The Time of Destiny

Abraxan

Story Summary:
Complete. Sequel to "The Refiner's Fire." Harry's Seventh Year, complete with adventure, training, snogging, hospital visits, etc. Watch for ficlets to be added from time to time to fill in missing scenes in the epilogue. Canon-based through OotP. HP/GW, RW/HG, RL/NT

Chapter 33 - "The Last Hurrah"

Chapter Summary:
Harry realizes he’s in the hospital wing *again*! He has an unexpected visitor, whose visit isn’t particularly welcome. Exams begin and Harry is determined to take at least one despite all the class he’s missed. He does someone a favour which has shocking results.
Posted:
02/27/2006
Hits:
5,881
Author's Note:
Many thanks to my Yahoo group for helping with suggestions for N.E.W.T.-level potions! Dorothy McComb, Rich Streeter, and Boduke all sent in specific suggestions, and Cait sent me a link to a name generator site she thought might be helpful. There was also some discussion on the board about my options. Thanks for helping me out, folks! Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my betas, Starfox, Blakeavich, Iris and Asad!


Chapter 33 - The Last Hurrah

Many hours later, Harry became aware of a gentle weight on his arm, a soft sound to his right. What's that on my arm? What was that sound? What happened to me this time? He sensed no danger nearby, so he lay quietly, eyes still closed, trying to remember. No luck. He opened his eyes just a crack, squinting around without moving his head. Ginny was asleep, sprawled in the chair beside his bed, her hand resting lightly on his arm. He smiled a bit. The weight on his arm was her hand. Bless her, Ginny was always there to look after him.

Glancing past her, he noticed the all-too-familiar curtains around his bed. Hospital wing again. Wonder how long it will be this time? Or how long it's been? Poor Ginny looked completely exhausted, and was sleeping soundly enough that his slight movements hadn't disturbed her yet. That was fine with Harry. She needed to rest, from the look of her.

He glanced around a bit, squinting to make his eyes focus as much as they could without his glasses. Ginny was the only one with him at the moment. Curtains cut off the view of his area from the rest of the wing, but he could hear movement out there. From the rustling, shuffling sounds, other people were here to see the nurse. The pale light shining over his curtains told him it was probably early morning. He remembered that it was nearly exam time, or possibly they'd already started. He had no idea how much time had passed since his return to Hogwarts.

The quiet sounds of many feet and soft voices outside the curtains caught his attention again. There must be a lot of students who were ill from worrying about their exams and needed a remedy, which was normal this time of year. He sighed. Would he be able to take his exams? Had he already missed the ones he'd planned to take?

Something just past Ginny's chair caught Harry's eye. It was a huge, odd shape - what was it? He squinted at it harder, lifting his head a bit to try to see more of it. It looked like a huge glass aquarium filled with water. Was a merperson being cared for in the hospital wing? He shook his head a bit in confusion, then regretted it immediately.

Ow. Shouldn't have done that, he thought, moaning softly. Was there any part of his poor abused body that didn't hurt? He ran through a mental checklist and decided that his hands and arms were OK, as were his legs. It was his chest and back, and his head, to some extent, that were in tremendous pain. Maybe if he turned on his side, his back wouldn't hurt so much. He began trying to turn over, but quickly stopped, his movements and gasps of pain enough now to awaken Ginny.

"Hi," she said sleepily as she smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm . . . fine," he said, struggling to smile despite the agony in his chest.

"No, you're not, but you will be. You need some pain potion, right?"

"Oh, yeah," he moaned. "That . . . would be . . . brilliant." He was gasping again. He couldn't get a deep breath no matter how hard he tried. "What's . . . wrong . . . with me?"

"You're getting better. You'll be out of here in a couple of days, Marcus said," Ginny assured him.

"But what . . . happened . . . to me?" he insisted.

"I'll tell you later, sweetie," she said, getting to her feet. "Your lungs were hit with a curse that made it hard for you to breathe. They're healing very nicely now. That's all that's important. I'm going to get your pain potion, all right?"

"What aren't . . . you . . . telling me?" he said, his eyes anxious.

Ginny leaned down so she was nearly nose to nose with him. "Do I look upset? Don't shake your head, it might hurt," she said as he started to move a bit. "If I'm not upset, you must be doing well, right? Trust me. It would take a few minutes to explain it to you, and you'll listen better when the pain potion takes effect. Madam Pomfrey is tied up with people who are ill worrying about exams, so I'm going to go and get your potion - she's too busy to give it to you herself right now, but I can do it. I'll just be a minute, OK?"

"'K," he whispered, then tried to return her smile. She patted his shoulder and disappeared between the curtains. In a short time, she returned and gave him his potion.

"Better now?" she said brightly as she capped the potion flask.

"Yeah," he said, having realized that one syllable answers were much easier for him than actual sentences.

"I know it hurts, baby, but you were so ill. You'll feel better soon. I'm going to put your poultice on you. It stinks pretty badly, but it does help." She opened his pyjama top and sat on the edge of the bed, a covered jar in one hand, a small spatula in the other. She tried to be all business, but when she glanced at his face, the sight of those beautiful green eyes gazing so trustingly at her was more than she could take. She set the pot and spatula aside, cupped his cheeks in her hands and bent down to kiss him, trying not to drip tears into his face. He lifted his arms and tried to pull her close, but was too weak to manage it.

Ginny sobbed and relaxed into his embrace. Feeling his arms around her again was an indescribable joy. She cried on his shoulder for a few minutes, then sat up, wiped her face and did a Drying Charm on his pyjamas. "I'm sorry. That must have hurt, having me on your shoulder when you're in so much pain. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I'd say . . . your git . . . of a fiancé . . . was hurt again," he said, giving her a slow smile. "Sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," she insisted, wiping her face again before taking the lid off the pot so she could apply the poultice.

"Ergh," Harry grunted, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"I agree, but it has helped your lungs open up," Ginny said as she began slathering the nasty concoction on his chest. "Breathe it in as deeply as you can. You improve a lot every time we use this stuff, nasty as it is."

"Tell me . . . what happened," he said, gazing at her seriously.

Ginny went through the story as she worked. When she mentioned Zabini dying, Harry winced. "I didn't mean . . . to kill him," he moaned. "I was trying . . . to shield us."

"Everyone knows that, Harry," she assured him. "You aren't in any trouble."

"But I didn't mean . . . to kill him," Harry said obviously distressed.

"What's bothering you?" she asked him as she closed up the poultice pot and re-buttoned his pyjamas.

Harry looked at his right hand in horror. "You said . . . these . . . were on his chest?" he said, glancing at the phoenixes and griffins branded into his right palm. Ginny nodded. "I didn't do anything . . . didn't send them . . . didn't know," he said, sounding a bit frightened. "My magic's . . . out of control."

"Yes, that's what Professor Dumbledore thinks, too," she replied. "He thought it was remarkable for you to cast any kind of spell as badly injured as you were."

"Wasn't a spell," Harry insisted. "I couldn't think, couldn't speak . . ."

"I know, that's what they told me," she agreed. "You just rest and don't worry about it. You're not in any trouble. Remember that."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"No."

"Well, Madam Pomfrey did say you might not have an appetite while we're using the poultice. It is pretty smelly, isn't it?" She waved her hand in front of her face and grimaced, making him smile. She smiled in return, glad to see the more cheerful light in his eyes. "Would you like me to read to you? Or do you just want to go to sleep?"

"Dunno," he said, then surprised himself with a huge yawn. "Sorry," he said, blushing a bit.

"That's better!" Ginny said with satisfaction. "You're blushing! You must have plenty of oxygen in you if you can blush!"

Harry smiled at her, then lifted his hand and twined a lock of her hair around his fingers. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For always . . . being here . . . for me. I love you."

"I love you too. You get some rest now, okay?" She tucked him in, noticing as she smoothed the covers across his broad chest that he'd lost weight again. He'd lost a lot in the hospital while recovering from the battle and had just started to regain what he'd lost, and now he was far too thin again. She was going to have to make sure he ate well when he was strong enough.

* * * * *

Late that afternoon, the hospital wing was silent, all the students who'd been ill from nerves having received a dose of potion to calm their nervous stomachs. Ginny had spent the day revising for her exams, the first of which she'd need to take the next day. Harry slept quietly after she applied the poultice.

Ginny sat up and stretched, her movement waking Harry a bit. "Sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you," she said as she bent down and kissed his cheek. "How do you feel?"

A mischievous light sparkled in his eyes as he made clutching motions in mid-air. "With my hands," he said, giving her a cheeky grin.

"With . . . ha! You're loads better, if you're being cheeky with me, sir!" she said in delight. "Hey, I need to go to the loo, and you need to eat. I'll order some food for you and it should be here by the time I get back, how's that?"

"Sounds great," he murmured, then stifled a yawn. "Hand me my wand, please?"

"Here you go. You shouldn't do any magic, you know. Marcus said that wouldn't be a good idea. You need to heal first."

"OK. I just wanted it."

"And since I'll be gone, it would be a good idea for you to have it," she said. "Ron or Hermione would be here to help me watch you, but they're taking their N.E.W.T's. Go back to sleep. When you smell something delicious--"

"That will be you," he said, chuckling a bit, then moaning.

"It's not quite time for your pain potion, so stop making yourself laugh!" she chided him gently. "Go to sleep. I'll be back before you know it," she added, kissing him lightly on the lips and tousling his hair.

"I worked on my hair for hours," he whinged, making her laugh. He smiled, satisfied that he'd amused her, then closed his eyes and was soon asleep again.

Shortly after Ginny's departure, Harry awoke when he sensed someone nearby. He opened his eyes to see who it was and squinted, unable to identify the tall woman before him. She handed him his glasses rather imperiously and he put them on with a quietly muttered "Thanks." When he could see properly, he looked at the woman again. "Minister Bones!" he said, trying to sit up a bit. He groaned in pain and gave up on moving.

"We need to talk," Madam Bones said. The Minister of Magic was accompanied by a seedy-looking man who wrinkled his nose and backed away when the fumes from the poultice on Harry's chest reached his nostrils.

"What about?" Harry asked, unnerved by her brusque manner. She'd always been quite cordial with him.

"About Zabini's death. Tell me exactly what happened. You're facing life in Azkaban unless I can find a way to help you. Tell me everything," she said impatiently. "Hurry up, I don't have much time."

"I . . . I don't remember much," Harry said, wishing Ginny was here with him. It would be rude to call her on his ring in front of the Minister of Magic. Madam Bones had always been fair with him, even seemed to like him. What was going on here?

"Tell me what you remember. What were you thinking when you sent that spell that killed Zabini? Why did you want to kill him?"

"He nearly killed me! And I thought he'd killed Ginny. But I wasn't trying to kill him, I didn't mean to--" Harry began.


"Don't give me that. I know he's been giving you trouble all year," Madam Bones snapped. "What were you thinking? How did you put those marks on his chest? How did you stick him to the wall that way?"

Merlin, who'd been sitting quietly by Harry's side, suddenly stood up, the crest of feathers on his head erect, his posture stiff and angry. A flash of light came from the man behind Madam Bones and Merlin attacked him, knocking the man down.

"You're not Madam Bones! You're a reporter!" Harry pointed his wand at her and cried, "Incarcerous!" and the woman was instantly bound in magical ropes. The filthy language that came out of her mouth would have made a Muggle sailor proud. "Zip it!" Harry snarled, slashing his wand through the air and then groaning in pain.

He fell back against his pillows, glad the woman was now silent, and watched Merlin rip the camera from the man's hands. "Merlin! Get rid of him," Harry said, coughing now and groaning in agony. With a flash of light, the phoenix and the man were gone. Harry was in too much pain and too angry to care much about what Merlin might do with the man. He just wanted him gone.

A few minutes later, Ginny returned, a tray of food in her hands. When she saw Madam Bones tied up on the floor, she gasped and dropped the tray, crockery and food flying everywhere. "Minister Bones!" she cried as she pulled out her wand to untie the woman. "Harry, what happened?"

Harry had remained still long enough to regain a bit of strength. "DON'T UNTIE HER!" he snarled, then had a hard coughing fit. "She . . . isn't," he added when he could catch a breath, then coughed a while longer.

"She isn't what?" Ginny said, dumbfounded, standing with her wand still held loosely in her hand.

"Madam Bones. She isn't Madam Bones," Harry said, trying hard to catch his breath.

"How do you know?" Ginny said, staring curiously at the writhing, furious woman on the floor. She looked up at Harry and noticed his face was pale and sweaty. "What did she do to you?"

"Asked questions," he said shortly. "I'm fine."

"Madam Pomfrey will tell us how fine you are," she said tartly. She looked at the woman on the floor again. "And what did you do to her?"

"She's a reporter," he said, then lay back on his pillows again and closed his eyes. "Get Dumbledore."

"OK," she agreed.

* * * * *

Dumbledore walked quickly into the hospital wing, followed closely by Madam Bones. He took in the situation and said, "What's going on here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Madam Bones said, glaring at the woman on the floor. "Who is this?"

"Harry says she's a reporter," Ginny said, holding her wand loosely again, but pointed at the Minister. "Are you really Madam Bones?"

"Yes," the Minister snapped.

"Tell Harry something that he knows you would know. He needs a password," Ginny said.

"I know who James Evans is," the Minister said instantly. "He went to see the giants and trolls with Professor Dumbledore." She glanced at the impostor on the floor and stopped herself from saying that James Evans was Harry in disguise.

"Harry?" Ginny said, turning to him, but keeping her wand on the Minister. "Is that good enough?"

"Grandfather?" Harry said. "Are you sure it's her?"

"Yes, very sure," Dumbledore replied. "Are you certain this is a reporter?"

"I think it's Rita Skeeter," Harry said. "Something about the way she questioned me, and the bloke with her - I think he was her photographer before."

"What bloke with her?" Madam Bones demanded. "Where is he?"

"Merlin took him," Harry said simply.

"Where?" the headmaster said.

"Dunno, he just flashed him out of here," Harry replied. He was tiring, his voice raspy and thin now.

"Call him and let's find out where he took the man," Dumbledore suggested.

"'K. Merlin? I need you," Harry said, his voice a mere whisper now.

"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones said in concern.

"Not by half," Ginny snarled. She was angry with herself, angry with Madam Bones - both of them, actually - angry with Fate for the many difficulties in life Harry had faced so far.

"Gin - it's really her," Harry said suddenly. "This other one didn't care how I was, she just wanted a story."

Ginny sighed, then glanced up at Madam Bones, blushing a bit as she put her wand away. "Sorry."

"You look exhausted, Miss Weasley," Madam Bones said kindly. "Are you ill?"

"She's been watching over Harry," Dumbledore explained. "I'm sure she could use some rest." He peered at the girl over his half-moon spectacles. "Have you slept?"

"Yes, I have," she replied defiantly. "I've been studying, I've eaten, I've slept. I'm fine. Harry needs to eat, though," she said, looking sadly at the food now spilled all over the floor. She sighed and waved her wand, cleaning up the mess and stuffing all of it in the bin. She'd have to call a house-elf to bring him something. She'd thought it was safe to leave him for a little while, with Madam Pomfrey the only other person in the hospital wing. It was such fun to choose food she thought he'd enjoy, but she wasn't going to leave him for that long again.

Merlin arrived just then, landing in front of Harry and gazing at him expectantly.

"Hi," Harry murmured, stroking the beautiful bird's scarlet feathers affectionately. "Thanks, mate. What did you do with him?" Merlin responded to him with a variety of chirrups and musical sounds, which made Harry grin.

"What?" Ginny prompted.

"He took him to Sebastian," Harry chuckled.

"Sebastian didn't eat him, did he?" Dumbledore said in concern.

"No. He was still dunking him when Merlin came back."

"Eat him?" Madam Bones said, gazing at Dumbledore uneasily. "Who's this Sebastian?"

"Our squid," Dumbledore replied. He turned his eyes to the phoenix still standing protectively over Harry. "Merlin, old friend," Dumbledore said warmly, "thank you. Would you mind bringing him back now? If that's all right with Harry, of course," he added, bowing a bit in the boy's direction. Merlin, after all, was Harry's phoenix and if he were a real phoenix instead of the wizard Great Merlin permanently transfigured into a phoenix, he wouldn't listen to any wizard but his own. Publicly acknowledging Harry's ownership of the phoenix was necessary to maintain Merlin's secret.

"It's okay, mate," Harry told the bird. "Go on." With that, the phoenix flashed out of sight, returning soon after with a bedraggled, soggy man who was shrieking like a young girl.

"Ah. Bozo, I believe?" Dumbledore said, recognizing the man as Rita Skeeter's favourite photographer. "And that means Harry's right - this must be Rita Skeeter. Am I correct?" he asked the man now shivering on the floor.

"I ain't sayin' nuthin'," he growled when he regained his composure.

"We won't need you to in a while," Dumbledore said calmly. "She will revert to her true form before long. But if you help us, things might go easier for you in court."

"I didn' do nuthin' wrong!" Bozo declared defiantly.

"I can think of quite a few laws you've broken," Madam Bones said, looking at him sternly. "Participating in the impersonation of a public official; accessory to a wide variety of things; sneaking into Hogwarts without permission - I could go on, but you do face at least three years in Azkaban for the obvious charges. I'm certain we can dig around a bit and find other laws you've broken."

"Yes, she's Rita Skeeter!" Bozo said, his eyes bulging. "Don't send me to Azkaban! It was all her idea!"

"Thank you. I will want a full confession from you, and to know who in my office told you I'd be here, and where you got my hair for the potion," Madam Bones said sternly.

"Yeah, sure!" he agreed, eager to please the Minister now. "It was Flora Fogg told us when you'd be here, and gave us some hairs she lifted from your cloak."

"Flora Fogg. She's one of the holdovers from Fudge's administration. She won't be employed for long," Madam Bones said, her face hard and stern. "Why did she do this?"

"Rita paid her," Bozo said. "Twenty galleons."

Madam Bones looked a bit ill and made a disgusted sound as she glared at Bozo, then at the woman lying wide-eyed and nervous on the floor. Madam Bones made a sudden movement that looked as if she was tempted to kick the other woman, but restrained herself. With a visible effort, she calmed herself, then turned to Harry.

"What did she say that told you she wasn't me? And how did you do that to her?" she said, glaring down at the trussed woman, a small smile playing around her lips. "That's quite an interesting hex. I suppose you got tired of listening to her?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said, trying to turn on his side and look at the woman on the floor. He groaned and gave up the effort.

"Oh, Harry! It's time for your potion," Ginny said, bending over him and wiping the pain-induced sweat from his face. "There was a note for me when I returned. Madam Pomfrey had to leave for a while - some Hufflepuffs bought some bogus Memory Enhancing Potion and are so ill that she had to go to their dormitories to take care of them." She shook her head in disgust. "She didn't think I'd be gone so long. It's my fault."

"No--" Harry began.

"Don't argue with me," Ginny said sternly. "Madam Pomfrey and I didn't communicate clearly enough with each other and this," she gestured impatiently at the bound woman on the floor, "is the result. It won't happen again." She brushed the hair back from his damp forehead. "I know where your potions are. I'll go and get them for you." She looked up at Dumbledore. "Professor? Can you look after him for a few minutes?"

"Of course."

"Wait a minute. How do we know who you are?" she said suddenly.

Dumbledore led her outside the curtained area so Bozo and the impostor wouldn't see what he was doing, then flashed into phoenix form and back into himself again. "Is that good enough?"


"Yes," Ginny said in relief as she parted the curtains and returned to Harry's bedside. "It's hard, not knowing who to trust."

"Hopefully, those days are behind us now," Madam Bones said, looking significantly at Harry, "thanks to you, young man."

He returned her gaze, wondering what was going through her mind.

Ginny glanced from Dumbledore to Madam Bones to Harry and saw the pain in his eyes despite his best efforts to hide it. "I'll be right back!" she said, then dashed out to get his dose for him.

"So what did I do to her?" Harry said, curious despite his pain. The bound woman was still lying on the floor, just out of his line of sight.

"You don't know?" Dumbledore said with amusement. "Here, let me show you." With that, he Levitated the woman just high enough for Harry to see that she had a huge metal zipper where her mouth should be, and it was zipped tightly shut.

Harry laughed, then coughed, grabbing his chest in pain. "Oh no. That's funny. That hurts! Owwww." He grinned at his grandfather when the pain subsided a bit.

"How did you do this?" Dumbledore asked, genuinely curious. "I haven't seen this hex before."

"Probably because wizards don't use zippers unless they have Muggle clothes," Harry said, relaxing against his pillows again. "I told her to 'zip it' - I just wanted her to be quiet."

"What wand motion did you use? Just tell me," Dumbledore said quickly, holding his hand up in warning as Harry started to make a gesture.

"Oh. Yeah. Erm, it was kind of a diagonal slashing motion," he replied. He knew his magic was out of his control, dangerously so, if simply saying something and whipping his wand through the air could result in the woman's lips being literally zipped shut. He didn't dare make any gestures that could accidentally cast spells, with or without his wand.

"Ah. Very interesting! We'll have to experiment with that when you're stronger," the headmaster said, looking quite amused. His expression darkened as he looked down at the woman on the floor. "You have bothered Harry for the very last time, I do believe. You endangered his life by coming in here."

"How so?" Madam Bones asked, looking from Dumbledore to Harry, who was now obediently opening his mouth for Ginny to give him his potion.

"He's not supposed to do any magic until he's stronger," Ginny snapped. "It could cause a serious setback."

"I see. Then her visit truly was life-threatening?" Madam Bones said, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed.

"Excellent. I've been looking for a way to put her in Azkaban for a long, long time. I think we finally have it," the Minister said with satisfaction. "How do you feel, Mr. Potter? Is the potion helping?"

"Yes," he said, but he was still pale, sweaty and breathing much too rapidly.

"I don't want to tire you. Let me get your testimony and then I'll take these prisoners and leave, all right?" she said kindly. He nodded. "I'll put a Recording Charm on this parchment," she said, pulling a small roll of blank parchment out of her pocket. "It will record your voice so we can use it as testimony in court. Is this all right with you?" He nodded. "Please answer verbally, so the Recording Charm can begin," she instructed.

"Yes, it's fine," he said in as strong a voice as he could.

"Now then, state your full name for the record, and then tell me what happened."

Harry told her the story as well as he could, but he was tiring and he still couldn't breathe that well. It took quite a while for him to explain everything.

"Well done, Mr. Potter. Thank you," Madam Bones said with a smile. "I was here to meet with Professor Dumbledore today, and apparently this assistant of mine decided twenty galleons was enough to betray both you and me. I suppose she thought no harm would be done. She will be sorry for making such a decision, I promise you that." She glanced at the woman on the floor, who had changed into Rita Skeeter just a few minutes ago. "I'll take these two out of your room and let you rest. I'm sorry you were disturbed."

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

"Take care of yourself, Mr. Potter. I'll see you at the Leaving Feast," she said, then roughly hoisted Rita to her feet and prodded her in the back with her wand. "Move!" Madam Bones ordered, suddenly sounding very much like the Auror she had once been. Rita and Bozo trudged slowly out of the hospital wing, Madam Bones and Dumbledore right on their heels.

"Well, that was more excitement than I needed this afternoon," Ginny said, sitting in the chair with a heavy sigh. "How are you?"

"Tired. Hungry. Sleepy," he admitted.

"You must feel awful to actually admit those things," she teased. "What would you like to eat? Or do you want a nap first?"

"Food, then nap," he said. A short time later, a house-elf arrived with a new tray of food, which Ginny fed carefully to her love. His meal was filled with soft laughter, quiet talk and smiles. After eating and drinking barely enough to keep his stomach from growling, he fell asleep.

Ginny sat back in her chair and sighed, wondering how she could possibly leave him to take her exams, if a trip to the loo and kitchen was long enough for him to be accosted by Rita Skeeter? She shook her head in frustration, then bent over him and removed his glasses. He'd drifted off while they were talking, and now was sleeping quite soundly. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, then bent and kissed his forehead. "I love you," she whispered, then sat back in her chair, her hand on his arm, and fell asleep herself.

* * * * *

Harry's four days in bed passed very slowly. Exams were starting, so his friends couldn't stay with him. Dumbledore visited as often as he could, catching Harry up on what was going on in the outside world, telling him stories about his relatives, and building a grandfather-grandson relationship on top of the mentor-apprentice one. Since teachers and staff members, as well as students, were all so busy, Dobby came to sit with Harry so he wouldn't be alone. Anyone who passed through the curtains into Harry's enclosure was met with a fiercely protective house-elf who demanded several kinds of identification before allowing the person near his master. Harry was both touched and amused by Dobby's tactics and unwavering loyalty. Finally, Harry was free.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny escorted Harry to the Great Hall for his first meal after his recovery. They stayed close together, their hands on the wands in their pockets, ready for trouble, but the atmosphere in the Hall was cheerful and welcoming. People stopped by the table to greet Harry, who most had not seen at all since the battle except for that one brief moment before Blaise Zabini and his friends had attacked him.

"Hey, Harry!" Colin Creevey said cheerfully. "It's great to have you back! You feeling OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now, Colin, thanks," Harry said with a smile.

"Harry! Welcome back!" Neville said excitedly. "I've missed you!"

"Thanks, Neville! It's great to be back. I missed you guys too. I heard you were brilliant during the battle," Harry said, grinning.

"Alex and I had a fight on our hands, yeah," Neville agreed modestly. "I can't believe Professor Snape survived. We were sure he was dead!"

"Yeah, that's what I heard," Harry agreed.

"He's really different since he came back to school," Neville said, leaning in to speak more privately.

"Really? How?"

"I dunno, he's . . . not as nasty somehow."

"Neville's right," Ron agreed, shovelling another huge forkful of food into his mouth. "Snabe's nob islf - 's nobschub gt."

"Really," Harry said, amused.

Ron made a massive effort at swallowing. "Yeah! You wouldn't believe it."

"Harry!" Ravenclaw Alex McCullough said. "It's great to see you! Are you OK now? We heard you were in bad shape after the battle - and then that git attacked you when you returned to school! Unbelievable!"

"Hi, Alex! I'm fine, thanks. It's good to see you. I heard you fought brilliantly." Harry grinned at the younger boy, proud that Alex had managed his part of the battle as well as he had.

Alex blushed. "I didn't think the Healer Squad members would have to fight like that. I'm glad we had the training, too, or we would have been in serious trouble!"

"It's always good to be prepared for the worst," Harry said philosophically.

"Yeah," Alex agreed. After a few more minutes of conversation, he moved back to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry looked around the Great Hall, happier than he'd been in a long, long time. Everyone seemed glad to see him - except many of the Slytherins, of course, but at least they were leaving him alone. Those who'd been injured in the battle all seemed to be doing well. There were only a few people still on crutches or with canes. On the whole, everyone was in remarkably good shape for having been in battle just a few weeks ago. Despite their injuries, temporary or permanent, the overall mood was ebullient.


"It's exam time," Harry mused to Hermione. "Why is everyone so cheerful?"

"Because Voldemort's dead and you're back with us," she replied. "There are still people stressing over exams, of course, but the mood in the wizarding world at large is quite different now that Voldemort's gone. I've been saving the newspapers and magazines for you to read when you feel like it."

"Thanks," he said, thinking it might be a long time before he wanted to read about the battle and its aftermath.

"What are you going to do with your time now, Harry?" Hermione asked as she buttered her toast.

"What do you mean?"

"You've missed too many classes to manage the exams, haven't you?" she said. "I mean, you'd planned to take the exams for the three subjects you continued after becoming Dumbledore's apprentice, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"You've missed so many classes now, it will be difficult for you to pass N.E.W.T.-level exams, and you couldn't study much while you were in the hospital wing or St. Mungo's," she continued.

"I tried to study, but I kept falling asleep," he admitted. "And when you or Ginny or Ron read to me, it was just a pleasant buzz in my head. The words didn't stick."

"You were in a lot of pain and on so many potions, a lot of times you couldn't even speak coherently," Ginny said sympathetically. "It's no wonder you didn't understand what we were reading to you."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Yeah. I remember trying to tell you something very simple and I just could not find the words or get them in the proper order. It was quite frustrating."

"And rather funny to listen to at times!" she teased.

"That's right, pick on poor injured Harry," he whinged.

She stretched up and kissed his cheek, a happy smile on her face. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back!"


"So what are you going to do?" Hermione said, getting back on track. "About your exams, or with your free time, whichever it turns out to be."

Harry thought a moment. "I don't know. You're right, I've missed too much class and don't have time to make it up now."

"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron assured him. "The Auror School doesn't care if you take any exams, remember? You already know more spells than some of them!"

"Yeah, but . . .," Harry began.

"But what?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Well - ever since we entered Hogwarts, we've heard about the N.E.W.T.s. It just seems odd to finish school without taking any."

"If you want to try, we'll help you study," Hermione promised.

"Tell you what," Harry said finally. "I'll just plan on taking the Potions N.E.W.T. and not worry about the others. That one's near the end of exams, right?" Hermione nodded. "So I have time to revise for it," he said optimistically.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Ron jibed. "If I could get out of taking it, I would!"

Harry smiled at his best friend. He didn't expect Ron to understand. Harry barely understood it himself. "It's something I want to do. I can't explain it."

"Since you've missed so much class, I'll give you my notes to copy while Ron and I work on our Charms revision this morning, how's that?" Hermione offered.

"Great! Thanks," Harry said, amazed at how happy the thought of doing something normal like homework again made him.

* * * * *

Harry had studied hard and now was standing at his work station making Veritaserum, which was the task set for this N.E.W.T.-level exam. The test was three hours long, and he'd need every minute of that time to get the potion right. To be effective, the potion would need a full moon-cycle to cure, but the mixing itself took exactly three hours. He'd carefully laid out his ingredients in the order in which he needed to add them, and was opening the ingredient containers only when he was ready to use that particular item. This very useful system was something he'd learned while working for the twins in their shop. It worked much better than the haphazard way he and his friends had always worked, with ingredients lying all over the table, asking each other to pass the powered horned toad horn or the blistered ferret spleen when those things were needed.

He'd chosen to stand to work, rather than sitting on a stool as they normally did in class, because he could work faster and see his arrangement of containers better from a standing position. It was now nearly two hours into the exam, and Harry was fully concentrated on his work.

Snape came up from behind him, leaned toward his ear and murmured, "Are you all right, Mr. Potter?"


"Huh?" Harry said, so badly startled that he almost spilled his potion. "Sorry?"

"Are you all right?" Snape repeated.

"I'm fine! Why?" he said, locking his eyes back on his work so he wouldn't lose his place.

"You're pale. You're shaking. I think you need to sit down."

"What?" Harry said, finally giving the man his full attention.

"Professor Snape!" Professor Tofty said reprovingly. "Why are you disturbing that student?"

"He was discharged from the hospital wing recently. He looks pale and shaky to me. I think he needs to sit down." He waved his wand, Summoning a tall stool to him. He shoved the stool at Harry. "Sit."

Harry looked at the man in stunned confusion. What the bloody hell is going on? he wondered. He glanced at the stool and decided it would be easier to cooperate than to argue, so he sat down, then turned back to his potion. Where was he? He'd lost time talking to Snape and he needed every single second to finish this potion in the allotted period! What did he need to do now? What should he add next?

Calm down, he told himself sternly. You can do this. He took a deep breath and looked at his containers, one after the other. The lid was partly off of the container of powdered dragonfly wings. That was it. He'd been about to add that. No, wait. Was he closing that one when Snape interrupted him? He glanced up, glaring furiously at his professor's departing back as Snape prowled through the other work stations proctoring the exam. Suddenly, Harry's brain clunked into place and he remembered. Add one pinch of powdered dragonfly wings. Stir seven times clockwise, two times counter-clockwise, then add three nasturtium petals and let it simmer for ten minutes. Pound three slices of dragon tongue quite thin, mince them, raise the heat on the cauldron, then add the tongue, stirring constantly for three minutes. Great! He was back on track.

He glanced at his watch. He was working too slowly; he wouldn't be finished in time! Harry used his magic to speed up his motions in preparing the ingredients - that could be hurried with no problem, but the stirring and cooking had to be done with precision.

"Potter, are you quite all right?" Snape said a bit later, suddenly in his face again.


"What?" Harry responded, startled. "Yeah. Fine." He went back to work, doing his best to ignore the man.

"I know what potions you're still on for your illness, and when they're due. You're late," Snape hissed.

"I'm fine," Harry hissed back. "Please, let me finish my work!"

"Professor Snape, I must protest!" Professor Tofty said again. "Leave Mr. Potter alone!" The other students in the class were now watching the exchange between the two professors and Harry quite openly.

Harry glanced across the room at Ron and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Ron shrugged, not knowing any more than Harry what was going on. Glancing at Hermione, who was several tables away from both him and Ron, Harry saw her tilt her head toward her cauldron, indicating they should each get back to work. Harry nodded and sighed, then pointedly ignored the man still hovering near him and added his next ingredient.

Snape stalked to the back of the room and stood next to the wizened old man, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Professor, what is the problem?" Tofty said quietly. "Why are you bothering Mr. Potter?"

"I told you, he's just been released from the hospital wing. He's still on two potions, and I know he's past due for his next dose," Snape snapped.

"Is it life-threatening for him to be past-due?" Tofty asked acerbically.

"It could very well be," Snape growled, startling the older man.

Tofty pondered a moment, then sighed and said, "He's of age, so you can't force him to take his potion if he doesn't want to. You've already asked him how he is, and he says he's fine. Now leave him alone so he can finish. If he feels the need for his potions, he'll say something, I'm sure. He's quite an intelligent young man. Let him make his own decisions."

Snape made a huffy, impatient sound, but simply crossed his arms and glared at Harry for the rest of the exam time.

Harry worked feverishly. Magically speeding up his preparation time had helped him regain the time he'd lost from Snape's interruptions and distractions. When Professor Tofty called time for the end of the exam, Harry sighed and smiled in satisfaction. He had a perfectly clear, odourless potion, with exactly the right consistency. He filled not one, but three crystal vials with his samples in case Snape damaged the one he turned in, as the evil git had done so many times before. When he finished labelling the vials, he handed one to Professor Tofty, who was going from table to table collecting samples in a rack.


"Are you feeling quite well, Mr. Potter?" Tofty asked in concern.


"Yes, I'm fine," Harry assured the man.

"Professor Snape is right. You do look ill," Tofty said, frowning as he studied the young man's face.

"I'm a bit tired, that's all," Harry replied. "Thanks." He started cleaning up his things, suddenly feeling a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He would never, ever have Severus Snape as a teacher again! That realization made him look up and grin happily at Ron.

Ron looked grumpy. Snape's interrupting Harry's work had distracted Ron greatly and he'd had a lot of trouble finding his place and moving on. Apparently he'd made a mistake at that point, so his potion hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped it would. It was lumpy and had congealed a bit before he'd dipped out the sample to turn in. He knew he wouldn't get as good a grade as he'd hoped for, but at least, he hoped, he wouldn't get a "T" for "Troll," the absolutely worst grade Hogwarts teachers gave. He'd accept a "D" for "Dreadful" if he had to, but he'd prefer an "A" for "Acceptable." But a "T"? He sighed, then glanced up and saw Harry's bright grin. "What?"

Harry moved across the room and whispered in his ear, "We never have to take a class from Snape again!" then laughed out loud.

"Yeah, you're right!" Ron said, his heart lifting tremendously.

"What's he right about?" Hermione said, joining them.

As Ron started to respond, Snape called, "Potter! Come here, please."

Harry nodded and walked resolutely toward the front of the room.


"In my office," Snape said quietly.

"Why?" Harry said, suddenly on guard.

"I have your potions here. I was making a new supply for Madam Pomfrey. You're overdue for them," Snape said, apparently annoyed at having to explain something that should be so obvious to his thick-headed student.

"Oh. Thanks," Harry said, following the man into his office.

Ron and Hermione moved across the room and hovered outside the door, which Snape left open when he saw them standing there. "He won't be long," he sneered.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but what's your password for Harry?" Hermione said politely.

"He saved my life," Snape responded immediately. "Happy?"

"Yes, thank you."

Snape turned back into his office. "Sit down, Potter, before you fall down," he snapped. "I have your potions over here. I'll measure out your doses." He matched action to words and soon turned to face Harry, a small vial in each hand. "Open."

Harry opened his mouth obediently and tried not to flinch too much at the awful taste of both potions. He coughed a bit, then choked out, "Thanks."

"Many people have gone to a great deal of trouble to get you well, Potter," Snape said silkily. "You need to take your potions on time for the next two days to ensure you don't have a relapse. A relapse of the Lead Lung Curse is nearly always fatal, you know."

"The Curse itself is nearly always fatal, too," Harry retorted before he could stop himself. He tried to amend his gaffe by adding, "or so I've been told."

"And yet you survived it. Don't tempt fate by having a relapse, Potter. You may not be so fortunate the next time."

As the Potions Master put the used vials in a rack on a shelf to be cleaned, his sleeve slipped back a bit, reminding Harry of something.

"Sir?"

"What is it?"

"May I see your Dark Mark?" Harry asked politely.

Snape frowned. "Why?"

"I remember removing it, but I didn't get all of it, did I?" Harry said. "I'd like to see what's left."

Snape pushed his sleeve up and held his arm out for Harry to see. The snake was the only thing that remained, and it was still quite stubbornly dark. There was no trace of the skull part of the Mark.

"I had an idea, sir," Harry said as he examined the Mark. "May I try something?"

"You're supposed to be using only minimal amounts of magic, Potter, and you just spent three hours taking an exam," Snape warned him. "You'll overtire yourself."

"I'm not that tired, and I won't be using magic. I'll be using Parseltongue," Harry said, a curious look on his face.

"Harry," Hermione warned, "he's right. You used magic today to take your exam. You should rest."

"Speaking Parseltongue doesn't require me to use magic," Harry told her, glancing at her over his shoulder. "It's just talking. I'm not too tired to talk." She pressed her lips together and subsided into an unhappy silence. Harry looked at his professor again. "May I?"

"As long as you don't overexert yourself," Snape replied, holding out his arm and sitting in the chair opposite Harry's.

"I'll be careful," Harry promised. He held the man's forearm in both hands, supporting it with his left hand while cupping the right one over the image of the snake. He began speaking in Parseltongue, the odd, hissing sounds unnerving to those who heard it.

Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway now, watching their friend uneasily.

Harry stopped speaking and lifted his hand. The snake's image had gone from black to bright green and seemed larger, somehow.

"What happened?" Hermione cried. "It seems to be growing! It's brighter, and--"

"It's coming out, but it's fighting me," Harry said, his jaw getting that familiar stubborn set to it and his eyes fiercely determined as he shook his head. "But it is coming out." He cupped his hand over it and bent forward, concentrating hard as he went back to hissing in Parseltongue.

"I wonder what he's saying?" Ron murmured.

"Probably something like, 'go away!'" Hermione said with a shrug.

"That's a lot of talking for 'go away,'" Ron said, smiling down at her.

"I don't know what else he could be saying, do you?" she said, glancing up at her boyfriend.


"No."

"If you two don't shut up," Snape snarled, glaring up at them over Harry's bowed head.

"Sorry," Hermione said, chastened. She and Ron were joined in the doorway by Tofty, who began to question what was going on. "Come with me, Professor," Hermione offered, "and I'll explain. Harry needs quiet to work."

"No, I don't," Harry said in his own voice. He turned and looked at her. "You're not bothering me."

"Are you all right?" she said, concerned. His face was pale, with bright red patches on his cheeks and a sheen of light sweat glowing on his skin.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said dismissively, then went back to work on Snape's arm.

Hermione gazed at him in concern, but knew there was no way to stop him once he decided to do something. She took Tofty out into the classroom and explained what was going on, and then the two of them returned to the office doorway, where Ron stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropped, a look of horror on his face.

"Harry! Stop! Let go of him!" Ron cried, moving toward his friend.


"Don't touch him, Ron!" Hermione warned. "Remember what Dumbledore said."

"Yeah, I know. It could be dangerous if we touch him when he's like this," Ron said darkly. "Harry, please! Stop!"

Harry was surrounded by a bright golden aura, showing that he was using every bit of his magical power. Bright sparks came from his wildly blowing hair and his fingers, the sparks from his hand spiralling down to the snake's image on Snape's arm. He was still murmuring a long string of hisses. There seemed to be answering sibilance from time to time, almost as if he was conversing with the snake on Snape's arm. Harry's body was now shaking violently, but despite everything, he was still bent over Snape's forearm, concentrating on his task.

"Harry!" Hermione keened. "You're not supposed to use so much magic right now! Stop before you hurt yourself!"

"Potter, stop! Don't do this. Let go!" Snape said urgently. He'd been repeating this for some minutes, but apparently Harry was so involved in his spell that he couldn't hear him. The Potions Master tried again and again to pull his arm away, to no effect. Harry wouldn't, or couldn't, let go.

Finally, Harry gasped, clutched his chest and fell forward, out of his chair and onto the floor. The golden aura disappeared instantly. Ron, Hermione and Tofty rushed to Harry's side while Snape stared in shock at his now pristine white arm. There was no sign that there had ever been a Dark Mark on his arm. "I don't believe it," he murmured.

"MERLIN! Harry needs you!" Hermione called, holding her wand aloft. With a flash of light, the phoenix appeared, grabbed Harry's robes in his talons and took off for the hospital wing without being told what to do. Hermione and Ron held on to his tail and went along so they'd be able to tell Madam Pomfrey what had happened.

Snape sat gazing at his arm in shocked fascination for a moment longer, then stood, grabbed the cauldrons of potions he'd made for Harry's illness, and raced out of the door, followed slowly by the still-confused Tofty.

"But what happened? What's wrong with Mr. Potter? Where's everyone going?" Tofty called plaintively as Snape raced away from him.

"Hospital wing," Snape snapped as he whipped around a corner, out of Tofty's sight.

The old man sighed, then trudged slowly up the many flights of stairs to the hospital wing, wishing he, too, had a phoenix to take him places quickly.

* * * * *

"He what?" Madam Pomfrey said in shock. "He was told he could only do small bits of magic for two more days! I thought he understood!"

"I know," Hermione said miserably. "Nothing we said would stop him."

"Miss Granger, call my brother and Bradford at St. Mungo's," the nurse said distractedly as she opened Harry's robes to examine him. Hermione ran to the fireplace to contact the healers.

"How is he?" Ron asked, worried. He'd just used the Famous Wizard Card to let Ginny, Remus and Dumbledore know Harry was ill again.

Snape arrived and set the new batches of potion on the bedside table, then bent over Harry next to Madam Pomfrey, his face, like hers, furrowed in concern.

"Do you have any ideas, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she frantically examined the unconscious boy. "What should we do next?"

"Is it just his lungs that are injured?" Snape asked after a moment. "Or is there something else wrong with him?"

"What else could be wrong with him?" she asked, giving him a startled look. "What happened?"

"He removed the snake from my arm, from the Dark Mark. It fought him. I think it was cursed and may have done something to him," Snape said darkly.

Hermione had just returned from calling the healers and gasped when she heard Snape's comment, but Ron was the one with the worst reaction.

"Well, of course it would be cursed," Ron said in disgust. "Voldemort put it there! What did he ever touch that wasn't cursed? Bloody hell, Harry, what have you got into now?" He moved away from the bed, pacing furiously, unable to watch his best friend suffer any longer.

Hermione followed him a few steps and tried to calm him. "Ron, he knew what he was doing," she began.

He whirled around and glared at her. "No, he didn't! He thought he was taking off something like a tattoo. The rest of it wasn't much more than a tattoo, he told me that. He didn't know the snake would come alive and talk back to him, or curse him! He just walked into it blindly, doing his hero thing, and now Ginny's going to make herself ill trying to save him again, and Harry . . . Harry . . . ."

Ron shook his head, then rubbed his face hard, frustration, fury and fear making him tremble on the edge of tears as he stared at his desperately ill best friend. "Harry, you great prat, you were almost well! Why? Snape could have lived with that Mark for the rest of his life! Why, Harry? Why did you do it? It's not as if someone attacked you, or him! You did this one to yourself, mate! Sometimes you're your own worst enemy, do you know that? Damn!" He started pacing again, muttering, "Gah!" and "Shit!" and "Bloody damned freakin' hell!" under his breath.

Hermione was torn between trying to calm Ron down and hovering over Harry. She stood uncertainly halfway between them, glancing from the raging and grieving Ron to poor Harry, who was struggling valiantly for his life again. She noticed Snape and the nurse straightening up as they finished examining Harry. "How is he?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not good," Madam Pomfrey said darkly. "What do you think, Severus?"

"I'd give him the Spitting Daisy Poultice for now," he replied tersely. "I gave him the curse antidote potion and his pain potion after his exam. They were about an hour late. I don't know why he didn't take them during the exam. I told him he was past due for them."

"There's a rule against taking potions during exams, Professor," Hermione reminded him. "No potions of any kind, or you're disqualified from the exam."

"I would have known what he was taking and excused it!" Snape snapped.

"He had no way of knowing that," Hermione said miserably. "None of us thought about asking permission before the exam. We were too concentrated on doing well on it. We all knew the rules, Professor. Harry was just trying to follow them."

"He would pick today to start following the rules," Snape growled, thoroughly annoyed with Harry for finally doing what he was supposed to, rather than what was best for him.

* * * * *

A short time later, the hospital wing doors banged open. "What happened?" Ginny demanded as she stormed into the room, Remus and Dumbledore following her closely.

Hermione told them how Harry had been injured this time.

"Why would he do that? He could have waited a few days and been strong enough to do it," Ginny moaned. "Harry, what is wrong with you?"

"I think it's his 'saving people thing,'" Hermione said thoughtfully. "I believe he saw a chance to take care of the rest of Professor Snape's Dark Mark and wouldn't rest until he'd finished."

"How could you let him do it?" Ginny demanded, standing toe to toe with Snape. "He could die from this! Look at him! He looks awful! He can barely breathe! How could you?"

"I tried to stop him, Miss Weasley, but I couldn't get free. He . . . he wouldn't let go," Snape said, shaking his head in disbelief. He'd tried his best, but could not wrest his arm away from Harry's grip.

"Did a simple Expelliarmus ever occur to you? I can't believe you let him hurt himself this way! I knew you hated him, but you may have killed him, you bastard!" She pulled out her wand, prepared to hex him, but Hermione grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Get off, Hermione! He deserves it!"

"You're not wrong, Miss Weasley," Snape said quietly, shocking all of them into momentary stillness. "I should not have let him look at it today. He . . . well, I made a mistake. I am very sorry. I'm doing everything I can to help him get well."


"Then get busy!" Ginny said, pointing her wand at him again.

"Ginny, put your wand away," Remus said patiently. He and Dumbledore had been conferring with the nurse while Ginny raged at Snape. "Hexes won't do anyone any good right now. Harry needs your strength, not your anger."


She lowered her wand and looked at her boyfriend, who was gasping for breath. Her shoulders slumped for a moment, but then she squared them and tried to think practically. "Where's the tank? We need to put water in it again."

"I don't think the tank will help this time. It's not just his lungs. His whole system has been attacked somehow," Madam Pomfrey said sadly. "He's barely hanging on."

"Well, do something!" Ginny demanded.

"Professor Snape gave him potions a short time ago, and I've just applied the poultice," the nurse replied. "We have to wait a bit and see if they help."

Marcus Pomfrey and Healer Bradford arrived minutes later, and checked their patient. They couldn't believe Harry had taken such a chance with his life, either.

"He did understand it could kill him to do anything more than minimal magic until he was completely well, right?" Marcus demanded of his sister. She nodded. "And he knew he'd be well enough to do any magic he wanted in two more days, didn't he?"

"Yes," she said, wringing her hands uneasily. She'd done everything she knew how to do and nothing had helped much so far. "I reminded him of everything you said. I can't imagine--"

"He said he just wanted to look at it and try the Parseltongue," Snape murmured, shaking his head. "He said it wouldn't take magic, it was just speaking in another language. I think he believed that. He didn't seem to think he was taking a risk of any kind."

"Harry's right, it really is just another language in a way. He shouldn't have to use magic to speak it," Bradford muttered, listening to the conversation around him as he examined his young patient. "I can't sort out how using Parseltongue would hurt him so badly."

"I can," Dumbledore said bleakly. He'd been standing quietly against the wall, watching his beloved grandson fight for his life, listening to what had happened, and wondering what had caused his collapse. He'd finally come to what he considered a logical conclusion. "I think it was a last attack from Voldemort."

"WHAT?" everyone gasped.

He turned to Ron and Hermione. "You said it seemed as if he was having a conversation with the snake? You heard more hisses than just his?" They nodded. "Yes, that fits," he murmured, then stood lost in thought for a moment, watching the healers working frantically to save Harry's life.

Harry's lungs were hardening again and his breaths were coming in painful gasps. Bradford put a crystal funnel over the young wizard's nose and mouth and attached a bag to the small end of it, squeezing it every few seconds, which released a mist-like potion for Harry to inhale. Several breaths later, he was breathing a bit easier and his colour improved somewhat. Meanwhile, Marcus was casting spells on Harry repeatedly, with little effect. He growled in frustration from time to time.

Dumbledore watched their activity and sighed. "I suspect Lord Voldemort put a - shall we say 'security measure' - in the Dark Marks to ensure no one could remove them. He never reckoned on anyone like Harry caring enough to try to complete the task despite the obstacles involved." He smiled at his grandson sadly. "Harry willingly lays his life on the line to help other people. We need to talk him out of that habit," he said, winking at Ginny. She looked as if she could do with some cheering up.

She rewarded him with a watery smile. "You honestly think we could?"

"Not really. But it's worth the effort." He looked at the healers, who were now straightening up from their work and conferring with Snape. "How is he?"

When they finished their discussion with the Potions Master, Bradford turned to answer the headmaster. "I won't lie to you. It doesn't look good. There's something very seriously wrong with him beyond the excessive use of magic and the relapse of the Lead Lung Curse, but we can't tell what it is."

"Perhaps I can help," Dumbledore said. He cast the spell that enveloped Harry in a golden grid. "The brightest spots will be the most recently cast spells," he told the healers.

"I hadn't thought of a Spell-Revealing Charm," Bradford said, shaking his head. "It's an old method, but a good one. Here, look at this," he said, pointing to two particular spots. "Those are the spells you just cast, Marcus."


"Yes, and they did no good," Marcus sighed.

"Look here," Dumbledore said, prodding a particularly virulent-looking mass of green blobs near Harry's right wrist. "What are these?"

"I don't know," Marcus said, poking it with his wand.

"It looks like . . . it can't be, though," Bradford said, leaning in for a closer look.

"Like what?"

"Look past the grid at his skin. Bloody hell. It's a snake bite," Bradford said in surprise. Numerous faint fang marks appeared to be tattooed across the network of veins on the inside of the young man's wrist. "Those marks didn't show up before. The grid brought them out. Amazing."

"He had his right hand over my arm," Snape said, looking stunned as realization hit. "His wrist was over the snake's mouth."

"His skin isn't broken! And the Mark was like a tattoo, not a real snake!" Hermione said, shocked by the healer's comment.

"A magical snake bite," Bradford said. "It's a spell that replicates the effects of a snake bite. I suspect these fang marks mean there's a magical form of venom in his body. Harry must have fought it off with his Parseltongue, or he'd be dead now." He turned to the nurse. "Poppy, I need a snake-stone. Do you have one?"

"Yes. Hang on," she said, hurrying to her office.


"What's a snake-stone?" Hermione said anxiously.

"It draws out the venom," Bradford said distractedly. "We'll need some sour milk or hot water, too."

"I know," the nurse called from her office. "I have milk, but it isn't sour."

"I can sour it, no problem," Bradford said. "Hurry!" He glanced up at Dumbledore, Remus and Marcus. "Do you know how to remove spells from these grids?"

"Yes," they all replied.


"Let's get started, then." He joined them in prodding the horrible green spots on Harry's grid, trying to wiggle them free from each other so they could be removed.


"But this isn't a real snake bite, nor real venom!" Hermione argued. "What possible good--"

"Trust me on this," Bradford said. He took the bowl of milk Madam Pomfrey handed him and muttered an incantation over it, souring it instantly. He turned to Ginny. "Hold this," he said, handing her the bowl. "His wrist must stay submerged until I tell you to move it. Keep your hand away from the milk."

"OK," Ginny said, pushing Harry's hand and wrist beneath the surface of the soured milk and holding it there, being careful not to touch the milk herself.

Bradford dropped the small stone Madam Pomfrey handed him into the milk, then stood watching the effect for a moment. The milk was turning a very pale shade of sickly green.

"What's that?" Ginny said, worried.

"The venom. The stone is working. You're doing very well, Ginny. Don't move," he said. He turned back to the grid over Harry's body and joined Dumbledore, Remus and Marcus in picking at the mass of green blobs hovering over his arm, trying to disentangle them from the grid lines.

"He took a lot of hits from the snake, and yet managed to keep the damage contained. How did he do that?" Bradford said, mostly to himself.

"We never saw the snake bite, or him react as if he was bitten," Ron said in confusion. "He was talking to the snake, and it talked back to him. Was it biting him when it was talking?"

"I suppose," Bradford said, still working on the blobs on Harry's grid. Suddenly, the entire mass came loose from the grid and disappeared. Harry's body flinched hard and he gasped when the spell was released.

"What happened?" Ginny said, desperately afraid for Harry.

"We just broke the snake's spell," Bradford said, "and what you're doing is removing the magical venom in his body. It wasn't a real snake, so it isn't real venom, but some kind of spell that mimics venom's effects. See? His colour is better. He's still suffering the effects of the Lead Lung Curse, but the poison is coming out of his system. Look at the snake-stone itself. Don't remove it from the milk, just tilt the bowl to bring it toward the surface a bit. It should be turning green. Is it?"

"Yes, the colour's quite strong," Ginny said in surprise. "The milk isn't as green as it was."

"The stone is absorbing the venom from the milk. The milk doesn't draw the poison out, but it activates the stone, which then takes the poison out of the victim. Snake-stones are an old but still useful remedy," Bradford said with satisfaction. "We couldn't possibly have come up with an antidote for that snake's venom quickly enough, if one could even be created." He glanced at Snape. "Did you know this curse was on the Mark?"

"I had no idea, or I would never have allowed Potter to try to remove it in the first place," Snape said, shaking his head. "The Dark Lord liked his little secrets. He often had surprises hidden within spells he cast on his followers. He thought they were funny, or that they would, at least, make us more obedient." As he spoke, his sneered, a look of loathing on his face.

"Nice guy," Ron said snidely.

"Indeed," Snape agreed.

Bradford pointed his wand at the bowl of milk and muttered an incantation which brought the stone to the surface. "I think that's finished," he said with satisfaction. "All right, let's get him cleaned up," he added, taking the bowl and stone away from Ginny as Madam Pomfrey handed the girl a towel to dry Harry's arm.

"Look," Ginny said as she wiped his arm. "The bite mark's gone!"

"Excellent! I think we caught it just in time," Bradford said. "He's beginning to improve now."

"How long before he's well again?" Ginny said.

"He'll be in bed recovering for a day or two. When he's well, he'll need at least two more days of rest to make certain he has his strength back before he starts doing magic again. Then he should be fine. We'll want to examine him before he tries to do any magic, though," Bradford said as he passed his diagnostic crystals over Harry's body once more.

"Did Voldemort do permanent harm to him this time?" Ginny said cautiously.

"I don't know enough about this type of spell to know," Bradford replied honestly. "Headmaster, what do you think? Or Professor Snape?"

"Harry had to resort to Parseltongue to get the snake out at all, and apparently it required his full power to draw the Mark out completely. Now that the venom is out and the spell broken, I imagine the damage he caused by using too much power while he's still weak is the biggest problem he'll have to deal with.," the old wizard said.

"I agree," Bradford said.

Dumbledore studied his Potions Master for a moment, then said. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Snape said with dignity. "And I did not ask Potter to remove the remainder of the Mark. He said he wanted to see how much was left. The rest, you know. I could not get him to let go of my arm once his power had taken over." He thought a moment. "It was . . . it was as if his power took him over, really," he said. "I think he was trying to release my arm at times. He certainly didn't do anything obvious to call on that amount of power." He glanced up at Dumbledore. "When he killed Zabini, he was injured himself and wasn't truly in control of his magic. Could it still be out of his control?"

"That's very possible, Severus," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully.

* * * * *

Professor Tofty sat quietly across the hospital wing from the mad activity surrounding Harry's bed. He observed everything, absolutely astounded at what he was hearing. That boy was powerful enough to . . . ? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had left behind a curse that nearly . . . ? The old man shook his head in puzzlement and got up from his seat, walked quietly out the door and down the stairs. He had exams to grade. Whatever had happened to the Potter boy was more than he could get his mind around in one sitting. He'd have to think about it a while, perhaps ask Professor Snape or Professor Dumbledore some questions at some point. Such a nice boy. Such a shame that he was so ill. Professor Tofty sighed sadly, wondering why the good ones always had to suffer so.

* * * * *

Many long, agonized hours later, Harry finally woke up. Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Remus were seated close to his bed, all of them drowsing in their chairs. His grandfather was pacing at a distance, stopping from time to time to speak quietly to someone just out of Harry's line of sight. He couldn't see clearly anyway without his glasses, but Dumbledore was the only person he knew with a long white beard and hair like that combined with that energetic way of walking. Harry sighed and grunted a bit as he tried to change position, waking Ginny, who, as usual, had her hand on his arm.


"Hi there," she said with a warm smile. "Welcome back."

"Hi," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For this. I couldn't stop. Something locked me into that spell," he said, shaking his head and frowning. "I couldn't break free."

"Your grandfather has an idea about what it was. You'll be fine. You just need to rest," she told him, stroking his cheek softly. "Don't scare me like that again, OK?"

"I'll do my best," he vowed.

By this time, everyone else was awake and gathered close around his bed.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said cheerfully. "Good nap?"

"Yeah," Harry said, trying to grin. Trust Ron to find a way to make him smile.

"That was quite a dramatic finish to your last exam, young man," Remus said, smoothing his godson's hair off of his face. Harry grinned in reply. "It's good to have you back."

"We were so worried," Hermione said. "We tried to stop you, but--"

"I tried to stop, too," Harry replied. "I don't know why I couldn't. I tried as hard as I could to get away from it."

"I believe it was Voldemort's last hurrah," Dumbledore said mildly. "It's good to see you awake again." Severus Snape followed him into the enclosure.

"Thanks," Harry replied. "What do you mean, Voldemort's . . .?"

Dumbledore explained his theory and Harry's face lit up. "That was it, exactly! I couldn't get away. The snake was spouting curses and I had to do constant counter-curses or blocking spells, but in Parseltongue. That was hard! So the snake was an embedded spell like I read about in that book--?" He stopped himself before he mentioned the marvellous library in Godric Gryffindor's Chamber of Knowledge.

"Ah, you've read about it! Perhaps you can show me what you read sometime," Dumbledore said with a smile. "So you recognized what was happening?"

"After a bit, yeah, and I had read some counter-curses to use for such a spell, but they weren't working very well," Harry said ruefully. "And honestly, the snake was saying the spells so quickly, I didn't have much time to actually stop it."

"How did you know the incantations in Parseltongue?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I don't know. When I speak Parseltongue, I think in Parseltongue too. I suppose the incantations just got . . . translated somehow," he said with a shrug. "It was hard, though, because Parseltongue just isn't as fast a language as English or Latin. It was all I could do to block those curses, much less shut up that snake and get rid of it."

"But you managed it in the end, Harry," his grandfather assured him. "You removed the snake completely. Well done!"

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling tiredly. "I couldn't control my magic, though. It got more and more powerful, and I knew I shouldn't do that yet. I knew I wasn't strong enough, that I'd hurt myself, but I couldn't stop it."

"Your magic was instinctively protecting you from Voldemort's curses. It took that much magic to overcome the spell he had put in the Dark Mark," Dumbledore said. "But I think you're right. We will work on your control again once you have your strength back."

"More private sessions, huh?" Harry said, smiling.

"It only seems fair, since your friends will be taking exams, that you should at least be in class," his grandfather said with a twinkle in his eye.

"I suppose," Harry agreed.

When things settled down around Harry a bit, Snape approached his bed. "Potter?"

"Yes?"

"May I have a word? If you're too tired, I can speak to you later," the man said diffidently.

"No, I'm fine. What is it?"

"I . . . well . . . um . . . ." Snape stopped and cleared his throat. "Thank you, Potter."

"No problem," Harry said with a weary smile.


Author’s Afterword: People in the deep South still believed in things like snake stones when my hubby and I were growing up (and may to this day, I don’t know, since we don’t live down there anymore). I don’t recommend them – I just used one in this story because it seemed to “fit.” Here’s a link to the folklore of snake-stones, which is quite interesting: http://www.jjkent.com/articles/history-snake-stones.htm