Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

* * * * * * * * * * *
What you do
No one can decided.
It's up to you.
And who you are
Is what you choose.
These times,
When the world falls apart,
Makes us who we are

Lifehouse ~
The End Has Only Begun
* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry passed through the common room on his way up to get some books he needed for Druce's essay. The common room was a buzz with news of the fight and the subsequent points lost. Participants in the fight were pleading their cases, though most students were ignoring them or glaring at them. Hermione was watching one group of sixth years warily as they whispered and threw Chris Harens dirty looks. The group of fourth years that were involved fell silent as he walked past, adverting their eyes, one of the girls even blushed.

He sighed as he climbed the stairs to the dorm room. Dean and Seamus hadn't been down in the common room and Harry hoped they were both asleep when he entered the room. He didn't want to hear apologies or excuses. Nor did he want an awkward silence. This fight had lost Gryffindor the chance to win the House Cup their final year at Hogwarts. He didn't even want to think about it.

"Then Goyle shot a bunch of sparks at Pansy's butt," Seamus was saying through his raucous laughter. It seemed that both Seamus and Dean were giving a blow-by-blow account of the fight to Neville who was listening half-heartedly. Neville glanced at the door as Harry entered, smiling slightly at him in greeting.

"Pansy was screeching, trying to put her robes out, but the flames weren't responding to any magic," Dean continued. Harry slammed the door shut, glaring at the two boys. Ron stuck his head out of the bathroom, foam from the tooth cleaning solution rimming his mouth. He smiled thankfully; he had probably had to listen to this for over an hour.

"What's the matter with you?" Seamus asked, surprised by Harry's anger.

"Let's guess, shall we?" Ron said sarcastically. He ducked back into the bathroom to spit out the tooth cleaning solution.

"Could it be that you just lost us the House Cup?" Harry asked pretending to be thoughtful and confused.

"Or maybe that you broke all your promises to Harry?" Ron said, returning with a towel to wipe his mouth clean.

"Or your promises to Thia?"

"Or that you have just made it 'cool' to beat up on Slytherins?"

"Or maybe it's the fact that you're proud of it?"

"Okay, okay," Dean said, holding his hands up in a motion to shush them and in surrender.

"Shouldn't of asked," Seamus muttered resentfully.

"I can't believe you two!" Ron said, his temper finally breaking. "I mean, you were dueling with the Slytherins! What were you thinking?"

"I doubt they even were," Harry said under his breath.

"What did you want us to do?" Seamus asked, his temper getting the better of him as well. "They were beating up on our little Gryffindors!"

"The way I understood it, we were beating up on them," Ron argued.

"One way or the other, we were losing!" Dean contended.

"And we lost more because you two joined in!" Harry assured them. "Next time, why don't you try to stop them."

"Don't know why you care so much," Seamus said bitterly. "They're just a load of Death Eater slime."

"They're not slime," Harry shouted, losing his temper completely. "They're human beings!"

"They're pathetic idiots trying to impress their Death Eater parents!" Seamus fought back. "They're junior Death Eater goo!"

"They're kids, just like you and me!" Harry replied, taking a step closer. Seamus seemed to shrink for a second, but then his face took on a deliberate look.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted them to win," Seamus said softly, dangerously. Harry was taken aback; did he mean this little fight or the war?

"Good thing you do know better," Ron shouted.

"I just want to know why he always takes the slime-brats' side all the time!" Seamus replied just as loud.

"They're humans!" Harry shouted irrationally, his voice drowning out all others. "Don't you get it? You're just as bad as the Pureblood drivel! They never give muggle-borns a chance and you never gave the Slytherins a chance! All they could be was your enemy! Except for Pansy's group, who I'm sure were there only to cause trouble, those Slytherins were only protecting their younger housemates! What gives you the right to protect our younger students and deny them the same? We were the bad guys this time, don't you get it?"

"How are we the bad guys when they're the ones with Dark Marks on their arms and killing people?" Dean yelled, rejoining the fight.

"They're only bloody kids!" Ron exclaimed, floored by the statement.

"Where's the proof?" Harry demanded.

"Who needs proof?" Seamus countered.

"We do! I—You do!" Harry roared back. "My Godfather was imprisoned for years in Azkaban with hardly any proof!"

"Your Godfather wasn't a Slytherin!" yelled Seamus.

"He was from a Slytherin family!" Harry screamed. "And when it came down to it, that's all—"

"What is going on here?" Hermione shouted, trying to be heard over the din. Harry looked over, startled. He was standing face to face with Seamus, his breathing labored. Trying to remember when that had happened, Harry realized that Dean and Ron were facing off as well. Standing behind Hermione was Neville, looking nervous.

"Harry came in here, jumping down our throats without a reason," Dean explained, twisting the truth in his favor.

"I came in here from my meeting and found them bragging about the fight," Harry said, explaining his side of the story.

"But you should have seen Goyle!" Seamus exclaimed, making Dean laugh at the memory.

"Harry, Ron, that isn't any excuse to be shouting at them," Hermione scolded. Seamus and Dean exchanged gloating looks as Ron started to protest. "Hush, Ron! And you two," she said, rounding on the other two. "You should be ashamed of yourselves! Just you two alone lost sixty points and have six weeks of detention to serve and that's less than what you deserve!"

"Like that matters," Seamus said, interrupting her. "The House will understand." Harry couldn't stop the dry chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Have you been in the common room since it became well known that you'd lost a butt-load of points?" he asked. The two boys shook their heads. "Just passing through, I saw all the dirty looks and heard all the angry whispers."

"I had to take thirty points from three sixth years for hexing Chris Harens behind his back," Hermione added. "You two have set a horrible example as seventh years. I expected better of both of you! And I'm sure the professors are going to have a huge headache for weeks."

"Well, Snape deserved it," Dean muttered.

"He's had a bad day," Harry replied, holding his newly chained temper in check. "The Weasley twins broke into his office and pranked him." He paused, looking them both in the eye. "You guys have to understand that Death Eaters' kids cannot help who and what their parents are and they have to live with those freaks every holiday."

"That doesn't excuse them for following You-Know-Who," Seamus said, his temper also cooling off as well.

"You don't know if they're only pretending so that they can survive in those homes or if they really believe that stuff," Harry explained. "I know," he said, stalling any arguments, "that Pansy is not the greatest of people." Ron chuckled at this understatement. "But what has Crabbe or Goyle ever done besides follow directions? Maybe if we'd just give them a chance, they'd turn out to be alright."

"Or baboons," Ron conceded at Seamus' and Dean's identical looks of disbelief. "But at least you gave them the chance to make the right choice."

"Since when does Ron Weasley give Slytherins a chance?" Dean asked, his voice still filled with disbelief.

"Since I realized Snape was just severely misunderstood and Blaise was actually fun to hang out with," Ron answered. "I had never given them a chance before. But once I had—"

"Snape was decent at Christmas," Dean finished thoughtfully.

"One holiday makes up for years worth of heartache and nastiness?" Seamus asked, outraged once more.

"My Gran says Snape's alright," Neville threw out, speaking for the first time. "She'd make me stop complaining about Potions lessons and how he bullied me. She said he'd done a lot for our side and has had a hard time staying decent like he has." Seamus gave a snort of skepticism.

"Snape's dad was worse than even Lucius Malfoy," Harry added. "And then he had to pretend to be Lucius' friend even after that bastard killed his wife and kids. Just think how much bitterness that must have caused."

"He didn't have to continue playing the part after—" Seamus started, but Hermione cut him off.

"Oh, but he did," Hermione said. "Dumbledore knew Voldemort wasn't gone forever and Snape trusted Dumbledore's intuition. Snape had to continue to play the role so that the other Death Eaters would think he'd taken the easiest route out of Azkaban."

"What about how he treated Harry?" Seamus asked, starting to become desperate.

"My dad's best friend drove him to take the Mark," Harry answered.

"Remember that story Thia told last summer?" Hermione asked. Everyone had blank looks on their face as Harry looked around. "You know, the one about Snipe, White, and Remus? Where White had tricked Snipe to go face a fully changed werewolf?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Seamus asked, though Dean and Neville had understanding looks on their faces.

"Snipe was Snape and that's why he took the Mark," she clarified. "Mr. Potter's best friend tricked him and add that to the years' worth of enmity..." she trailed off with a shrug.

"She told that story?" Harry asked, surprised.

"She changed all the names, like 'Mione said," Ron answered. Harry nodded and turned to face Seamus who still looked unconvinced.

"I think Snape would have been a great addition to my dad's group, but he and Sirius couldn't look past Professor Snape's family and persona," Harry said. "Snape pretended to be a dark wizard at school so that his father wouldn't punish him, but had he had friends to back him up—" he left the statement unfinished. There was silence as everyone thought it over. Neville was nodding his head, while Hermione was looking almost proud. Ron grabbed his towel and went to claim the empty shower. The sound of the bathroom door banging shut seemed to snap Seamus out of a daze.

"Whatever," he said grabbing his pajamas. "Hermione, you mind leaving so that I can change?"

"Yeah, night guys," she said. "Night, Ron!" she shouted and a muffled reply was heard over the water. Harry doubted she had heard because she was several stairs away, the door closed as well. He walked over to his trunk, remembering why he'd come up in the first place. Finding the books quickly, Harry started walking out of the room.

"Harry," Dean called out, just as he was about to shut the door. Harry popped his head back in. "I'm sorry." Harry nodded, accepting the apology without any words. Both boys looked over at Seamus.

The Irishman glared back and shut his bed curtains violently. Dean shrugged in apology for his best mate's actions, but Harry shook his head, knowing that Seamus had to figure it out on his own. Neville said goodnight and Harry replied in turn before leaving the room. He let the door shut and hurried down the stairs. Seamus could either keep his prejudices, even after finding out they were wrong, or get rid of them. Either way, it was something he was going to have to come to terms with and without their help.

"I thought you were heading to bed," Hermione said. Harry had spent the last hour cooling off, letting the essay writing distract him from his other worries. He looked up at Hermione's words and saw a very disgruntled and sleepy Ron taking the seat next to her. Looking around, Harry was slightly surprised to see that the common room had cleared out considerably.

"I was," he grumbled. "But Seamus still hasn't shut up."

"I thought he'd shut his curtains for the night," Harry said. "Didn't we straighten them out?" He set his quill down and moved his almost finished essay to the side.

"He was complaining to Dean when I got out of the shower," Ron explained. "Going on about how Harry didn't have any right to come into the room and just harp on them, Head Boy or not. And how Hermione had no right coming up and scolding them, Head Girl or not.

"I didn't mean to harp," Harry said with a sigh.

"Well, I meant to scold," Hermione said with a huff.

"What about Dean and Neville?" Harry asked, curious how the other two Gryffindors were handling it.

"Dean was listening like a good best mate ought, but he did hush Seamus when he saw me crawl into bed and shut my curtains."

"So why couldn't you sleep?" Hermione asked, looking up from the book she had been reading all evening.

"'Cause I wanted to shout at Seamus for saying things about my best mate and girlfriend!"

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said with an appreciative laugh. "And Neville?"

"Already fast asleep when I got out of the shower," Ron answered, shaking his head. "Not sure how he did it." They fell silent; Hermione started reading again, Ron turned to look into the fireplace, and Harry pulled his essay back absentmindedly.

He knew he should tell them about the Occlumency lesson and about Legilimency. But he didn't. He was afraid that anything he'd say would sound like complaining and he was in no position to complain. He'd agreed to everything, accepted it.

"Ginny go to bed?" Ron asked, looking around the common room for her.

"Yeah," Hermione answered, without even looking up from her book. "Almost half an hour ago."

"Where were you two at supper tonight?" Ron asked after another few minutes of silence.

"Had to talk to McGonagall."

"About what?" Harry asked, looking up from his essay in surprise.

"Didn't Ron tell you?" she asked in reply. Harry shook his head. "I needed to talk to her about my animagus form."

"That form needs a nickname," Ron muttered. "But what about? What was so important that you skipped supper for it?"

"I've been having trouble hearing correctly when I don't use a wand to transform," Hermione explained. "I thought I had figured out why and I knew she had the Order meeting after supper so I went to go talk to her about it before she became busy."

"And that took you the whole meal?" Ron asked, confused.

"Oh, no," Hermione assured him. "She said I should try it out and I did a few times and it worked. After that we sat talking about Transfiguration over some sandwiches." There was silence, Harry pretending he'd forgotten that Ron had asked both of them about skipping supper. He finished his essay and passed it across the table for Hermione to read through. The motion seemed to pull Ron out of thought and he looked over at Harry. The look his best mate was giving him made Harry's stomach fall. He wasn't going to get out of it.

"What about you? Surely Occlumency didn't run all the way through supper."

"Well, no," Harry answered evasively. Ron gave him a stubborn look and Harry knew he'd have to talk... eventually. He could always delay it. As long as Hermione stayed out of it, that was. But something in his tone seemed to catch Hermione's interest.

"Harry?" she asked after Harry remained silent. He looked at them, begging them to let him off this time. "What's the matter?"

"Well, I found out what had Snape in such a foul mood all day," Harry started, hoping to distract them.

"Oh, yeah, what?" Ron asked, interested.

"The twins snuck into his office and decorated it for a birthday party," Harry explained.

"And that’s what had him so upset?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"Red and gold confetti falling," Harry said, watching Ron smile broadly. "And you know how much Slytherins all hate that combination. The decorations were amazing. I don't know where they had everything hidden in their robes. There was a really good cake too." He hoped Ron would start to tell him off for eating something the twins had supplied and thus forget to question him about the rest of the lesson. Hermione, though, seemed to catch on to his trick and before Ron could start the building rant (he was sputtering at the moment) she asked:

"Harry, what are you avoiding? What don't you want to talk about?"

"Nothing," he lied pitifully. Hermione's raised eyebrow and Ron's dawning look of understand proved to Harry that he hadn't fooled them. "Snape and I..." He trailed off. Why couldn't they let him alone this one time? "Things had gone so well and normal enough. We planned the twins' punishment, I threw off his Legilimency attacks, and we had moved on to talk about the Order meeting." Harry stopped again, pausing to remember the horror he had felt as Snape saw those memories. "He made a comment about me enjoying the press attention—"

"The bloody git!" Ron shouted. "And you defended that—that—that thing tonight!"

"He was only trying to wrong seat me," Harry said, understanding why Snape had done it, even if it had hurt at the time. "And it did..."

"What happened?" Hermione prodded after he had remained silent for too long. She laid a comforting hand on his arm, her eyes gentle and understanding.

"I'd been thinking about how the lesson had been the best part of my day today and how much we had changed," Harry said, his voice distant and his gaze vacant. "Planning his revenge on the twins' and eating cake... and I couldn't throw him off. His question had hurt and stung too much for me to focus." Harry gazed into the far off fire, his voice not working. His eyes didn't see the dancing flames but instead the stunned expression on Snape's face after he had pulled out of Harry's mind. A soft squeeze of his arm brought him back to the present.

"He saw a whole bunch of my memories of him," Harry continued, talking so softly that the other two had to lean in closer to hear and so slowly that Harry was surprised that they could even understand him. This was just a lot harder than even he had expected. "He didn't pull out immediately, so he saw how much that dig had hurt. And when he was finally out, I ran for it. Spent the whole time in the Room of Requirement... just thinking." His story finished, he continued staring into the fire waiting for the other two to say something. He felt, rather than saw, them exchange a look.

"Um, Harry..." Ron started but trailed off and Harry turned to face them. Ron was now looking at Hermione desperately.

"This is going to sound really bad," Hermione said hesitantly. "But... I mean... obviously... this has you really shaken, but..." she trailed off, looking back to Ron for support and help.

"But why?" Ron finally asked. Harry gave them a surprised look. Why? Wasn't that obvious? "I mean... it's only Snape and he's not the git he used to be."

"I'd understand if this was fifth year," Hermione continued. "But like Ron said, it's only this Snape. He's sure to understand." He gaped at them.

"It was Snape who told me not to wear my heart on my sleeve," he exclaimed, his voice louder and a bit hysterical. "It was Snape who pretended to be friends with the very people who had killed his family and pulled it off. It was Snape who never shows more than an ounce of emotion and normally that emotion is that which feeds dark magic. He's never broken—"

"Snape is a very good spy," Hermione said, interrupting his hysterical babbling. "He's had to keep his emotions in check since he was a kid. Years of never letting his true feelings show, and then the one time he does she dies because of him. It's different."

"It isn't. At least, not really."

"Explain then," Hermione said logically. She crossed her arms, waiting for him to explain. Harry's mouth opened automatically, but his brain didn't supply him with an answer. He shut it, thinking desperately for an explanation. It was hard to put into words.

"Look, mate," Ron said gently, "I think you're overreacting. Oh! Don't get me wrong!" he said before Harry's protests could start pouring out of his mouth. "Having Snape in my head isn't my first choice of an evening's recreation. But... Snape... he'll understand."

"He isn't the same man he was fifth year," Hermione added. "He's free, for the first time in his life, to act exactly as he pleases whenever he pleases."

"He wanted to train you in Occlumency," Ron said. "Remember? Sure, he gave you a sarcastic reply, but it was nothing like two years ago. Do you remember how furious he was at having to 'waste' his time training you?"

"And Ginny says Thia came in during one of her extra Potions lessons and she heard him bragging about you."

Harry turned in his chair to look out one of the windows, his back to his friends. They made sense. Maybe in the emotional rollercoaster he had overreacted. Maybe Snape didn't hate him or, rather, think less of him for letting his feelings slip.

"But he was so formal when we met in the hall outside McGonagall's office," he said, voicing his last doubt.

"You ran from his office!" Ron said, laughing softly. "Of course he was formal!" The laughter was grating on Harry's nerves, but before it could re-light his temper, Hermione glared at Ron and made him be quiet.

"He was falling back into the only sure relationship you two still have: student and teacher," she explained. "You're no longer enemies, but he wasn't sure if you were still... well... whatever you two have become. And there was probably a hint of doubt as well."

"Huh?" Ron and Harry said together.

"He was probably wondering if he had seen correctly and if he had interpreted it correctly."

"Oh," Harry said softly. "Okay... so maybe I did overreact a bit."

"Only a bit?" Ron said, grinning broadly.

"It was horrifying at the time," Harry said defensively.

"You should talk with him," Hermione advised, interrupting the bickering before it could really get started. "Don't give up your Occlumency lessons either."

"Who said I was?" Harry asked. "Actually, I am, but only because he's going to start training me in Legilimency."

"Really?" Hermione asked, excited. "That's great. It's sure to come in handy."

"'Mione, calm down," Ron said fondly. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Read Harry's essay so we can all go to bed."

Hermione smiled up at him and then restarted reading Harry's essay. It was nice hanging out with them. Just the three of them, it had been a long while since the last time. "What did you and Ginny do without us at supper?"

"Blaise and Sephra asked us to play a sparring match," Ron answered. "Chasers vs. Keeper. It was great!" Ron continued with the story, explaining a few of the plays in detail, saying how they could use them against Hufflepuff in their next match.

Yes, this was nice. This felt almost normal. Normal was nice. Harry rested his head on his arms, using the table for support. It had been such a long day, but he couldn't sleep. It wouldn't be... right if he... slept as... Hermione... was... edit....

Harry found himself in the Potions classroom, working on what seemed to be a tricky potion. Snape was standing nearby, surveying him with a sneer plastered on his face. Pansy and her gang stood around him, laughing uproariously.

"Such a weakling," Snape was saying, using a tone that Harry hadn't heard in months. "Just a small comment had him spilling his deepest and darkest secrets to me. Who needs Veritaserum when your victim willingly spills his guts?" The Slytherins laughed even harder, Goyle going down on his knees because he was laughing so hard.

Harry's hand shook and spilt too much of the ingredient into his potion. The contents in the cauldron turned from a simmering silver color into an ugly puke green and started sputtering and bubbling over in great globs. This caused everyone to laugh even harder, Snape's sneer becoming even more pronounced.

"Need remedial potions, Potter?" Pansy gasped out. "Heard you took some fifth year."

Harry turned on his heel and fled the dungeon classroom. Instead of entering the dark corridors under the castle, Harry found himself in his dorm room. Dean, Seamus, and Neville were clustered around Dean's bed. Dean was... drawing something onto Neville's arm, though it looked like it hurt by the expression on Neville's face.

"Harry!" Dean called, hailing Harry over to the bed.

"Heya, Harry," Seamus said cheerfully. "You should take the Gryffindor Mark and join us in the noble cause of ridding this world of Slytherin slime and the traitors who stand up for them." He pulled Neville's left arm away from Dean and showed it to Harry. Where the Dark Mark was burnt on Death Eaters' arms was the Gryffindor House Crest.

"Neville’s already killed his first House-traitor," Dean added proudly, pointing over to a body Harry hadn't noticed. A red head lay on an arm as if sleeping, but his eyes were open and lifeless. Before Harry could start raging at them, the scene changed once more.

A village lay destroyed below the small rise he stood on. Buildings were still ablaze, while others were charred husks of their former glory, a few embers still glowing. What could only be bodies lay scattered in the street. Had Harry not been familiar with the Death Eaters' Revelries he wouldn't have recognized the bodies for what they truly were, not at this distance. Huddled in a small group at the base of the hill were the survivors; Harry noticed that not all of them were muggles. The robes that several of the prisoners wore testified that they were magical and knew exactly what was happening this night.

Death Eaters stood loosely around this group, guarding them, occasionally sending hexes and jinxes at the huddled mass. Several Death Eaters were working on building a large sturdy cage around the survivors, though Harry couldn't figure out why. None of the prisoners looked to be fit enough to run and surely Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to stay at this location for any length of time.

A long, mournful, and angry howl ripped through the silence of the night. Voldemort looked up at the sky, and Harry saw the moon in its full glory, illuminating the surreal scene below with its eerie light. Feather thin clouds floated past, not thick enough to cast even a pale shadow on the world down below. A second howl escaped the lips of the werewolf, causing one of the witches to scream hysterically. An infant's cries joined in, and soon all the children were screaming and crying.

"Silencio!" Voldemort commanded, his spell silencing all of the prisoners. The children broke into even more tears at this loss, their terror overcoming them completely. Harry's heart broke, looking at the sobbing children, robbed of even that small relief. "How comes the cage?" Voldemort asked, his voice a soft hiss that carried down the slope unnaturally clear.

A simpering Death Eater climbed up and bowed low in front of his master. "It is ready, my Lord," he answered, his voice tinged with fear.

"Good," Voldemort replied, his feeling of anticipation flooding Harry with pain. Ah, Potter, I've been waiting for you. "Bring Mordred. We are finally ready for her." The howling became louder and angrier and more frequent. Six or seven Death Eaters passed below Voldemort, skirting the base of the hill, chains connected to a collar around the werewolf's neck. She strained at them, letting the chain fall slack whenever she could before sprinting at the Death Eaters. They seemed used to this game, and did not allow her the slack she needed.

Mordred, the werewolf, froze when she saw the huddled group of humans and sent up the most terrifying howl Harry had ever heard. He tried desperately to pull his mind free, to reach his own body hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts, but Voldemort had a firm grip on his mind. Oh no you don't, Potter. You don't get to leave this Revelry early.

The Death Eaters maneuvered Mordred into the cage and released the chains with a spell. The werewolf froze once again, surveying the huddled prisoners with cool, golden eyes. A wolfish-smile crossed her face before she leapt into them. Screams, barks, and tearing flesh meshed with the sound of cheers, jeers, and shouts of encouragement the Death Eaters were making. Harry felt sick watching them, this sport was just disgusting.

The wolf tore into a child, gulping a small hand in one bite. The child's mother screamed, putting herself in between her child and the beast. Mordred sent up another haunting howl and then launched herself at the mother. There were several lifeless bodies scattered about the cage now. Everyone had been bitten at least once, scratches and claw marks covering their bodies.

Would you believe that Mordred is actually on the Wolfsbane Potion? Voldemort stated conversationally. She's my favorite werewolf, actually. Such a loyal Death Eater and recruiter. She loves staying in control of the wolf, says she enjoys the taste of the meat better that way.

That’s disgusting, Harry replied. Revolting.

The wolf was tearing the flesh away from the mother's dead corpse now. The child's cries were weakening; he was most likely bleeding to death. A young infant's screams rose above all other sounds and Harry felt his stomach plummet. This was awful. This was worse than awful. This was... this was...

Wonderful, Voldemort supplied, watching Mordred jump against the cage bars at the simpering Death Eater. He's absolutely terrified of her, you know. She senses that and tries to increase her power over him. She's a true artist.

You're warped, Harry said, feeling his body retch. He grabbed onto the feeling, using it as a rope between his consciousness in Voldemort's mind and his body in Hogwarts.

"Harry?" he heard someone ask, whoever it was sounded extremely worried.

"Move," he said and threw up. A cool damp cloth was pressed to his forehead when he was done. "Thanks," he mumbled. Once he was recovered enough to speak he told Ron and Hermione what was happening. Hermione hurried over to the fireplace, grabbed the hidden stash of Floo Powder, and made a Floo-call.

"I told Thia," she said when she returned, brushing soot out of her hair. "There isn't much they can do without knowing where the attack is though. Ron, take him up to bed. Harry, try to get some sleep." She helped him stand and gave him a friendly and comforting hug, pressing a kiss to his clammy cheek. "I'll let Ginny know what happened at breakfast. Your essay is fine as it is, don't worry about it. Good night, boys."

"'Night, 'Mione," Ron said, giving her a thankful smile. "Come on, Harry. Let's get you upstairs."

"Did I not scream?" Harry asked, perplexed by the empty common room. "I expected to find lot's of people watching."

"Hermione was a genius and cast silencing spells on the doors to the dorm rooms before anyone woke up," Ron answered, helping Harry through the door to their room. "You alright on your own now, mate?"

"Yeah, thanks. 'Night."

"'Night." Harry grabbed a towel and his pajamas and went to take a shower, trying to rid his mind of the images of the Revelry. He would place the memories in his Pensieve once he was out of the shower. He stood under the hot water, wishing that it could wash away the feeling of unclean-ness that Voldemort had left on his consciousness. The years had taught him, though, that nothing could.

The week turned out to be longer than Harry had feared. The day after the full moon was one of the longest. The Daily Prophet was filled with article after article describing what little the officials released about the attack. The whole village had been destroyed, everyone dead or bitten. Five new werewolves would have to face life as outcasts in a world they didn't know. The youngest to survive was the infant Harry had heard crying. Remus and Tonks were trying to adopt the child, who was the only magical survivor. The couple figured that Remus would be the best father the child could hope for now, bitten so young just as Remus had been. Well, not quite that young. No one knew if the infant's mind could withstand the transformation. But, Remus and Tonks were trying anyway.

On top of the Revelry, there was the Gryffindor and Slytherin reaction to losing over four hundred points each in one night. There was a shell-shocked look on most of their faces. It would be impossible to recover from such a hard hit. The group of students involved were outcasts in both houses, just as Hermione and Harry had been in their first year.

The next day, Wednesday, was the longest Harry had ever had to live through. With the updated versions of events from the night of the full moon, letters from readers were screaming for Harry to put an end to the war. The whole of Hufflepuff House (minus the D.A. members, that is) had decided to give Harry the cold shoulder. Five students from that house had lost their parents and siblings, three of whom were from one family. Seamus was still angry with Harry, but didn't let it show outside of the common room. The Irishman wouldn't let anyone outside of the house know that there was another split inside, not while the Hufflepuffs were so hostile and the house so low on points.

In addition to all the letters to the editor and the Hufflepuffs, Harry had orientation to the Auror Academy, or double-A as it was more commonly known, that afternoon. Shacklebolt went over all the things they would cover before May 24th, the first day of N.E.W.T.'s. Harry's head was swimming by the time they started working on some of the most complex spell combinations Harry had ever worked on. When the lesson ended Harry was more exhausted than he'd ever been after dueling lessons or Bryant's physical training. He'd fallen asleep in his office and had barely made it to Quidditch practice on time.

Thursday had been the most relaxing day. Though, Snape canceling their Occlumency lesson that evening had done nothing for Harry's nerves around the man. Not that Tuesday's double period had been bad. It hadn't seemed any different on the surface, but there was an uneasy undercurrent. Harry used the free time to catch up on his homework; Bill had a huge Transfiguration essay due Friday, so the hour before supper and the D.A. meeting had been a huge help. Harry had even made it to bed before midnight. Though he was still forced to remove the memories of the Revelry from his mind before sleeping.

Though... Hermione's mini-breakdown at lunch had most everyone both amused and a bit worried.

"Four months, two weeks, three days, twenty hours, and fifty-four minutes," Hermione said, dropping her bags forlornly.

"Until graduation?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Until N.E.W.T.'s begin!" Hermione said shrilly, a hand running through her hair distractedly. Harry thought he noticed a few spots missing already.

"Here I thought we were almost done," Ron muttered into his stew.

"Almost done?" she asked wildly, pulling a few hairs out. "Two weeks of N.E.W.T.'s are between us and freedom."

"Don't start harping on that, Hermione," Lavender complained. "It's still months away."

"Four months, two weeks, three days, twenty hours, and," she paused, looking at her watch. "And fifty-one minutes! I've wasted three whole minutes! I should have been studying! Snape gave us the requirements for our end of term project and Bill was hinting at giving us his later."

"'Mione, calm down, you have Transfiguration in the bag," Ron said calmly, grabbing both her hands before she could pull out another chunk. "You're animagus transformation will get you an O without a doubt."

"What about Ancient Runes?" she asked, not calming down. "I messed up on my O.W.L. exam! Remember? I mistranslated 'ehwaz', said it was 'defense' but it was really 'partnership'. Mixed it up with 'eihwaz'." She stood up quickly.

"Hermione, you got an O on that test," Harry said, resting both his hands on her shoulders to push her back into her chair. "Now, you have to eat. You're brain needs food to remember everything you're going to study next hour."

"And you're going to come up with some beautiful revision charts for the three of us," Ron said, letting go of her hand cautiously.

"Which we'll admire and then blatantly ignore until it's too late," Harry continued.

"At which time you have our permission to yell at us."

"Tell us we're abysmal and deserve to fail."

"And then hand over your notes because you couldn't possibly let us fail our last exams after dragging us through the last seven years kicking and screaming," Ron finished, getting Hermione to laugh, even if it was pitiful.

"Four months, two weeks, three days, and forty-three minutes is a long time," Ginny put in. "No point in freaking out now. You'll be prepared. More prepared than any one of these dolts, that's for sure."

"Most definitely," Dean said around the piece of beef in his mouth. Hermione glared at him and he shut his mouth quickly.

"Fine, I'll work on the revision charts this afternoon," Hermione said, pulling a pot of stew closer and ladling out a bowl full. "Only, this year, I want you two to use them."

"'Course we will, 'Mione," Ron said, kissing her cheek.

"You will?" she asked, surprised.

"Not a chance," Harry said with a laugh. "We just don't want you to start ranting at us." They all laughed and finished their lunch, though Ron and Harry exchanged nervous looks once she had finished drawing those tables out. Four months looked much shorter done up this way.

Friday dawned beautifully, though Harry was once more in a foul mood. As he was going through Bryant's exercises, he mulled over the private Revelry that Voldemort had held the night before. It hadn't even made the news yet; Harry had let Thia know about the muggle's death. Mente's appearance at breakfast hadn't helped at all, even though Harry had known he was showing up. Then again, Harry had forgotten in the aftermath of the full moon Revelry. McGonagall, Bill, Althea, Druce, and Bryant all talked with Mente, letting him ask any questions he wanted. Harry felt his stomach do a few cartwheels each time he thought about the coming article.

Midmorning, Harry had his second lesson with Shacklebolt, and though he didn't think they did much more than dueling practice or Bryant's lesson, he had never been so exhausted after those before. He had barely kept his eyes open during lunch and Transfiguration that afternoon, and, instead of working on the Theory of Greats, he had taken a nap. Not that it had been restful, but his body demanded sleep. He had forgotten to place his memories in the Pensieve and paid for it dearly with the nightmares that followed.

Saturday went much the same, dueling practice in the morning and double-A with Shacklebolt in the afternoon. He got a head start on his homework for the coming week and planned several D.A. lessons. He stayed up past midnight playing wizard's chess with Ron and Ginny, Hermione sitting next to them reading a thick tome. She had welcomed the research into "Harry's Weapon" as they had deemed it. She was almost always reading something. Harry was sick of reading things; Dumbledore's list was long and quite extensive. He'd only made it through half of the first chapter of one of the Dark books before he had to set it aside. He hadn't picked it up since Christmas Holidays, not really wanting to read the disgusting uses the Theory could be put to.

It was now time for the D.A. lesson that Sunday. He had left late for it, having been engrossed in one of the more respectable books on the Theory of Greats. He ran to the Room of Requirement, and was barely out of breath once he reached it.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, walking to the front of the classroom. "Got distracted. Today, we're going to work on dueling. We're going to keep it more or less controlled this lesson, but by the end of the month we'll go all out, including a few of us pretending to be Death Eaters."

"Pretending to be Death Eaters?" Burke asked, his voice raised and questioning.

"Yes," Harry said sharply, knowing his temper was on a very short leash after the long and exhausting week. He decided to ignore the question otherwise and continued with his explanation. "I'll split you up into two groups, and you'll battle it out—"

"How is that controlled?"

"I said more or less," Harry said impatiently. "Rules still apply, don't break them. Also, Dark Magic isn't allowed in this one—"

"Shouldn't be allowed at all," Burke muttered.

Harry felt his temper break. He'd had enough of Burke. Harry did value him as a fighter and an ally... even to some extent as a teacher (take out the ridicule and the textbook), but this was really crossing the line. The teacher-supervisor wasn't supposed to butt into this lesson. The D.A. was a completely student-run club; teachers were only there because they had to follow the rules set down by the Governors and Headmasters of the past.

"Okay, Burke, please remove yourself from my classroom!" Harry said, his finger pointing at the door, which had moved itself to be right behind the other man. "I'll get the Headmistress or Thia to supervise this session, but I'm sick of dealing with you on top of teaching. I kept my tongue during your classes, and left when I couldn't any longer. Now you'll do me the same courtesy."

There was a deafening silence after Harry's proclamation. The students all swiveled around to face their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The man's face had turned an ugly shade of purple. Harry watched as Burke took a deep breath and crossed his arms.

"I'm a supervisor of this club, and it's my responsibility to supervise it," Burke answered. "And to make sure it is being run safely and responsibly. I do not think it is, nor do I think it has been for quite a long while."

"Actually, McGonagall is the supervisor in charge of this club," Harry stated matter of fact-ly. "That's why she's the one who always approves my lesson plans. Please leave." Harry walked over to the fire and grabbed a handful of Floo-powder. Throwing it into the flames, he floo'ed Thia, but before he could deliver a message he felt a small stone hit his shoulder. Burke had shot a Stunning spell at the fireplace.

"That's out of line!" Blaise yelled.

"Be quiet, Blaise," Harry said softly, his voice pitched to a very dangerous calmness. He turned around slowly, his wand held high in a defensive position. "What was that for?"

"How about a duel between the two Defense teachers at this school?" the older man replied, his voice just as dangerous.

"Only if you let Thia come to 'referee'," he replied. Burke nodded and Harry made the request. "She'll be right up." They waited in silence, everyone clearing to the side to give the two men room for the duel. "Would you like terrain?"

"It would make things more interesting," Burke answered, his voice now dangerously polite. It matched Harry's tone to a tee.

"Ron, would you ask for terrain, please," Harry said. "That way neither one of us has an advantage. And make sure the terrain can't be changed by either of us."

"You can do that?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Yeah, just make it part of your requirements," Harry answered. About ten minutes later, Thia entered the room, a frown on her face.

"Are you both quite sure this is necessary?" she asked, disapproval written in her stance, voice, and frown.

"Yes," they agreed together.

"Fine," she said with a shrug. "Auror rules. All's fair, but don't do anything too permanent. Go for immobilization to win. Pick a starting position, you start on my whistle."

Harry walked towards one end, while Burke went to the other. Ron had created a rocky terrain that reminded Harry very much of the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. He bunkered down behind a large outcropping, waiting for Thia's whistle. Why did he agree to this? He was being stupid. He was sure Ginny, Hermione, and Sephra were all blaming it on testosterone. He could see them whispering fiercely together in a tight little knot. Ron and Blaise were whispering as well, though much slower and angrier. Harry wasn't sure why he had agreed to this, but he'd had enough of Professor Burke.

There was Thia's whistle and Harry turned up his senses, carefully listening to and for Burke. What to do, what to do? He could stay put or go Burke hunting. Well, his position was not the easiest to defend, so he'd go hunting—just very, very carefully.

Harry slinked around the left side of the largest boulder, his wand out front in a defensive position. His ears strained for any sound; somehow he couldn't hear any of the D.A. members. He looked up and saw a shield surrounding the area so that none of their stray spells could escape. Looking out of the corner of his eye at it, he "felt" that the shield contained their spells and sounds. Finding the purpose of stationary magic was something he had just learnt the night before in the book he was reading.

Hearing the small sound created by a falling pebble, Harry froze, finding a comfortable stance. "Evandius!" he whispered, turning invisible. He kept still, only allowing his chest to move in small pants, though he kept those as soft as possible. If he moved too much, the invisibility shield would drop. Thinking unexpectedly of Dumbledore and the Mirror of Erised, Harry guessed this spell was the one the old man had used all those years ago. It took quite a bit of concentration and magic, but once enacted, it cost nothing to keep up—nothing but holding completely still.

Rounding a boulder, Burke appeared, his eyes shifting from side to side. A soft mist was playing around his feet, though it never touched him. The deep brown-red (reminding Harry of dried blood) fog radiated out in a large circle-ish shape from him. Harry stared at it, thinking furiously about what to do. He either didn't know or couldn't remember what this mist was, but it couldn't be anything good. Looking closer, a second mist wrapped around Burke's feet keeping the first at bay. Before the mist could reach him, Harry jumped up onto the rock next to him, firing a spell as he went.

"Mollismanus!" he cast, the bright-pink spell hitting its target. Burke's wand fell from his now jelly-like hand. He quickly picked it up with his right hand, but Harry already was showering down additional spells.

"Contego!" Burke called out, the strongest shield protecting him from Harry's barrage. "Finite Incantatem." He returned his wand to his left hand and spun on the spot, disappearing.

Harry crouched low, looking for him. You can't apparate within Hogwarts wards, Hermione? Looks like you can! Harry thought sarcastically. He whipped around as a severing charm cut into his left arm.

"Quine Flechum!" Harry cried, aiming his wand widely before jumping from the rock he was standing on. The mist was still creeping on the ground and as soon as Harry's legs entered it, they were filled with pain. "Never want to touch the mist the Ledemanio Charm produces, Harry. It's exactly why you should never touch anything if you don't know what it is." Druce's words from a year ago rang in his ears and he jumped back up on the rock, deflecting the spell that was hurtling towards him. He jumped from stone to stone, avoiding Burke's spells and traveling away from the mist. He knew the skin on his legs and feet would be scrapped up, as if he'd been in a bad broom crash or something. They were probably bleeding as well... but... there was no...

"Finite!" he cast to end the dancing charm that had hit him. "Stupefy!" he threw over his shoulder. Finally reaching clear ground, Harry jumped down and took cover, aiming at Burke. They were exchanging spells so quickly now, that Harry could think of nothing else. Spell after spell, shield, attack, shield, attack. Over and over.

"Ardent!" Burke screamed, and Harry took the spell in order to get a small advantage. Using his Occlumency shields, he carefully quartered off a small section of his mind, trapping the spell there.

"Ingravesco! Impedimenta! Incarcerous! Stupefy!" The first two spells missed, but the third one hit. However, as Burke fell, ropes tightly holding him, the stunning spell missed. Harry moved slowly and cautiously, knowing the duel wasn't over quite yet. Burke was by no means immobilized yet.

"Funestus!" Burke cried, and somehow the spell hit Harry, though Burke's wand was firmly trapped at his side.

Oh, dragon dung, Harry swore, knowing that this bout of unluckiness would not be good. Burke cut the ropes and Harry dove for a rock outcrop, but hit his head on a rock as he went down. He shook his head to clear his sight and saw Burke approaching.

Deciding that he would take a chance, Harry spun, thinking of the spot where he had started. The world tightened for a split second and then relaxed, Harry was now crouching where he had started. Maybe because this was the Room of Requirement and as long as you wanted to apparate within its boundaries, you'd be able to. Harry didn't spare any more time on this thought; Burke had apparated nearby, guessing where Harry had gone.

"Avelgule!" Burke said, sending the blinding curse at Harry. He conjured a small metal shield but a second too late, and the spell hit him.

"Spectio!" His sight returned but Burke was no where to be—

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" McGonagall's question tore through the room. A second later, a large rock landed on Harry's head, blinding him once more. "ENOUGH! THAT IS ENOUGH! I WANT BOTH OF YOU BOYS UP IN MY OFFICE RIGHT NOW!" Harry didn't move, waiting for his vision to clear. Unfortunately for him (or, more specifically, unluckily for him) the boulder had hit just the right spot with just the right amount of force to make him black-out. As he started to lose consciousness, the Ardent Curse he had been keeping at bay was freed. The flames overwhelmed him, but thankfully, he was unconscious and couldn't feel them.

He blinked a second later, knowing that the Funestus spell had worn off and though he was on his back and though his mind screamed that he was on fire and though McGonagall was still screaming, he saw Burke bearing down on him.

Harry thought of the rocky-outcrop he had apparated from, and returned there, his disapparation spell making a loud pop. A hurried, "Evanidus," and Harry felt quite safe for the moment.

"HARRY POTTER, SHOW YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!" Harry took one look up at the Headmistress and quickly hurried to her side. "I want both of you gentlemen and you, Thia, up in my office, right this instant. The rest of you are dismissed. Go!"