The stream was no longer a stream, for as Harry gazed upon it the opposite bank disappeared and the water became still, expanding far out into the horizon. A thick fog, quite unlike the smoke hanging in the air, drifted about the surface and blended the edges with the horizon. A small boat of weathered grey wood rested on the misty surface, tethered to the bank that Harry and Severus stood on by a short rope.      

      "Wow," Harry muttered. "It's amazing."

       "Yes, it is," Severus said, glancing behind them. "You must get in the boat, this is your chance to wake up."

       "How do I get across?" Harry wondered, noticing that there were no paddles.

       "You must concentrate on your destination," Severus told him, "and it will take you there."

      Distant laughter floated down the hill, sending shivers up Harry's spine. He turned to look up the slope. At the top of the hill orange light danced around the tree trunks, casting eerie shadows in the smoke, which had begun to pour over the rocks and slide toward them.

      "You must go Harry," Severus said urgently.

      "I-I wish I could stay with you ..." Harry muttered, thoughtfully fingering the pendant around his neck, the one that had belonged to his mother. "And Draco ... I never got to say goodbye."

       "I know, but you need to return to reality Harry, they need you back there."

       "I'll miss you," he whispered back.

       "I will miss you too," Severus said softly. "Though I will not be gone ... I may be out of sight, but that doesn't mean I am not there. Now go Harry ... Be brave, brave like your mother."

       "No," Harry murmered, "brave like you."

      Harry suddenly rushed forward, hugging Severus tightly. Severus' eyes widened in shock, but he did not pull away from the embrace, but returned it. After a while they pulled apart, Harry had tears in his eyes. Severus sighed slightly, before realizing what was behind them once more. Harry too became aware the smell of smoke was growing stronger in the air, and  of the dull roaring noise that could be heard once more.

      Severus leaped into action, pulled the end of the boat up onto shore and helped Harry into it, for his legs were giving him some trouble, his left in particular. Severus then untied the rope and handed it to him. But Harry did not push off.

       "Can't you come?" Harry asked, staring fearfully at the plume of smoke behind Severus.

       "Where you go I cannot follow," Severus told him gently. "I will be alrightt. The danger is all in your mind, it can not truly hurt me."     

"Severus," Harry began, but was cut off by more or Bellatrix's insane laughter from the trees, the sound rising above the steady roar of fire. 

       Harry fell silent for the orange glow had quite suddenly become brighter, and tongues of fire could be seen rising into the sky at the top of the hill. Burning sticks fell from the catching trees, tumbling down the hill and hissing on the cold damp ground by the stream. But still Harry did not move.

      "GO!" Severus shouted desperately, as sparks  rained down upon them.

      And so Harry rocked the boat, effectively working it loose from the bank and began his journey. He sat in the tiny vessel, facing what lay behind Severus,not knowing what lay ahead for himself. For the moment he did not care, for his heart filled with sorrow as he watched the forest burn, white ash raining down upon Severus, who stood on the bank, hand raised in farewell. It was true that every moment Harry sat, he concentrated on getting back, trusting in Severus' words, that he was needed by someone. But his heart ached at what he was leaving behind: his friendship with Draco and Severus and the ruins of the forest. With a lurch to his gut he thought of Hedwig. He was leaving her behind too, for as he drifted away from the forest, things began to return to him. Little details, here and there.

       The mist was closing in around him, but not in the suffocating way the smoke had. The fog seemed to clear his lungs, and make his heart grow stronger. As it thickened, it began to obscure the bank. And after a few more moments of silent drift, Harry was given his last glance of Severus standing by the water. With a flutter of his heart he realised that Severus did not stand alone. Two other people occupied the bank.

     His parents.

     Harry smiled sadly as the mist rolled across the water and the glow of the fire faded behind it, he carefully shifted in his seat to face the front of the boat. Whatever lay ahead was a mystery, just like the one that Severus had helped him solve.

      ***

     Harry didn't know how much time had passed as he drifted across the still water. Darkness changed to light and light to darkness so many times Harry could not count. The mist still had not parted, and as Harry went he saw shapes in the mist, reflections of his past that brought forth forgotten memories. Some were happy, some hurt. His heart clenched when he saw Fred Weasley fall, Percy shielding his body from harm. He relived his last glance at Ginny before going into the forest to die; Remus, Sirius and his parents' shadows among misty trees; the resurrection stone falling from his fingers; the flash of the Elder Wand in the hand of Voldemort. Memories came back as quickly as the boat coasted through the water, and slowly the years began to trickle back to him.

      Harry heard voices too, echoes of the people he loved, whether they were dead or alive. He heard Ginny the most, sometimes Molly Weasley or Ron and Hermione. He heard his father's voice a few times too, and though he couldn't quite make out what he said, just the sound was enough for him. It was very special when he heard his mother. He could only hear her when the water went dark and the mist shimmered in the night air, and it was then that she sang to him. Her sweet voice rose and fell, singing lullaby he had heard from her long ago, one Harry thought she must have sung when he was very young. In the darkness he would curl up in the bottom of the boat and fall asleep to the sound of her voice and the slight rocking beneath him, stars peeking in and out of the shifting fog.

      This went on for a long time, the drifting, day turning to night, shimmering stars and shifting fog and the sound of his mother's beautiful voice. Until one day, he was not in the boat, and the stars that were there before were not, and his mother's song could not be heard. But the voice of someone else could be.  

      "Harry, can you hear me?" said a voice nearby.

      Harry opened his eyes. He saw a mass of bushy hair by his bedside.

      "'Ermynee?" he said with difficulty as his eyes slid in and out of focus.

      "Get Ginny, he's responding!" she gasped excitedly to man near the doorway.

      "Ron?" Harry whispered hopefully, eyes catching sight of red hair.

     "Yeah mate, I'll be right back," Ron told him, sounding extremely relieved and rather reluctant to go.

      Harry didn't move for a minute, but began to wiggle his fingers and toes. They felt very tired, as though they had been quite still for some time. Harry reminded his sluggish brain that this was true, seeing as he must have been in bed for a while.

       "Why's my left leg so hard to move?" he asked hoarsely in sudden realization that both of his legs had varying degrees of numbness in places.

      "Oh Harry ... They fixed up most of your wounds pretty well, but they couldn't quite, couldn't ..." Hermione whispered tearfully. "Your left leg is partially p-paralyzed and your right is slightly impaired as well. The Healers said that you might be able to gain back more movement in them with therapy once you woke up from the coma ... "

      "Wha' happened?" Harry asked, horrified at the news of his legs.

      "Do you remember how you got here?"

      "No."

      "There was an attack," Hermione said, "in Diagon Alley and you were on duty, just doing a routine sweep of the area I think."

      "Duty?" Harry muttered.

      "Do you remember what your job is?"

      Harry paused a moment, thinking very hard of the things he'd seen in the mist.

       "Auror ..." he said slowly.

       "Yes, well done," Hermione congratulated him before continuing shakily. "Flourish and Blotts was attacked, some old Death Eaters wanted revenge for something. I don't really know what..."

        "And then?"

        "Well, the shop was just about blasted to pieces by the Death Eaters, you went in to help because the owner's family was in there. While you were in there the place collapsed, and you, you fell from the second floor ..."

        "Who's the owner?" Harry asked queasily, feeling he should know the answer.

        "Who was the owner actually, he died in the collapse," Hermione sniffled. "You saved his wife, and his son, barely five months."

        "Who Hermione?"

        "Draco Malfoy," she whispered, hesitating slightly.

        Harry felt as though he had the air knocked out of him. He then realized that that pamphlet Draco had given him on St. Mungos, was no mistake. Draco had come back to help him too, just like Severus had. Harry felt once more the pang of regret he had had during that final conversation with Severus; he hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Draco, nor had he thanked him for everything.

       "Hermione, he was there," Harry muttered, "Said he owed me, he helped me get back. Snape too."

       "Harry, you aren't making sense," Hermione whispered to him. "Malfoy and Snape couldn't have been with you, you were here all along. Besides, Snape is dead too."

       "Know that, figured it out the other day," Harry said, frustrated she didn't understand.

        "Harry!" said a strangled voice from the doorway.

        "Ginny," Harry said brightly, glancing at the doorway.

        "Hold on Ginny ..." Hermione said as she got up and pulled her aside.

         Harry listened as Hermione filled Ginny in on what he'd said and how his speech was and what to expect and such. While Hermione talked a Healer came over and started to ask him questions about how he felt and other silly ones like where he grew up and where he went to learn magic. The Healer then made him move his legs as much as he could and did a lot of wand waving, which Harry grew weary of. He was extremely relieved when the healer left, and Ginny came over.

   "Harry," she whispered, tears in her eyes as she drew him into a long hug. "I was so scared ..."

   "I was too ... I love you Ginny," he said. "Sorry I scared you, how long was I gone?"

   "Just about two weeks. You sort of started to wake up last week, but it was a slow process."

    "Two weeks ..." Harry muttered, it had felt like years when he was in the mist. But in a way it had been. So many years had returned to his memory while he drifted through the endless ocean of his mind.

   "Hermione was right, you are speaking well," Ginny said, sitting down in a chair by Harry's bed. "The Healers said you might end up with a speech impediment."

    "I guess not," Harry told her, sounding tired. "It's good to see you again."

    "How is your memory?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

    "I think there are parts missing, but think I remember most stuff," croaked Harry.

        "Do you remember our wedding?" Ginny whispered.

    "Er ... It was at the Burrow, Teddy was the ring bearer," Harry told her slowly, she sniffled slightly, a soft smile on her face.

    "A few people want to see you, can they come in?"

    "Sure,"

    "Great. You can come in now," Ginny called to the doorway, still smiling.

    A little black haired boy stuck his head around the corner. He looked a bit older than two. He glanced back at Ron who had been holding his hand. Ron nodded and nudged him into the room.

    "Daddy!" cried the boy, toddling around the corner and over to the bed.

    "James!" Harry said with a smile, Ginny looked relieved he remembered. "How could I forget you?"

     James climbed up onto the bed hugged his father, who hugged his little boy back as hard as he could. It was funny, for he had not seen memories of him in the mist, yet he remembered James in great detail.

     "You be okay Daddy?" James asked.

     "He will be in time," Ginny said confidently, ruffling the little boy's hair.

     "Harry!" Molly Weasley said as she walked toward the bed.

     "Hi Molly," Harry said, grinning at the little squirming bundle in her arms.

     "Hello dear, I am so glad you've woken up," she said, sitting down in the chair next to Ginny's.

      "Daddy get better!" James told Molly with excitement.

      "Albus, there you are," Harry said, remembering the little baby that poked his head out from his blanket.

      Albus smiled, two tiny teeth showing.  His big green eyes blinked up at Harry as he lifted his little arms toward him.

     "Daddy!" he squealed.

     "Oh!" Ginny gasped, "That was his first word Harry!"

     "It was?" Harry cried excitedly, "Well done Al!"

     "Yay Abus," James clapped his hands happily.

     Harry relaxed in his bed, exausted but happy. It was true that his legs might never be the same, and that walking would be harder than before. But he could still move them a bit, and he promised himself he would get better. Hermione had said it was possible, and if he could defeat Lord Voldemort he could do this too. All he needed was some determination and a little help from his friends. He would do it for Ginny, and for the two little boys that he loved so much. He suddenly realised why he had not seen memories of them in the mist: he hadn't needed to, for he had never forgotten them, they had been forever imprinted in his heart.

         "Aaa!" squealed Albus gleefully as he yanked at his father's hair.

     Harry winced, causing Ginny to burst out laughing.

     Despite the pain in his scalp, for Harry, everything felt right. It was good to be back.

       ***

     Harry's visitors had finally left him for the night. And after a long day of people coming and going, Harry was extremely glad he could rest at last. He didn't let the thought of his legs bother him, and didn't let himself regret not saying goodbye to Draco, for he would see him again some day. So, thinking nothing of the long journey he had made, he slowly rolled over onto his belly, tired and looking forward to a long sleep. After all, he could think about what had happened later. He was just about to close his eyes when he felt something hard beneath his chest. He pulled at it. A fine chain hung around his neck. Harry unclasped it and held it up in the dim light of the ward.

    His mother's necklace. 

    "Huh ..." was all he could say.