Harry Potter and Gaining Momentum

Harry wasn't really asleep, but he might as well have been. He couldn't open his eyes to see, nor could he move to speak. At the same time, he could hear people around him, and they seemed to be in a slight panic. They were talking about him; he could hear this. They were also worried about him, and he could feel this. He wanted to reach out and soothe their worries, but his body wouldn't respond. What was wrong with him? He was catching snatches and bits of their conversation, but not enough to know what was going on. He heard a muffled sob ... was that Mrs. Weasley? Someone else was speaking in hushed tones ..... Dumbledore? What the HELL was going on?! Why couldn't he wake up?

"I've never seen anything like it before," Poppy was telling Dumbledore. "It is truly as if he's battling himself, for some reason. His magic is really jammed -- disturbed, I would even go so far as to say. I don't have a proper diagnosis."

"Keep trying, Poppy. I don't need to tell you how important he is to our survival," Dumbledore said gravely.

The truth was, Albus felt really guilty. He'd actually suspected, for more than just a few hours, that Luna had marked Harry. But he knew that if he told Harry, or if Harry found out for himself, he'd soon decipher what it meant. As much as he hated to admit it, Albus had lied. He told himself that he was doing it in Harry's best interest ... just as he had about the prophecy. If what his operatives had said was true, Voldemort was now putting most of his energy into finding the key to immortality. This was actually why there had been an increase in attacks. After Harry had told him who the apprentice was, it made much more sense. Bellatrix Lestrange was a madwoman; she'd make a horrible Sorceress if she achieved too much power. Severus had notified him only a month ago that Tom had stepped up his research on immortality, and his apprentice now had free reign over his followers while he was busy. It made sense now why the attacks were mostly on Muggles and were more frequent; the woman was consumed by the Dark Arts. Dumbledore was sure, just as he was about Tom, that there could be no return for her from the addiction to evil. It seemed as though Voldemort's sole reason for heading wizarding attacks was to let off steam. He was frustrated at the lack of progress, or at least this was Albus' theory. As much as he played ignorant, Dumbledore knew the answer to immortality. Truth be told, he'd even used the means twice now to extend his life. No, he did not intend to live forever, but he refused to depart the earth to leave Harry alone to battle Voldemort by himself.

As much as he knew Harry hated it, he pitied the boy that now lay in the hospital bed, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. He knew that he should have told him his suspicion that Luna had marked him, and that she had been the heir of Ravenclaw. But no matter how many times he thought it over in his head, he knew Harry would not have accepted the gift willingly should Luna begin the next great adventure. Harry needed the boost. He had long suspected that the dam around Harry's magic had been put there by Voldemort when he had tried to possess Harry last year. Harry said he could feel a snake coiling around his chest, around his magical core. He said it was cold, and the most painful thing he'd ever felt -- even worse than a Dementor. That was the barrier, the dam being formed. Albus blamed himself for this too. He should have known that Severus would bait the boy as he did, and that it was a mistake to trust Severus with Harry's care. Though Severus was an excellent Occlumens, Dumbledore still knew what his intentions at the time were. He had purposely put those memories into the pensieve right in front of Harry. He wanted to pique the boy's curiosity so that he'd look into the rune-encrusted bowl. By doing so, Severus would finally be able to shove the arrogance of his father into the boy's face. It pained Albus greatly to think that Harry doubted the love and goodness of his father. He would need the assurance of that love to get through this war.

"What's wrong with him, Headmaster?" Draco asked him anxiously.. Albus heaved a heavy sigh. He was afraid to tell Harry's friends the truth. He didn't want them to feel that Lady Luna was the reason behind this. She should be praised for her forethought. She was very intelligent, and evidently knew that Harry would never win this war without gaining sufficient power to vanquish Tom. Albus knew it would be a battle of wills, in the end. But there would be a duel beforehand that would weaken one or the other, who might then be tortured at the other's whim. Voldemort had a great advantage at this point of the war; but Harry was gaining momentum every day, and Albus was sure that this gift would soon bring on others that would further Harry's talents. Ravenclaw herself had very interesting gifts, one of which Harry already possessed slightly: empathy.

"His magic is battling with itself, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore answered the boy. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth.

"Battling himself, sir?"

"Harry had light magic from his parents, and dark magic from Voldemort residing in himself," Dumbledore said. "When Luna gave him her gift, she shifted the balance Harry had grown accustomed to, and had previously tolerated. One is now trying to fight the other. I'm afraid that the outcome can only be determined by Harry's heart and will. Further, I don't think it would be safe to stay around the wing. I will put up a ward around him. But if the dark magic wins, we must be prepared for the outcome: he may awaken throwing the killing curse."

"Harry would never do that!" Ron said heatedly. Neville looked just as angry at the suggestion.

"I did not say he would; I only meant that it was a possibility. I have great faith in that young man -- more that most know. But we must look at the situation from all angles. There is no definite way we can know until he wakes." Albus realized that all of Harry's friends were now looking at him murderously. Had this been a different time, and definitely a different situation, he would have smiled at them. Harry really was very lucky to have such fiercely loyal friends at his side. He couldn't have picked better if he tried.

"Listen, children --"

"We are NOT children!" Hermione stormed at him. "We have faced Voldemort and his minions more times than most people in the Order, or the Ministry's ranks of Aurors have! Don't you dare stand there self-righteously, and call us children, when you yourself have only had the chance to duel it out with Voldemort three times!" Albus frowned at the girl. Everything she said was absolutely true. How she knew he'd only faced Tom three times was beyond him, but he couldn't argue the point. This required a future decision he'd been contemplating for some time now: these young people would most likely be joining the Order with Harry on Harry's birthday.

"Hermione, dear, calm down," Mrs. Weasley said soothingly, but she was unable to make much effort due to her own hiccups from sobbing.

"No, she is absolutely right. They have not been mere children for some time now. Children would not have to face such dangers and worries. Children don't design curses to kill Dementors. Children don't go through private training to learn to throw off the Imperius Curse, or learn Occlumency to guard their precious minds. She's right, Molly: they have long since stepped onto the path of adulthood -- better adults than most I know," Albus sighed. He felt every minute of his age creeping back to taunt him for his over-extended life. "As I was going to say before I used such an incorrect expression, Harry will come out of this, as he has every time before. He needs to hear your voices, your thoughts of him, and needs to know you love him. Those will be the things that bring his light magic to victory. I will put up my ward, but it will not repel the Killing curse -- or perhaps any, if the dark magic subverts that which is good. You are to be on your toes. Be alert, and don't sleep. This time, from now until he wakes, will be one of the most important of his life. He needs you near."

No one said a word after he spoke. All of Harry's friends had changed their visages from fury to determination. He began to feel his age recede once again. The pride he held in his heart for this group of children could only be matched by one other group: a group that had been responsible for the events currently taking place. Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had been just as tight-knit as the group before him now was. They'd influenced this day as much as fate herself had. Lily and James both gave birth to Harry. Sirius gave Harry a fleeting glimpse of what it was like to have a loving parent. Peter had brought the prophecy upon Harry. Remus had been betrayed, and had shown Harry that he could forgive. There was none, save one, from that group, or the group now in his presence, that he couldn't trust with his life, or that of the world.

"Be sure he can hear and feel you," Albus said gently, before he left the wing. He had bad news to deliver to Lady Lovegood's father.

Something hurt, but Harry couldn't tell what it was. It was within him, but it didn't feel like it was a part of him. He felt a dull intuition, as if his soul, or the very reason for his being, was in pain. It wasn't so much a physical pain, as a swirl of emptiness. The better of two natures seemed to be taunting him with its mere sensation. The emptiness or darkness would descend upon him and settle in before it would be filled, only to be emptied again. It hurt. He felt longing, hope, bitterness, forgiveness, lust, and love ... love. He tried to cling to the feeling, and thought of his friends and family.

He felt Petunia kissing him lightly on the cheek as he left, just after their Christmas conversation; it filled him with tingling warmth ... He felt the hurt at being thrown into his cupboard once again because Dudley had lied to his mother about who had really broken Petunia's favorite vase ... He saw Ron falling to the ground from the knight that was set upon the giant chess piece; and he felt remorse, but also pride ... He saw him crouching over himself in his Animagus form to shield him from Voldemort's wrath, and felt the loyalty ..... He felt the emptiness that Ron had left behind when he stopped talking to Harry in fourth year, because he had thought that Harry was lying about putting his name into the Goblet of Fire ... He felt gratefulness toward Hermione when she was helping him get Sirius away from Hogwarts, after he had proven himself innocent to Harry ... He felt the ache in his chest when Hermione was lying on the hospital bed in the infirmary after she had been petrified ... Like Ron, he felt waves of loyalty when Neville was also crouching over him as a furry shield, then fighting alongside him at the Ministry ... He then felt the uncertainty and the guilt from the confrontation last Christmas at the long-term ward in St. Mungo's ... The feeling of pride for Ginny, waltzing up to Tom to divert his attention away from Luna and her other friends just behind her ... He felt the regret and panic that he'd experienced when Ginny was lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, and the feeling that he'd been too late ..... Sirius, dying to save his godson's life, so he might live to save the Wizarding world ... Sirius dying ... Lupin dueling Bellatrix to protect Harry at Privet Drive ... Fear from the sight of Remus transforming into a werewolf ..... The security of Molly and Arthur coddling him like a child of the family ..... The feeling of watching Molly wail with grief when she faced the Boggart at Grimmauld Place, two summers ago ... Dumbledore, fighting the darkest wizard in centuries, to preserve Harry's life, if only for a short time ... The feeling Harry felt toward the headmaster for lying to him for fifteen years, and making him live with the Dursleys ... Draco making his countless remarks about Harry's dead parents, about the Dark Lord being after him, about Hermione being a Mudblood, Ron being poor, throwing his father in everyone's face, being favored by Snape relentlessly ... Draco -- Draco lying underneath him and declaring his passion for him. The sweat, the friction, the lust, the hunger, the love ... the love.

His body seemed to give and was finally released from its magical bindings. He knew he could move, but didn't know how. The feeling within his chest was almost too much to hold in; he wanted to burst with joy, happiness, hope, love. It felt too much to contain -- too selfish to contain. It wasn't right to keep it to himself: everyone should feel it; everyone deserved to feel it. He mentally smiled at the warmth it brought. Not overly hot, but warm, like a relaxing bath just after a Quidditch match in January.. It felt like compliments, like victory, like the phoenix song.

Someone was calling his name ... no ... people were calling his name. The voices sounded reassuring, comforting. Who were they? Was he dead? Was it his parents ..... Sirius? No ... he knew these voices. He had heard them often ... Ron? Hermione? Why were they in heaven? He felt he needed to open his eyes, but he was afraid he'd lose the feeling; the sense of security would escape into the wide world. He knew it was selfish, but he deserved it also, didn't he? He'd done his part; he'd held Voldemort at bay for a long time now. Didn't he deserve happiness? Fighting every urge to listen to the side that thought he could keep it all, he needed to open his eyes. His friends and family had gone through just as much with him. They deserved to feel love also. He cracked open his eyelids.

"Harry?" Draco said in a whisper. It almost sounded painful. "Oh, Harry," Draco gasped, taking Harry's face in his hands and kissing him on the forehead.

"Harry, we were so worried!" Hermione whispered loudly. "Are you hurt? Do you hurt?" Harry smiled. He didn't lose his love; it was standing all around him.

"Is he smiling?" Ron asked, sounding appalled.

"He is," Neville said anxiously.

"Harry, can you hear us? Say something!" Ginny finally shouted.. If he spoke, would the feeling escape through his mouth? ... no ... that was silly.

"Hi, guys," Harry said in a thin raspy voice.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione shouted almost in his ear.

"Wha--," Poppy began, irritated. "Oh! Harry, you're awake!"

"Good day, Poppy," Harry said cheerfully, but still in his raspy voice.

"Headache?" she asked, ignoring Harry's greeting. Harry shook his head, still smiling. "Pain anywhere? Chest, perhaps?" Harry shook his head again. The medi-witch frowned at him. "Are you sure, Mr. Potter?"

"I've never felt better, Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes, well -- I have to floo the headmaster. He asked to be summoned as soon as you woke," she replied. She didn't sound very convinced ... did he not sound convincing?

"Do you feel it?" Harry almost whispered.

"Feel what?" Hermione asked, looking around awkwardly.

"The warm sensation. The security," Harry explained, not understanding why only he could feel it.

"It's not warm in here ... it's actually comfortable. Poppy just renewed the cooling charm a few minutes ago," Hermione said, frowning.

"I feel it," Draco whispered now also.

"Feel what?" Ginny asked, exasperated.

"The fulfillment," Draco said, finally looking at her. She frowned at him, confused. Both Neville and Ron were looking at Draco and Harry as if they'd lost it.

"No, not fulfillment," Harry said. Hermione reached for Harry's other hand, but hesitated. "Go ahead," Harry coaxed. She looked at him suspiciously before taking it. She gasped.

"It's ... it's ... beautiful," she said, awed.

"What's beautiful?" Ron said, getting irritated.

"Touch him, Mr. Weasley, and you will find out," a kind voice said from the end of the ward. Ginny, Neville, and Ron's heads snapped up to look at him. Ron looked at Dumbledore like he'd lost his mind also, but moved to the head of the bed and put a hand on Harry's forehead. The boy's eyes glazed up a bit.

"What do you feel, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"Hope?" he said in a questioning voice.

"Nope," Harry said, letting out a slight giggle. Ginny rolled her eyes and huffed, before moving to lay a hand on Harry's arm.

"Wow," she said, clearly stunned.

"Well?" Neville demanded, now being the only one not feeling anything.

"Truth? Gentleness?" she said, looking at Harry, confused. He shook his head. Finally, in an attempt to get the answer himself, Neville moved to the side of Hermione, and tentatively touched Harry's arm also. He said nothing.

"Well, Mr. Longbottom? What's your diagnosis?" Albus said, smiling.

"Assurance, kindness ... love," he said. Harry beamed at him.

"Yes."

"I thought so," Dumbledore said, allowing himself to sit next to Harry in the bed just on the other side of Hermione. She finally took her hand from his and looked at his hand longingly. Apparently her love of knowledge and answers was overriding her urge to cling to the feeling Harry was radiating..

"Why ... or how, is he doing that?" she asked the headmaster.

"Rowena Ravenclaw was known for having many gifts. The most popular was empathy," he explained.

"But empathy is feeling others, not the other way around," Hermione said, frowning at the old wizard.

"Ah, yes, but, Harry is also a Legilimens. Therefore, he projects what he feels also."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking back down at Harry with interest. "But ... wasn't he already empathic?"

"To a small degree. Everyone who knows Legilimency has a slight talent for it, but it's just enough to get by." Hermione nodded, clearly in deep thought.

"You don't think I'm going to end up getting more gifts, do you?" Harry asked, frowning.

"What do you mean by gifts?" Albus asked.

"You know what I mean. I don't want to spend another year getting magical gifts and such. It was almost too much to cope with this year," Harry complained. Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses, and cocked his head a bit to the side.

"Harry, most wizards and witches would give some of their extremities to have even one of your gifts, yet you speak of them as though they were burdens."

"Of course I do! I didn't ask for them!" Harry huffed.

"I know you didn't," Albus said calmly. He noticed that the others were looking at him like they were irritated, and started to feel a bit self-conscious. "But they give you more potential to fulfill your destiny."

"His destiny is what he makes it," Draco growled at the old man. Albus looked at him queerly for a moment, then looked at Harry again. "Could I ask you all to step out for a moment while I speak with Harry?" Harry narrowed his eyes at the headmaster. But when he saw that they were all looking at him to see if he wanted them to go, he waved them off, and thanked them for being there when he woke.

"Why'd you send them away?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Just five minutes ago he had been in a state of bliss, and now he was in a bad mood again.

"Harry, you have to understand that because of how strong your empathy is, you have to keep a cool head when others are around. Did you not notice that all your friends were looking at me like they wanted to rip me apart? Did you hear Mr. Malfoy growl at me?"

"Sorry," Harry said, but only half meant it.

"Quite all right. You should be able to do that without any training, so I won't add any more trainers to those you will already have this summer," Albus said. Harry wasn't sure if he was trying to make a joke or not, but he still didn't laugh. "I really wanted to speak with you about Mr. Lovegood."

"What about him?" Harry asked.

"He wants to speak with you. No, don't worry," Albus hastened to ease, "I told him it would have to be at your leisure, due to your continuous training. But he did ask that you make time before the new term starts. I'm not sure what he wants to speak with you about, but when you're ready to go, I'll have an Order member accompany you." Harry stared at the old man for a moment. Why did Luna's father want to speak with him? Was he angry? Well, Harry reasoned, he has every right to be.

"How angry was he?" Harry asked, looking away, unable to meet Dumbledore's piercing eyes.

"Why would he be angry?" Albus asked. Harry looked at him as if he'd gone insane. "Harry, he's not angry. Upset, yes, but not angry. He's always been proud of her, but he's more proud now that I've ever seen him. Leroy is probably one of the most open-minded wizards you'd ever hope to meet." Even after hearing this, Harry still had no desire to meet with him. How could you tell a fully-qualified wizard, one of the light side, that you were responsible for his daughter's death? And on top of that, that you took her magic after the fact? The answer was simple: you couldn't; it just wasn't right.

"I'll see if I can fit it in," Harry said, trying to either change the subject or hint that he was against the idea. Albus looked over his glasses at Harry once more, but this time he looked stern.

"Harry," he said in a stern voice, "she did a great thing for you; the least you could do is to respect her passing by having a short meeting with her father." Harry heaved a heavy sigh that didn't seem to take the weight off his chest, and finally looked up toward the headmaster.

"Fine; I'll do it sometime this summer. I just don't think I have the energy to do it anytime soon," Harry said, getting depressed once more.. Albus nodded in approval.

"That's all that I ask, Harry," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, the Order has been hanging around to get word on your condition. I think it's time I alleviate their fears, and tell them you're all right. Remus has bitten his fingernails to the nub. Take a nice rest, and I'm sure Poppy will let you out by morning so you can spend your last day this term with your friends." Harry nodded.

"Oh, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"How long was I out?"

"Four days; the end of term is tomorrow. Have a good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said, turning to leave.

"Evening, Professor," he said as Dumbledore left. Harry lay back in his bed again. He had so many things running through his mind. Was he going to lose another friend during the war? Was he going to live through the war himself? Luna's dying seemed to weigh on his shoulders. For some reason he felt obligated to avenge her death, but he wasn't sure why. Of course, he'd felt the same way when Sirius died; he had actually wanted to hunt Bellatrix down and kill her. Hell, he'd even used an unforgivable curse on her! But for some odd reason, he wanted to make Voldemort feel pain beyond imagination for his role in Luna's death; even more for having been the one who had caused it. He didn't just want to kill Voldemort: he wanted the demon to feel the pain of every person he'd ever killed -- his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Luna, all those small Muggle children from the schools -- everyone. With newfound vigor, he vowed to himself that he would train extra hard this summer. It didn't matter if he had to be up day and night with no sleep; Voldemort would be gone, as soon as possible.

"Next term, Riddle," Harry hissed to himself in an angry voice, "next year by this time, you'll be dead."

Harry woke refreshed the next morning. It was a new day, and the first day he was going to start approaching his training with a new level of seriousness.. Up until now, he'd been training and studying at a comfortable pace, his own pace. But now he was going to be training as fast as he could. He didn't care how much sleep he would lose, or how much he wouldn't get to see his friends or Draco. In the end, Voldemort would be dead, and he'd have all the time in the world to do those things.

Madam Pomfrey released him about an hour before lunch, and he joined the others in the Great Hall. Neville still looked decidedly down, but Harry could understand why. He thought about offering condolences, but didn't think they'd help much; after all, they hadn't helped him when Sirius had died. He loaded his plate, deciding not to dawdle. If he was going to be more serious from now on, he would need to take his emotions off his sleeve, and face everything with a stone face. Though Dumbledore had told him last year that his ability to feel was what made him different from Voldemort, Harry still thought that his emotions were holding him back ... hampering his training. He didn't want to necessarily forgo caring altogether; he just needed to get it through his overly-thick head that this was war. People die in wars, whether they're friend or foe. If he was going to make sure nothing more dire happened to those he loved, he was going to have to cast aside his feelings, and get down to business, so he could defeat Voldemort.

"Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry gulped as he looked up to see Ginny looking at him with concern. Actually, he could feel her concern. It was going to take some time to get this new power under control.

"Do you feel all right?" she asked. Though she wasn't thinking when she said it, she immediately seemed to grasp the enormity of what she'd said. Of course he wasn't all right; no one was.

"I will be, Gin," Harry said. He felt her mood change slightly to a more content, neutral feeling, before she nodded, looking more satisfied than she felt, and went back to her lunch.

"So," Hermione began, uncomfortable with the silence, Harry could tell: "how does this new empathy thing work?"

"You're feeling unnerved or uncomfortable at the moment," Harry blurted out. Hermione blushed, as if she'd been read like a book. "Occlumency, guys; I really need those walls up so I can feel my own feelings right now. I know it's hard, but I can hardly be ten feet away from someone without feeling their mood," he explained.

"Can't you just use Occlumency?" Ron asked. Leave it to Ron to think of another alternative so that he didn't have to do anything.

"Sure, if you don't mind me shifting around in your thoughts," Harry said again, bluntly.

"What do you mean, in our thoughts?" he asked.

"Look, the two gifts can have disastrous effects if used at the same time. I can't actually hear your thoughts, but I can ... I don't know ... feel .... no ... sense them? Does that make sense? Anyway, it'd be like forced Legilimency without even trying. Depending on what kind of mood I was in, it'd bring the same moods to the surface of all of your minds." At their blank looks, he elaborated. "Okay, think of a Dementor (just about everyone around Harry, including himself, shivered). Every time they're around, you see the worst parts of your life replayed in your head. I, for instance, hear my mother scream as Voldemort killed her. If I were in a bad mood around you guys, I could be just like a Dementor. Of course, I couldn't suck your souls out, but those memories would come to the surface due to the Occlumency/Legilimency and the empathy being used at the same time. I have a magical focus tutor coming to Privet Drive tomorrow. But until he shows me how to handle both at the same time, I need you guys to help," he said. Hermione and Ginny looked absolutely frightened at the fact that Harry could have the same effect a Dementor would. Neville looked scared too, but still didn't utter anything. Ron, on the other hand, was feeling slightly jealous; Harry could feel it like a bludger in the face. Ron apparently saw the darkened look on Harry's face before he grinned sheepishly and went back to his meal. He was apparently trying to convince himself not to blame Harry, because after a few seconds, Harry felt his mood go neutral again.

As he sat there, he could feel their feelings being overshadowed by their mental walls. He was thoroughly impressed at their aptitude for the art of Occlumency. He felt a rush of pride that he was responsible for that. After about five minutes, they were all looking at him, wanting to know if it was working.

"Neville, just a bit more," Harry said, without even looking up from his plate. He felt Neville's walls totally drop from embarrassment. Harry sighed loudly, and looked up at the other boy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to single you out," he said sympathetically. "But as soon as I said something you lost all concentration. Would you mind seeing Professor Snape for a few minutes, so he can help you build them back up?" Harry asked.

Professor Snape, from what Poppy has said, had demanded to be released as soon as he came to. Of course, the medi-witch protested. But like all others who went up against the wrath of the Potions master, she soon relented. She gave him orders to come back once a day for a week so she could check up on him. Harry had a fleeting feeling that Snape had only agreed to appease her; he had no intention of returning to the Hospital wing.

"I'll go now, Harry," Neville said, standing.

"No, finish your lunch. I can handle one, just not everyone," Harry said. The boy was as loyal as they came, and Harry felt bad that the day after Luna died, he was still striving to please Harry ... undeservedly.

"No, it's okay; I was done anyway," Neville said, still rising.. Harry could tell he was lying, and he didn't even have to look up; he could sense it.

"I know you're lying. Sit, eat, and you can go as soon as we're done. You don't have to do everything I say at the drop of a hat; I'm not a professor," Harry reasoned, finally looking up at the boy.

"M'sorry," Neville mumbled. Harry scowled at him.

"Why do you insist on doing that?!" he snapped. Neville was beginning to act like Harry demanded respect of all those in his presence. Like he was his master?! He was NOT Voldemort! Neville visibly cringed at Harry's voice.. Ron shot a dirty look at Harry in Neville's defense, and Hermione's lips were at a very thin line.

"S-Sorry," Neville said, in the same voice he used with Professor Snape.

"That," Harry shouted at him, "That is exactly what I'm talking about! Stop apologizing; stop jumping to my every order! I don't command you!" Harry was shouting at him, and many of the other Gryffindors were now quieting to listen to them.

"Harry! He's being polite! There's nothing wrong with that!" Hermione finally snapped back at him.

"I'm not bloody Tom Riddle; I'm not going to use an Unforgivable on him if he doesn't do as I say the second I've suggested it. He needs to learn to think for himself ... I'm tired of this!" Harry said, standing. The bench he was sitting on, including everyone on it, slid back to accommodate him. People who were sitting on it squealed, but Harry didn't seem to notice. Ron, who was sitting between Neville and Hermione, now stood up also.

"No one said you were! Stop taking your anger out on Neville! He didn't do anything to you," Ron said fiercely. Hermione was now backing slightly away from Ron. The power the boy held was now radiating off him, just as it was Harry. Other people, including Neville, were backing away from the two of them. He could also feel Ron's anger in much the same way he could feel Dumbledore's in his fourth year, when he had stunned the fake Moody.

"Who are you to order me around?!" Harry spat. His magic was beginning to course; he could feel it rushing to his hands, and they began to tingle worse than they did when fresh blood returned to them after they fell asleep.

"Someone has to! Apparently the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived doesn't live by the rules!"

Harry was seeing red now. He slammed his hands down on the table and students around the hall screamed when three-fourths of the glass goblets exploded, spraying everyone with pumpkin juice and the like.

"Enough!" a curt voice cut through the shouts. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you will both control your tempers this instant!" Snape barked. Harry looked over to see half of the staff on their feet with wands drawn; this included Dumbledore.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. and Ms. Weasley, Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom, you will all see me in my office in five minutes. Move!" Dumbledore ordered. Harry disappeared on the spot, while everyone else had to walk to the gargoyle and up the stairs. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore repaired all the goblets before walking out of the Great Hall, with Professors Snape and McGonagall in tow.

Harry sat brooding. How could Ron say those things? He knew Harry hated the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense. Harry did admit, maybe he had been a bit harsh with Neville ... actually, Harry supposed, he had been outright rude. Hermione and Ron were clearly not happy with him, and Harry began to understand why. Neville was insecure, and he looked toward those who weren't for reassurance. But what Neville didn't understand was that Harry was insecure in a lot of ways also. Neville felt better knowing he was doing something that was helpful, just as Harry did. The only difference was, Neville depended on that. He depended on an authority figure to tell him what to do; it was almost like being a servant. Harry didn't want Neville as a servant; he wanted him as a friend. Hell, he had almost been the person of the prophecy! If anyone was Harry's equal besides Voldemort, it was Neville. He hated the way the boy scurried around to please Harry and the others; it reminded him of Pettigrew and Voldemort. Voldemort would give a command, and Peter would scuttle away to fulfill it. Harry would just mention an idea, and Neville would do his best to make it happen. He didn't want to drive Neville away, like his father and Sirius did Pettigrew; he wanted Neville to stay at his side, as an equal, as a friend. Would Neville be the Peter Pettigrew of this generation? Would he succumb to the power of the Dark Lord, and sell his friends out for that same power? No, Harry told himself, Neville would never do anything like that. But why not? Peter did. He was the last one anyone would have suspected. Lupin and Sirius suspected each other. Hell, even his father had suspected Lupin. Why would Neville's case be any different?

Harry's musings were cut short when the door to the office opened, and the crowed began to trudge in. Hermione and Ron still looked fit to be tied, and Neville, whom this all revolved around, looked scared. Harry stood and offered Neville his seat, but the boy just looked at Harry with a frightened eye before turning to acknowledge his headmaster and the two Heads of House as they swept into the room.

"I'm appalled," Professor McGonagall began, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"Professor, if I may?"

"Of course, Headmaster," she said, still glaring at the students before her.

"May I ask what that was all about?" Albus asked, looking at Ron and Harry. Ron met the old man's eye, but Harry dropped his head shamefully. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I lost my temper and I know it was wrong. I just .... I ....." Harry put his face in his hands. He truly was ashamed of what he had done. Emotions were high due to Luna's passing, and Harry was nervous about his upcoming training. "I'm lost," he stated in a deflated tone, not looking up.

"Lost?" McGonagall repeated, not understanding.

"Yes, lost. It's the only way I can explain it. I've worked and worked this year to do everything I could to ward off that sorry sack of ... sorry, Voldemort. I've tried so hard. And then four days ago, the git shows me that he still has me where he wants me: under his thumb. He took another friend from me ... by killing her. Lupin told me about Peter, how he was scared into switching sides, how he was always the weak one, and how he craved the power to be something more. He sold out my parents for that power. Then at lunch, I saw so much of Peter in Neville. He jumped to do as I suggested as soon as the words were out of my mouth, just like Peter did with my father and Sirius. He's so eager to please, like he has something he constantly has to prove to me. Peter acted the same way; and later, he was bullied into joining Voldemort out of fear and empty promises. I just ... I lost it. I don't want a servant out of Neville; I want a friend. He makes me feel like I'm Voldemort when he tries to obey my every whim. I hate it," Harry said, taking his face out of his hands and leaning back in the chair Neville had refused to take from him. He looked to Dumbledore to see a slight pity in his eyes.

"You think NEVILLE would turn on us!" Ron shouted. Apparently the explanation wasn't good enough for him. Harry turned to look at him. Ron was red in the face and absolutely ready to explode.

"No one ever thought Peter would, and yet he did. That's the point I'm trying to make, Ron. I don't want to believe he would, but the way he acts around us ... I ... I just can't help thinking --"

"Neville would never do that. He's loyal to a fault with you. I don't know what's been running around in that overactive mind of yours, Harry, but you've got some nerve. Neville's scared of his own shadow, for crying out loud!" Hermione yelled. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she clamped a hand over it. She looked absolutely mortified at what she'd just said. "Oh my God, Harry ... you're right. That's exactly the way Peter was," she breathed in realization.

"You too!" Ron yelled at her, then turned to scowl at Harry again.

"While I can understand where you are all coming from, I must impress upon you, with insistence, not to condemn those who might fail you, until they have done so," Dumbledore said, finally taking a seat behind his desk.

"I don't want to, I don't like to. But none of my father's friends condemned anyone until it was too late. I'm just ... I don't know ... scared. I don't like it when he acts as if I'm giving him orders. I would die for him, and it pains me that someone a lot like him was given the same kind of trust by my father -- who was betrayed," Harry said.

"Harry," Professor McGonagall said, "I understand your way of thinking, really. But don't you think it's a bit harsh for you to think Neville would betray you?" she asked in a pitying tone. Harry had the urge to tell her to stop treating him like a child, but bit back the comment.

"I'm not ... well ... I'm not exactly saying he'll betray me. I just want him to think for himself. I've been trying to help them all year, so that they'll be prepared for anything that comes their way due to being friends with me. But Neville still can't seem to think without someone else telling him to. I want him to join me at Privet Drive for the summer for training. I want him to get the same training I will be getting, to help him become more confident," Harry said.

"Harry, this will be Neville's first holiday with his parents ... ever. I understand that you want to protect him, but he has his own family," Severus said. All of them looked at him like he'd gone mad.

"Since when have you been nice to Harry?" Ron shot back at him..

"Ron," Harry said, cutting him off. "Professor Snape and I have gotten much closer over the course of the year. The only reason no one has noticed is because we both agreed that for the sake of his cover, he couldn't very well let on that we were getting along. I think Ginny knew, but she stayed quiet about it," Harry explained.

"You knew?" Ron said, looking at Ginny like she was a traitor.

"Of course I did!" she shot back. "I was there when they both went to St. Mungo's to help --" she stopped abruptly and clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes were wide at what she'd just revealed, and again, Harry put his face in his hands.

"I already knew," Neville said, for the first time, speaking up.

"Knew what?" McGonagall asked. Harry looked up at Neville.

"How did you know?" he asked. Neville shrugged.

"Mum and Dad told me. They said they had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know, so I kept quiet about it. It was the reason I've been doing everything I can to make the year more comfortable for you. It's also the reason I didn't take offense to Luna giving you the gift she did, and not me. After what you did for me, you deserved it much more than I do," he answered. Harry swore under his breath. This was the reason Neville was 'aiming to please.'

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Neville," he said, and sat back, slumping in his chair.

"I understand why," Neville said. "You've got training all summer. If too many people found out, you would have had to spend all summer at St. Mungo's, healing people rather than training." Harry nodded. It was true: as much as he wished he could help all those in St. Mungo's, he didn't have the time if he was to defeat Voldemort before this war got any worse.

"Is anyone going to tell us what is going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked, huffing a bit.

"I think Ms. Weasley just told on Mr. Potter for leaving school grounds," Dumbledore said. "Of course, because he was with a Professor, he can't very well be punished. But I think the gist of the conversation was about Mr. Potter bringing the Senior Longbottoms out of their ... situations," Dumbledore guessed rather well. Harry nodded.

"You did that?" McGonagall said, astonished.

"Professor Snape helped," Harry said. Severus snorted.

"I'm sure holding your hand to keep you grounded added very little, compared to the effort you put into the procedure," Snape said, rolling his eyes at Harry. Harry shot him a withering smirk.

"Is there anything else you've been holding back that you'd like to share with us?" Professor McGonagall said sarcastically. Harry shot a look at Snape who just raised an eyebrow.

"I've been residing in the Gryffindor Suite; and I let Professor Snape move into the Slytherin Suite. I've been getting instruction from both Godric and Salazar," Harry admitted. No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity as they all stared at him. Of course, his friends knew that he was getting instruction from Godric, but not Slytherin. Snape was the only one who knew that they were both giving Harry lessons.

"Your ... 'more capable instructor?'" McGonagall asked, still a bit shocked. Harry nodded. She wheeled around to Snape. "And you knew about this?"

"He had me -- blackmailed. He said I could use his library if I kept quiet ..... I agreed. The information was most helpful," Snape sneered at her.. Harry smirked at Snape, pleased.

"Blackmail?!" the transfiguration professor screeched.

"It seemed only fair at the time," Harry defended. "It was the only place I was comfortable after Draco and I --" he didn't need to finish. Everyone knew what he was going to say. It was a hard subject for him to speak about, so no one pushed the matter of the breakup.

"I see," she commented. Hermione cleared her throat and Harry looked at her. She gave him a pointed look, but Harry was oblivious. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't you think you should tell them about the other thing between you and Draco?" she asked under her breath. Harry didn't know what she was speaking of at first, but then it dawned on him.

"No, that is only our business," Harry said defiantly.

"It could come up in the future. It only seems fair they should know now," she said. Harry shook his head.

"Unless you or Draco tells, no one but us knows," he said. Even the Headmaster looked confused at this.

"Well, since I can see there's no use trying to get that out of you, is there anything else you'd like to inform us of?" Albus asked, twinkling like he very well knew what was going on.

"Only that I've created a few spells of my own ... in my spare time, for the end," Harry said. Everyone knew what he meant by end; no one had to have that elaborated upon.

"Such as?" Dumbledore prompted.

"One is an alternative to the Killing Curse which isn't yet known, so that it can't be deemed illegal until after I use it; and the other is a sacrificial curse," he informed them.

"Sacrificial?" Hermione repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. "What exactly does it do?" she said stonily.

"If I were to fail at killing him and keeping myself alive, I'm taking him with me. The spell was developed to do exactly that," Harry admitted. He'd worked on these spells all year, and had only finished them last week. He was quite proud of them, truth be told. It was his alternative if he should fail.

"I must ask you to bring them to me for examination," Albus said, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Harry. Harry couldn't tell what the old man was thinking or even what his mood was; his face was neutral, and there was no emotion coming from him.

"I can't and I won't. They're mine, and until I use them they are staying hidden away. I know you don't like it, but you wouldn't like them," Harry said.

The meeting ended not long after. It was nice to have so much off his chest and out of his mind. He, Neville, and Ron had made up. Ron now understood Harry's reasoning, though he didn't necessarily like it. Neville promised to drop by after his Order of the Phoenix camp and visit, and perhaps even join in some lessons. Dumbledore told Harry that he'd like to see the Gryffindor Suite sometime, and Harry agreed to show him next term. In the meantime, Harry had gone back to the dorm and the Suite to collect his things and pack. Harry didn't know where it had all come from, but it seemed that he'd accumulated a lot of possessions over the last six years. Harry couldn't believe that he had three trunks full of books now. He felt a bit like Hermione. They all met in the Great Hall for the Leaving Feast. And it wasn't till then that Harry thought of the run-in with Voldemort again. Dumbledore was now making his end-of-term speech.

"It is with a heavy heart that we once again leave this great castle that is Hogwarts. I ask you to leave not looking at the past, but at what will come. Just like two years ago, we have again lost one of our number. I ask you all to raise your glasses to a dear student. She fought for what she believed was right, in more ways than one. She stood up against those who taunted her because she was different. She took sympathy on those whom she loved and admired, and she fought bravely while in the very grip of Voldemort, in her last minutes. I beg you to remember her not as you thought of her, but as she was. She saved numerous lives this last week, more than most of you will ever know. She, in her passing, left a gift to be treasured for centuries to come; and because of that, I ask you to give a tribute to Luna Lovegood, Lady of Ravenclaw," he said.

"To Luna Lovegood!" the Great Hall rang out. Harry was the first to sit again. He felt like his legs were made of jelly. He had, of course, looked at her the same way that Dumbledore did, but it seemed so wrong to look at her this way. It didn't seem as if it was enough.

"Thank you. I have just a few more words to leave you with before I let you begin the lavish feast before you. In the future, you will all be faced with challenges for the side you will choose in this war. No matter how much you had hoped to, you will not be able to remain neutral. Voldemort won't stop until either he has you, or he knows you are on the side of light. I ask you not to take the easy and troubled path, but rather the narrow and good. In the end, it will, of course, be your choosing; but I must impress upon you the significance of the decision," he said, looking over his glasses with appraising eyes. "Let the feast begin."

After the feast was over everyone waited with an air of anticipation was the winner of the house cup was going to be announced. The Quidditch cup went to Gryffindor, as usual, but Harry was glad. Next year he didn't think he would be able to be on the team, he simply wouldn't have enough time. He was glad his last year on the team was a good one. Ron would keep the teams spirits up. Dumbledore now stood.

"While every year it has been tradition to award the house cup to a house of Hogwarts, this year we will not. I am doing this because I refuse to say that one house has earned anymore recognition than any other. All the houses this year have done well. I'm proud of all of you. Dismissed."

There was a stunned silence for a moment before everyone got up and left. No one was even whispering.

"Well, I personally think it's for the best. What better way to pull the school together than to refuse to let them compete?" Hermione said as they made their way back to the Common Room.

"While I agree somewhat, I still can't shake the feeling that he did it for some other reason that what he's telling us. It seemed like he was hiding something," Harry said.

"Your empathy was probably just making it hard to feel Dumbledore correctly," Ginny said. "Wait until you get it under control then ask Dumbledore about the house cup. You'll know for sure then." Harry just nodded, not completely convinced.

"I think it's rubbish," Ron said flatly, everyone rolled their eyes at him, but no one scolded him.

***

Harry woke the next morning in his dorm room, where he had decided to sleep the last night. He was surprised at how at home he felt there. The night before he had lain there for hours, just listening to the breathing of his fellow roommates as they all sank into their last night of slumber before they would go home. The train was leaving at nine o'clock in the morning this time, but Harry's friends would be taking a Portkey to their respective residences. Harry himself would be apparating. Now he sat in Dumbledore's office, waiting for the others to arrive before he left to his Aunt's house for the summer. He didn't want to leave without telling them goodbye first. Hermione was the first to arrive.

"You'll be at home this year?" Harry asked, standing as she walked in. She shook her head.

"Dumbledore suggested we take a holiday abroad as soon as possible, to deter any dark activity around me," she said. Her tone wasn't accusing, and Harry was very grateful. He just nodded at her.

"Where to this year?" he asked.

"We're starting in Italy, but we're hoping to catch an early summer flight over the pond to the States. My parents have been before, and just adored it there. Say everything is top notch for them," she said, beginning to gush. "How 'bout you?"

"Aunt's house. She actually asked me to come back this time. I'm hoping for a productive summer, and from the way Dumbledore's talking, it may be overproductive," he said, grinning. She laughed lightly before Ginny and Ron made it up. Ron was huffing because he was hauling two trunks. Ginny looked highly amused as she watched him struggle to lift both. Super-strength indeed!

"I told him my trunk was full of books, but he insisted on trying to bring both up," she said, sitting next to Hermione on her trunk while Ron stacked his and Ginny's.

"I may be a bit stronger than before, but I don't ever remember having that many O.W.L. books," Ron said, huffing and panting. He sat on top of the trunks and wiped his brow.

"Yes, well, Mum and Dad couldn't actually afford to buy all the alternative resources for you like they could for me. I probably had at least two recommended reading books for every course text this year," she said, smirking.

"But," Ron stammered, "That's ... twelve, three ... Thirty-six books!" he yelled. Hermione and Harry were grinning at the two.

"I told you it'd be heavy," she said in an innocent voice. Ron just scowled at his younger sister.

"So, Burrow or Grimmauld Place this year?" Harry asked, looking at Ron; it seemed to divert his attention from his sister to himself.

"Neither, actually," Ginny piped up. Harry tilted his head and furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, Mum says that Headquarters is going to be really busy this summer, and the Burrow isn't safe right now. So Ginny and I are staying with Charlie in Romania this summer, or for the better part of it. I think they're letting us come back around the end of July for some reason. But Charlie said he'd take us around the reservations while we're there. It's going to be bloody fantastic!" he shouted.

"Language, Ron!" Hermione put in; he grinned goofily at her.

"Anyway," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at the two of them, "what'll you be up to this summer, besides this whole training thing?"

Harry shrugged. "As far as I'm aware, that is my whole summer. I'm not about to complain. Some of the people that I'll be getting instruction from are great scholars in their fields. Most have even written some of our school texts," he said. Hermione looked up at this; he was just about to tell her who they were when Neville walked in, panting. He was carrying two trunks of his own.

"Morning, Neville," Hermione said, getting up to help him with his trunks.

"Why didn't you just levitate these?" Hermione asked. Neville stopped in place and looked at her sheepishly.

"Didn't even cross my mind," he said, embarrassed. Everyone laughed at this. They stacked his trunks next to Ginny's and sat on them, just like everyone else did.

"So, what are your plans for the summer?" Ginny asked.

"Well, since Mum, Dad, and Gran are all in the Order, they're sending me to the Order of the Phoenix camp," he said. He looked a bit down about it, but then perked up slightly. "But they said they're only sending me for the first two weeks; then they're bringing me back to spend time with me. Dad says he wants to show me the finer points of dueling." He was beaming from ear to ear as he said this. Harry was happy that he'd have some father-son time with his dad this summer.

"Sounds great," Harry said. He really was happy for his friend.. Neville looked horrified at what he had just said, and opened his mouth as if to apologize, but Harry held up his hand. "I know, but I'm still happy for you." Neville still looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't.. Harry usually hated being pitied, but he didn't mind it so much from Neville. He was just happy Neville wasn't in the same boat he was in any more: the life of an orphan.

"Are you all ready to go?" Dumbledore asked, walking in. He was smiling and twinkling, and Harry could tell he was excited about his upcoming rest from responsibility, if only for a short while. Even the Great Albus Dumbledore needed a break from time to time. They all chorused a "Yes," and Dumbledore removed three Portkeys from his pocket. The first was a Muggle cassette tape.

"Have a good summer, Ronald and Ginerva," Albus said. Harry, Hermione, and Neville all hugged Ginny and Harry, and Neville slapped Ron on the back with a hand shake. Hermione, however, did away with all pretenses, and gave Ron a dizzying kiss, from the looks of it. Dumbledore just stood aside, twinkling.

"Be careful, guys," Harry said. They both nodded as Hermione gave them both another hug. Dumbledore handed them the Portkey, and with a tap of his wand, they both disappeared.

"Ms. Granger," he said, picking up a Muggle CD. Hermione turned and hugged Neville before giving him a kiss on the cheek, then attacked Harry with a fierce hug also.

"You take care of yourself, you prat. I don't want to hear about anyone attacking your house this summer," she said, letting go and putting her hands on either side of his face. "Promise me," she demanded. Harry grew a lump in his throat at these words.

"Promise," he croaked, trying to nod at the same time. She nodded back, satisfied, and stepped toward Dumbledore, taking the compact disk. He tapped it once with his wand, and Hermione disappeared.

"Right, that just leaves Mr. Longbottom," Albus said, holding out a Walkman for him. Dumbledore grinned at Harry. "Thought I'd use a Muggle music theme," he explained. Harry just laughed lightly. Neville turned to shake Harry's hand, but Harry pulled him forward with it and gave him a tight quick hug.

"Keep yourself safe this summer, Neville. I want you and your parents to come visit me. Dumbledore or Remus can show you the way," Harry said. Neville nodded, looking none too fit to speak, and stepped toward the headmaster before taking the Walkman. Dumbledore tapped it with his wand, and Neville, like the other three, disappeared.

"And I believe you wanted to say goodbye to one other person before you left?" Albus said. Harry nodded, and disappeared in a rush of flames. He reappeared the same way in the Potions Master's office, where Draco was sitting in the chair in front of Snape's desk with his feet propped up on his trunk..

"Didn't think you were going to come," Draco admitted, standing. Harry rolled his eyes in a sarcastic sort of manner before he moved to take the other boy in his arms.

"Do you think Snape will let you come over this summer?" he asked. Draco shrugged. "Aunt Petunia will be glad to see you," he said.

"I'll see if I can convince him. You could just pop in and whisk me away," he said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. Harry laughed at him.

"If it comes to that, I just may. Thanks for the idea."

"Anything I can do to help," he said, grinning.

"Be safe this summer," Harry said. He ran a hand through Draco's slicked-back hair, trying not to meet the boy's eyes. Harry knew he was going to get choked up.

"Harry, look at me," Draco said. Harry blinked a few times making sure the tears weren't going to spill before he met the other boy's eyes. "I'm going to be with Severus. You don't have anything to be worried about." Draco was using a soothing voice, but the effect only half worked. Harry snorted at him without humor.

"You're both traitors in Voldemort's eyes. You're as far up on the list now as I am. How can I not be worried?" The tears were beginning to spill. Trying to face the prospect that he could lose Draco was a bit more than he could take. He didn't have to worry about all of his other friends. While they were targets, they hadn't actually done anything personally to the Dark Lord. Severus and Draco had both betrayed him: Severus by spying, and Draco by refusing to join.

"I'll visit you as soon as I can; I promise. Besides, we're spending very little time at the Snape Manor. Most of the holiday is going to be spent here. Severus has most his potions supplies here, and he's going to be working on that variation of the Polyjuice potion," Draco said. Harry nodded.

"Well, I'd best get going," Harry said. He ran a finger over the blonde boy's lips before touching his own to them. He hadn't kissed Draco in so long. He could feel the warmth flush throughout his body as the kiss deepened. They drew back from each other at the same time and took a needed breath. Harry let him back out while speaking, as Draco just stared, stunned at him.

"I love you," Harry said. Neither one moved. Harry couldn't ever remember saying that to anyone. And come to think of it, he'd never remembered anyone saying it to him, either. Draco seemed to shake himself free of his stupor and grabbed Harry in a tight hug.

"I love you too," he whispered into Harry ear. Harry's whole body shivered. When they broke apart again, Harry knew he had to leave this time.. If he didn't, he was going to ravage the man in front of him. Without saying a word, he inclined his head a bit to Draco, and the blond returned the gesture. Harry disappeared as dust fell to the ground. Draco smiled.

"All set?" Albus asked when Harry reappeared in his office. Harry nodded and took one end of his trunk in his hand. "Either I or Remus will be by tomorrow with your first instructor." Harry nodded once again. "Good! Take care, m'boy." And with that, Harry disappeared once again, as dust fell to the carpet of the Headmaster's office. Albus bent down and took a small pinch of the dust. He smiled as he realized what had just happened.

"There may be hope for us yet, Harry," he said to himself.