had been such a frequent visitor to the infirmary that she'd developed a soft spot for the teen. "Harry, I wish you had come to me sooner. We could have avoided all these complications."

"Sorry."

She shook her head while tucking the blankets around his shoulders. "I wasn't seeking an apology from you, Harry. To be honest, considering all that happened last year, I can understand your reticence."

Harry's eyes were starting to droop. "Sometimes it's hard... to know... what to do." His eyes closed fully and Poppy could tell that he had drifted off to sleep.

She sighed and reached over to brush back his fringe. "What are we going to do with you, Mr. Potter?"