After the Storm.

Snape was standing by one of the tall library windows, looking out. He turned as Harry shut the door behind him.

'Good evening Mr. Potter.' The new Defence against the Dark arts professor moved to lay his hand on the chair to one side of a massive desk that occupied the shadows to one side of the window. With his wand he indicated the chair on the opposite side.

'Good evening, Professor.' With some trepidation Harry came forward and sat down. He deliberately ignored the penseive on the desk.

'Mr. Potter, you mentioned "strange dreams". Were these under the influence of the Draught of Living Death?' Harry nodded. 'Then I've to ask you to allow me to view them in the penseive. Also what you described as "an out of body experience". Take a few moments to order your thoughts and then recall your memories in the order in which they occurred.' While Harry didn't like it at all, he supposed that there was a good reason for this and simply nodded.

'Ready?' demanded Snape. Harry nodded again and Snape came around the desk to lay his wand against Harry's forehead. Harry closed his eyes and experienced a slightly uncomfortable mental twinge as the first of his Draught of Living Death memories unreeled. He could feel himself swaying and Snape allowed him a few seconds to steady himself.

'Ready?' Again Harry closed his eyes. The second time was worse.

'Ready?'

'Yes.' The last memory was extracted leaving Harry with a sort of fractured feeling, not unlike like the morning after the night that he had drank too much wine.

'That's all.' Harry said, trying not to shiver as he opened his eyes and glanced up.

He looked away quickly. Snape's proximity was unnerving and Harry concentrated on clearing his mind. When he turned back there was no sign of the professor. Harry stood up and looked into the penseive to see himself standing in a pentacle of blue fire with Miranda and Snape standing beside him. While Harry's direct memories were now contained in the penseive, he had thought about these events so often that there were enough reflections of the original information for him to understand what he was seeing. As he watched, the scene blurred for a moment and then cleared into the second of Harry's memories.

Suddenly Snape looked up, an expression of dawning wonder on his face. He's seeing the Web of Souls, thought Harry. Unobserved, he considered the saturnine professor. Seen like this he looked very different from the austere, abrasive man that Harry knew from class. Perhaps this is what Tonks had meant when she . . . Harry shook his head. He did not want to think about that particular incident.

Another blurring and again the scene changed. Harry watched the aftermath of the administration of nerve regeneration potion. He saw again, with surprise, Snape's fury with Dumbledore. Surely the bastard could not be that squeamish? That was a bloody silly idea. Harry got up and went to the window. Outside, ten yards or a million miles away, lay an ordinary Muggle evening where ordinary people lived and loved and went about their business totally unaware of this other life, now threatened by Voldemort. It occurred to Harry suddenly that this too could change. Voldemort would be unlikely to stop at the magical world. He shivered.

'Sit down Mr. Potter.' Snape was back. Harry returned to his seat and sat down. 'I shall now return your memories to you. Close your eyes. This is likely to be disorientating.'

It was. Very. Harry wondered if was going to be sick.

When he opened his eyes it was to see Snape standing on the opposite side of the desk, wand in hand. 'And now, if you are ready for your lesson Mr. Potter?' he enquired softly.

Harry got up and faced him and then all of the horror of his experience of the nerve regeneration potion suddenly hit him. Rather distantly he realised that he was beginning to shake, and remembering his earlier success at Occlumency, Harry tried hard to free himself of emotion. He visualised the beach beside Jane's cottage, the light on the water, the feeling of sand in his toes, the sound of water on shingle and smell of the tidal zone and then . . .

Harry was standing on the beach. He spun around in shock. Over in the west the sun was on its way down the sky but the evening was not yet cold and Harry laughed with pleasure. He had actually apparated. He stood and scratched his head in bemusement and looked around again and that was when he realised that he had no shadow.

'Oh shit,' murmured Harry. Whatever he had done, it clearly wasn't apparition.

Several steps revealed that he was leaving no footprints in the sand. Cautiously he rested his fingers on and then into the wall. Then he climbed over the broken section into the garden. The grass is getting long again, thought Harry, his sense of unease growing stronger and stronger. When he had been very small he had managed to get lost and that was what this felt like. He closed his eyes and thought about the library at Grimmauld Place, but when he opened them the sun was still setting over the quiet garden. He wandered up to the terrace and then through the closed glass doors into the deserted house. He missed Jane.

Miranda thought Harry. Harry's fingers touched the talisman; he closed his eyes and remembered the warmth of her voice. 'Miranda?' There was no reply but even so he felt comforted. Harry sat down on one of the shabby sofas.

After a while he still had not managed to come up with any ideas on how to resolve his predicament. Walking back, he felt, was out. He was hundreds of miles from London and he didn't think remaining like this for too long would be good. He was beginning to feel cold and, with a shock, realised that he was not breathing. Deliberately taking unnecessary breaths he decided to deal with the cold. 'Incendio!' The fire that had been made up in the hearth should have caught but didn't. Harry tried again with no more success and then discovered that he had forgotten to breathe again.

How did I do it? Harry asked himself. How did I clear my mind? He had accepted that he was angry. Now he accepted that he was afraid. The rational part of his mind looked around for some idea of what to do next. If his memories of the cottage had brought his here, could not other powerful memories take him to other places?

Hogwarts! He closed his eyes and imagined himself in the Gryffindor common room; he remembered the oddly echoing feel of the place and the warm and dusty smell of the tapestries until he could believe that he was actually there. Finally he opened his eyes to find the sun slanting through windows onto red and gold. Straight away he was out into the corridor, on his way to Dumbledore's office. As he reached the stairs he realised that he was no longer running but simply moving at a running speed. He moved faster, on and then straight up through the stone of the turning staircase. Harry discovered that the office had been tidied but there was no sign of its owner. Fawkes regarded him solemnly. Portkey thought Harry frantically before his mind finally processed what it had seen.

'Fawkes?' As Harry approached the phoenix, red and golden wings stretched and flashed. 'Fawkes, will you take me to Grimmauld Place?' The bird ducked its head and Harry reached out to touch resplendent feathers.

There was suddenly a burst of flame around him and then he was standing in the hallway of Grimmauld place. Although no longer feeling so painfully cold, Harry wanted to get back into himself. He found his body on the floor of the library with Dumbledore and Snape on the ground beside him, both looking more worried than he had thought possible. He lay down into his body and drew a deep breath.

'Potter!' When Harry opened his eyes it was to discover Snape crouched over him and looking as though he might strangle him.

'Sorry sir. I was at the cottage and then Hogwarts, it took me some time to get back. Fawkes brought me here. He's in the hallway.' Harry tried to get up and managed it with Snape's assistance as Dumbledore opened the door to admit the phoenix which flew in and settled on a chair-back.

Snape lowered Harry into one of the library chairs and then, his hands on the arms of the chair, bent over him. 'Mr. Potter, we are waiting for an explanation.'

Harry glanced into Snape's black eyes and then looked away. 'Right sir.' He was feeling distinctly shaky. 'Do you think I could have a cup of tea?' Snape stood up and Dumbledore put a cup of tea into Harry's hands. Harry sipped it gratefully. The Headmaster then offered a bag of sherbet lemons. Harry took one, crunched and swallowed it. Dumbledore gave him another that he sucked between sips of tea. After a while Harry looked up to discover Dumbledore and Snape were now sitting opposite him looking very thoughtful, Dumbledore at such an angle that he was watching Snape rather than Harry.

'Harry, what happened?' asked the Headmaster.

Still sipping his tea, Harry told them.

'You called this "Astral Projection". Where did you come across the term?' asked Snape.

'In a muggle book. I'm sorry; I don't know the proper name for it. I haven't come across yet it at school.'

'Nor have I,' said Dumbledore, apparently amused. 'What you did is unheard of.'

'If wizards want to go somewhere they apparate,' said Snape dryly. 'They do not wander around the countryside in quite so much less than their underwear.'

'You see, Severus, murmured Dumbledore. This is certainly a "power the Dark Lord knows not."

'Or just coincidence," put in Harry.

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged looks. Harry concentrated on his tea.

'A few days ago you spoke to Mr. Malfoy,' murmured Snape.

'Yes'

'And you lent him two hundred galleons without so much as asking him what he needed the money for.'

'If I had asked he might not have taken it.' Snape's cool regard did not falter. 'He must have been desperate if he was prepared to sell his Firebolt, let alone for so much less than it was worth.'

'Guilt, Mr, Potter?'

'A bit, but mostly it's just that I really don't need any more enemies. I thought that if I could just get him to stay out of it . . . I told him about what I'd seen through my link with . . . him. About Bellatrix grovelling for mercy on the ground in front of him. I lent Malfoy the money because I hoped that he'd listen to me and actually think about what I'd said.'

More silence followed.

'Look, sir. Hermione called it a "self fulfilling prophecy". It doesn't really matter what I think as long as Vol . . . as long as he believes in it. I don't have to be very special to die. I don't -' Harry glanced at Dumbledore who still looking away but very obviously paying attention. 'I don't know if I can stop him. All I can do is try.' Harry rubbed at the scar on his forehead, 'But I have to do it in such a way that, if I fail, my death is really not all that important. And I'm really not at all sure how to begin, although I'm pretty sure I shouldn't have gone on Fudge's photo-opportunity.' Harry discovered that he was now rubbing at the "I must not tell lies" cut into his hand by Umbridge's quill and put his hand back around his cup. 'And perhaps I shouldn't have fought back against the Magical Law Enforcement Officers,' he admitted. 'It's just that, right now, the Ministry scares me.'

Yet again there was silence. Dumbledore continued to sit watching Snape who sat watching Harry with his chin resting upon his curled fingers. 'Whom have you told about the Prophecy?' Snape asked eventually.

'Ron, Hermione and Ginny. It's not going any further.'

'And how did they react?

'Ginny was horrified.' Harry gave a brief snort of laughter. 'Ron and Hermione seemed to think I might have a chance.'

Snape was now tracing his mouth with his finger in a gesture that Harry remembered from his previous attempts to teach Harry Occlumency. 'You should perhaps be wary of Mr. Malfoy, even if he does respond in a positive manner to your overture Mr. Potter.'

'I'm not completely stupid Professor.' Dumbledore raised one hand from the arm of his chair, warning Snape not to respond to Harry's impertinence.

'Perhaps not,' said Snape. 'Mr. Malfoy, however, is Slytherin.'

Harry was unable to resist. 'So am I.' He instantly regretted the outburst as Snape froze. 'That is, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin but I'd met Malfoy and I'd met Ron. And I preferred Ron.' When, thought Harry, will I learn to keep my big mouth shut?

Snape looked at Dumbledore for confirmation. 'I'm afraid so, Severus.'

In an effort to change the subject Harry asked 'How's Jane?' deciding almost immediately that this was an even bigger mistake.

'Not happy.' Snape seemed angry but he continued calmly enough. 'Hogwarts has always been a refuge in times of trouble and, it being known that the Dark Lord has returned, there have been a number of late acceptances of places at the school. She, along with four others will be joining us at the start of term.'

'Oh dear,' said Harry. Although having heard what Kingsley Shacklebolt had to say about someone "owning" Snape, he wasn't entirely surprised that Dumbledore would want her where he could keep an eye on her. Or that Snape would accept this. She probably would be safer at Hogwarts and she would be able to study magic rather than mathematics. It was just unfortunate that Jane hated school.

'Indeed. I trust that I do not have to warn you to stay away from her?'

Friendship with him, Harry realised, would only make her a target 'No, sir,' he replied rather sadly. 'I'll treat her just the same as any other student. Although if she's sorted into Gryffindor . . .'

'I think that entirely unlikely,' said Snape. 'Now, if you will excuse me Headmaster, I have a potion that will soon be requiring attention.' Snape got up and left the room and Harry heard the front door slam.

'Try not to tease him, Harry, murmured Dumbledore.

'Well she might be, sir.'

From what I have seen of her, Jane will almost certainly be sorted into Hufflepuff.'

'Hufflepuff, sir?' said Harry in surprise.

'Loyalty, tenacity, integrity and kindness. Rather unfashionable virtues perhaps; but you cannot have forgotten that Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff?'

'But she took on Dudley and then the Dementors. She was even prepared to take on you, sir.'

'Because she felt that she had no choice. Never underestimate "nice" people, Harry.' Dumbledore gave him a brief, twinkling smile. 'Oh, and it might be better not to mention your experience this evening to anyone. Goodnight Harry.' With Fawkes on his shoulder, he turned to follow Snape out.

'Was that Dumbledore?' Hermione came into the library.

'Yes. He just wanted to make sure that I was alright. Dinner ready?'

'Yes. Harry, are you alright?'

'I'm fine,' said Harry.

-------------------------------------------------

Ghostlike, Harry drifted down the stairs. He had awoken to find himself floating above his bed and looked down to find his body, on the bed below him, apparently asleep. Harry had been surprised at how peaceful he looked. Then he decided to use the opportunity to practice moving instantaneously between places, starting with a transition between the hallway of the house on Grimmauld Place and his bedroom. In the hallway he could see light from the kitchen and hear voices. He was moving towards them when the snake Guardian rose from out of the floor.

'Harry Potter.'

'Hello Nero.'

'Have you spoken to Nymphadora Black?'

'Er, yes. No problem about the chess set. Why do you keep calling her "Black" anyway?'

'Thiss iss the Housse of Black. It iss hers only if the name iss herss,' said the Guardian.

'Oh. Well. Goodnight Nero.'

As the snake sank back into the floor, Harry drifted into the kitchen. "Madeye" Moody was speaking. '. . . and really you can't blame them . . .'

'He's sixteen, only a child!' Mrs. Weasley sounded upset. Also sitting around the table were Tonks, Remus Lupin, Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and, very much to Harry's surprise, Percy Weasley

'A child who has managed to stop "he who must not be named" and who hates the Ministry,' said Percy.

'And whose fault is that' demanded Mrs. Weasley, 'when the Minister's own so called "Senior Undersecretary" tortured him?'

'Quite,' said Moody. 'The boy has every reason to hate them. And, child or not, he's dangerous and can only become more so. And of course, because of this, in their usual thoughtful and considerate manner, the Ministry are trying to control him.'

'The question is, how far are they prepared to go?' mused Tonks.

'This is Fudge we're talking about,' said Mr. Weasley.

There was a long silence.

'You don't think they'd . . .' whispered Mrs. Weasley.

'Harry is becoming a very powerful wizard,' said Lupin. 'Worse, he is seen to be someone who could challenge the Ministry. Something infinitely more dangerous than a mere werewolf. I believe that they are quite capable of killing him.' Tonks put a sympathetic hand on Lupin's arm.

'But Harry's not evil!' There were tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes. Mr. Weasley put his arm around his wife's shoulders.

'No, Harry's not evil. We know that, but the Ministry doesn't always behave very rationally,' said Tonks. 'Fudge himself is foolish rather than bad. He allows himself to be persuaded by people he shouldn't. He was very put out when Malfoy was arrested, until he saw the opportunity to gain control of the Malfoy estate. Right now he's listening to Dumbledore, but we have to be aware that that could change.' She looked thoughtful. 'Perhaps the best thing would be to make the Ministry believe that Harry's not important except as a distraction for Voldemort. Percy . . .?'

'I can try,' said Percy. He stood up, as did his parents. 'Mum, dad.' The Weasleys embraced and then left the kitchen together.

'At least that's one less problem,' murmured Remus.

'Not to mention that, once again, we have our "Man in the Ministry",' said Moody, getting to his feet. 'Unbelievable that they'd put Arthur under "Suspension".'

'Shoot the messenger,' said Tonks. 'They can't get at Harry so they have a go at Ron.' Moody shook his head and left.

'Good night Tonks.' Remus followed the others.

'Night.' Finally Tonks stood up. 'Nox!' Harry heard her go out, leaving him floating in the darkness of the kitchen trying to make sense of what he'd heard.