Changes Come

Changes Come

By: YayCoffee

Chapter 4:

Harry and the others caught up with Ron almost a full minute after he had stopped, facing what was left of his brothers' shop. Fred and George were nowhere to be seen. Ron was stoic, hands on his hips, staring expressionless as flames licked the front of the building and whipped like angry ropes into the blackening sky. Dean, trying to comfort Ginny, made to wrap her up in a hug, but she shoved him away, almost violently, as screaming sobs escaped her tiny figure. Hermione went to put her arm around Ron, and he returned the gesture, but made no move to pull her in. He was stock still, transfixed by the scene before him, his shining eyes reflecting the sick green of the Dark Mark and the violent orange of the flames before him.

Harry went to stand by Ron and Hermione, but didn't know what he could possibly say or do. He felt tears sting the backs of his eyes, but he blinked them back stubbornly. He slowly became aware that others had apparated - Mr. Weasley and Bill were holding back a frantic Mrs. Weasley, who was trying her best to break free and rush into the burning shop. Charlie, Lupin, Tonks, and Dumbledore were also there with several other Order members, and Aurors were now dowsing the flames with what looked like very fat wands, thick as three broom handles, that shot water at the building in a magnificent arc.

Flames were replaced by great dancing shadows of smoke and the intense odor of wet charcoal. The Weasleys were all clinging to each other, quiet tears streaking their soot-blackened faces. Harry held Hermione's hand and Dean stood behind them, looking after the grieving family.

As he stood there, his shock was quickly wearing off, and he felt as though he might explode if he stayed there any longer. He slipped away from Hermione and the other people in front of the shop and started walking, not caring where is feet were leading him.

He didn't know how long he'd been walking, but he looked up to find himself in a narrow alley behind a bank of shops, only two units down from the still smoldering building. The dark surrounding him was oppressive; the only light came from the occasional firework that made its way into the alley.

He heard a rattle - something moving behind him. Harry reached for his wand and muttered, "Lumos."

The narrow beam of light served only to deepen the sinister shadows creeping in on him, and he now heard only the rushing beat of his heart pounding away in his ears. The light from Harry's wand stopped on a curious figure in the middle of the path. It took him two or three full beats before he even realized what it could possibly be, but as soon as his brain caught up to his eyes, he quickly ran to the ragged lump.

The bodies of Fred and George Weasley, burned and blackened and huddled together lay in the dark alley. Harry fell to his knees beside them, and not knowing what he was doing, he swept a hand over one of their foreheads. His handprint stood out ghostly white against the soot and grime that had changed the twin's jovial face into something almost unrecognizable. Harry lifted his hand to his face - the twins were covered in black, but it was more than soot and ash. He reached out again, to the other twin's face, and pulled away the muck covering it. Was that. . . mud? He touched their clothes, which were also soaking wet with dark, thick mud. Harry's pounding heart would not allow him to think straight. What was happening?

Just then, Harry heard the most wonderful sound ringing in his ears like Phoenix song. It was a cough. Then another.

"Fred! George!" He was shaking each of them, in turn, by their sopping shoulders, thick mud squishing between his fingers and under his nails.

Suddenly, his thoughts clicked into place. He reached for the talisman.

"Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Arthur and Molly Weasley!"

He didn't know who answered the call first. He was shouting, "Come quickly! I'm behind the shop. I'm sending up sparks." And he pointed his wand up in the air and showered the sky with red sparks that shot through the few remaining Whiz-bangs that lingered in the smoky air.

"Fred! George! Can you hear me?"

Cough. Cough. Cough. They were now stirring, and rolling away from each other onto their sides.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore, and Lupin were beside them quickly. A weeping Mrs. Weasley ran to her sons and hugged them, followed only half a step by her husband.

"Fred! George!"

The twins were coughing, but one of them stopped long enough to wheeze out, "Mum. Dad."

"We need to get them to St. Mungo's. It looks like they've inhaled quite a lot of smoke," Lupin said seriously, looking to Dumbledore.

"I shall call for the Healers," Dumbledore said softly, kneeling down and patting Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and then he sent a message quickly through the talisman.

-***-

St. Mungo's was a busy place. The attack on Diagon Alley had it bursting at the seams with people in need of care, and Harry had already seen far too many people he knew. Dennis Creevy was in a coma due to prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. His brother, Collin, had never looked so grim as he did now, his trademark camera cold and quiet on the seat next to him. Hanna Abbot was there with her uncle. Zacharius Smith had three Ravenclaw friends who were being treated for injuries.

Harry sat in the waiting room with Dean, Hermione, and Lupin while the rest of the Weasleys were in with Fred and George, who were being treated for burns and smoke inhalation. The Healers had assured them that they would be just fine in a couple of days, and for that, Harry was very glad.

A haggard looking young man in rumpled green robes bearing the crossed bone and wand emblem stepped out of the door with Charlie and Bill Weasley. The young Healer pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head slightly before hurrying down the hall and in through another door. Charlie and Bill walked over to where Harry and the others were waiting.

"How are they?" Lupin asked anxiously, getting to his feet and meeting them halfway. Harry, Dean and Hermione were right behind him.

"They're going to be fine," Charlie said.

Bill added, "They inhaled a lot of smoke, so they are taking blood re-oxidation potions now, but they should be able to go back home tomorrow."

Harry let out a gigantic sigh of relief.

Charlie continued, looking at Harry, "If you all would like to come in - they are asking for you."

Harry nodded his head and silently made his way into the twins' room. Lupin followed him, but Hermione and Dean stayed where they were.

"We'll just wait here for now," Hermione said. Bill and Charlie took seats with them.

Harry walked in to the room and blinked; the scene was not what he expected. Fred and George, now free of all mud and soot, were laughing heartily from side-by-side beds.

The room was crowded. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took spots at the twins' bedsides. Ron stood quietly in a corner, and Ginny sat in a chair by the window, where she was looking unseeingly out at the street below. Both she and Ron looked up as Harry and Lupin squeezed themselves in some extra space at the foot of the beds.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, confused. Ron met his eye and shrugged, almost imperceptibly. Ginny gave him a weak smile.

"It's the re-oxidizing potion," explained Mrs. Weasley, laying a hand gently on Fred's knee and patting it gently - the way you might reassure a small child. "It can sometimes make people overly giddy. They should be getting back to normal any time now."

"Hiya Harry! Tssssss-tsss-tss" called George from the other bed, after gulping a great breath of air in a break from his hysterical twittering.

"Hi," Harry said back, "Looks like you two are a lot better than when I last saw you. What happened?"

"Shop got blown up," Fred explained very seriously before breaking into another fit of giggles.

"You don't say," Harry said back, furrowing his brow, hardly knowing how to hold a conversation with them this way.

George drew his face into a deep frown. "Yep. Sure did," he said before he made a wild motion with his hands in front of his face, spreading his fingers out very far apart. "KA-BLOOEY!" And they both started laughing wildly once again.

Lupin turned to Mr. Weasley. "How did they survive that?"

Mr. Weasley opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Fred. "We heard them come in. We were on our way out the back when pfffff-ffffff-pfffff we saw the D- the De-the Death Eatersssss-tssss."

George picked up the story as Fred lost the ability to talk through his laughter, "I saw them come in - right through the front door. We managed to get everyone out the back door really quickly, and we were on our way out when one of them caught Fred with a curse." Suddenly, a look of remembered fear played across his face. The cheerful red spots drained from his cheeks, leaving only a smattering of deep brown freckles on a canvas of parchment-pale skin.

Harry could tell that all giddiness was wiped clean as George relived the memory. Harry thought for a moment that he didn't know what was worse, the thought of loosing both Fred and George in the explosion, or having to see one of them go on without the other. That thought made him feel sick to his stomach, so he quickly tried to think of something else.

"Hurt like a bugger, too," said Fred, grimacing and rubbing a spot on his chest, the smile withdrawing from his face as well.

Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue at his language, but didn't say anything. She reached over and placed a hand, cupped against Fred's cheek, and dabbed at her eyes with the knuckle of her other hand. She let the hand on Fred's face drop down to hold his hand.

George was now speaking blankly, not really looking at anyone as he recounted the rest of the story. "The curse shot him back into the middle of the shop. I tried to hex the bastards, but they got me, too. They bound us both up and dropped a short-fused bomb right in front of us. The ropes disappeared after they left and locked all the doors. We only had a few seconds to try and find our way out. They sealed the doors with some kind of hex. We couldn't get out."

Fred continued, "Yeah. We thought we were just stuck, but George had a brilliant plan. He picked up one of the Portable Swamps, threw it at the back door and activated it. We had only just dived in when the bomb went off. We had to wait a couple of seconds before the hole in the wall was soggy enough for us to get through." He sighed heavily. "The last thing I remembered is pulling up into the alley. Then we were here."

-***-

Harry sat, looking around the table at the tired faces of the Order members who had gathered for the meeting. Lupin went with Harry and Hermione back to Grimmauld Place, leaving the others to finish up at the hospital. Because so many people were still dealing with the after-shock of the attack, the crowd of people was as light as Harry had ever seen it.

The Aurors were not there, The Weasleys were still at the hospital, and many of the familiar faces Harry had grown accustomed to seeing at meetings and around Grimmauld Place were taking care of people who were hurt in the battle. McGonagall, Snape and Lupin were the only people Harry really recognized. Dumbledore was grave as he called the meeting to order.

A balding wizard in dark blue robes spoke, "Albus, why do you think that Voldemort has chosen now to become so public. We didn't have any indication that he was headed toward this sort of display so soon."

An exhausted looking Dumbledore turned his light blue gaze on the man, "Your are correct, Darius. We've known for some time that he has been looking for a means to weaken the wards around the home of Harry's relatives, and we also know that he has been recruiting followers, alas, we did not have any intelligence that would have indicated an attack of this magnitude at this time."

Snape's voice was steely as he addressed the others at the table. "The Dark Lord does not tell me anything of his plans that do not affect what he directly orders me to do for him. He is this way with all of the Death Eaters - none of them are privy to any more information than he deems necessary. I am aware that he has been looking for something - a spell or a book that will help me in my potions analysis, but nothing about attacking Diagon Alley."

A moment of strained silence fell over the table. Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly, and with a sad heaviness in his voice said, "Several Hogwarts students were affected by the attack. I went to St. Mungo's to visit earlier. One of the students - Collin Creevy - gave me his camera. He was taking pictures of Diagon Alley at the time of the attack, and he did manage to get some photographs that could prove helpful."

Dumbledore then tapped his wand in the center of the table, and a stack of wizarding photographs appeared.

"Harry," Dumbledore turned to Harry with a very serious expression. "Please look at these pictures and tell me what, or rather who, you see."

Harry picked up the pictures. He flipped through them hesitantly, not wanting to relive this day so soon. He saw the looks of terror and sickness on the people in the Alley coming up against Death Eaters and Dementors. He didn't know what Dumbledore meant for him to do. All the patrons, the victims, were not people whom Harry knew. He saw Death Eaters, but their robes and masks prevented him from being able to identify any of them. He was halfway through tucking the second to last picture behind the stack when he stopped suddenly.

The picture showed a running loop, which he watched at least twice. A short, pudgy Death Eater was attacking people walking up the white stone front steps to Gringotts. The picture was just as horrible as all the others, but in it's own right unremarkable. However, as the Death Eater raised his wand to attack, Harry could see it - a flash, a sliver gleam at the Death Eater's wand hand. He looked closer, bringing the photo so close to his face, two foggy smudges were appearing as he exhaled through his nose. He watched the photo loop again, and he saw it even more clearly - the proof for which he'd been searching for two years. He would be able to identify this man anywhere. His stomach filled with lead, as he was sure he was going to be sick. He swallowed hard.

"Peter Pettigrew."

He handed the stack of photos back to Dumbledore, who surveyed Harry beneath his half-moon spectacles carefully before he spoke again.

"Harry, I am submitting these photographs to the ministry just after this meeting is adjourned. With luck, this will prove not only that Peter Pettigrew is quite alive, but also his involvement with the Death Eaters, and his involvement in the events that led to Sirius' imprisonment."

The others began discussing things that Harry didn't pay attention to. He could only catch a couple of words at a time before his mind drifted to the idea that Sirius' name could be officially cleared. Shouldn't he feel happier about this? He, instead, felt a deep sadness that all of this couldn't have happened a few months ago . . .before. Sirius would have been able to live as a free man, not as a grounded child, being punished for something he didn't do.

He looked up at the empty spot at the table that used to be Sirius', and he remembered a night just over a year ago, when Sirius tried to tell him what was going on. He'd been there for Harry at every turn, risking his life, his freedom, to help Harry any time he needed it, and the only thing he ever got in return was a life cooped up in a house that reminded him of a childhood and family he hated. Harry began to feel suffocated by anger and the unfairness of it all. He felt himself ball his hands into fists at his knees under the table, as his breath caught in short huffs at his nose.

Damn Voldemort for ruining everything, Harry thought, Damn him and his stupid Death Eaters. Damn Pettigrew. Damn Bellatrix Lestrange. Damn everything! Harry exhaled deeply before he looked up and remembered that he was not alone in the kitchen. All of the Order members had left, save Lupin and Snape, who were discussing something at the other end of the table.

"Potter," Snape said shortly, turning his hook-nosed face Harry's direction. "I shall be here tomorrow afternoon for Occlumency training. Do not keep me waiting." He did not wait for a response before, with a flourish of his cloak, he swept out of the kitchen.

Lupin crossed the room to where Harry was still fuming. He sat down lightly, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We'll get him this time," he said.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, fat lot of good it does now, though." He reached up and pulled his hands through the messy strands of his hair several times before he rested his elbows on the table, hands still gripping his hair at the spot above his ears.

"I know what you mean." Lupin had found a Butterbeer cap and was idly spinning it around the wooden tabletop, where it would go around once or twice before it stopped with a dull metallic thud. "I keep thinking about how different things could have been if we'd found Wormtail months ago." He let out a long breath and shook his head. "But, it didn't happen that way. It happened the way it did, and now, I suppose all we can do is hope for as much justice as we can get."

Harry looked up at Lupin, dropping his hands down to rest on the table. Lupin's kind, gold-brown eyes were distant and sad looking, as though his mind were quite far away. Even softer still, he said, "There's just never enough time, is there?" The lines around his eyes were drawn close together, and Harry saw that his expression was not so very far away now as it had been a moment ago.

"No," Harry said, looking down at the table, "There's not."

-***-

The Weasleys, minus Fred and George, returned from the hospital the next morning, but they would only be staying for a short while. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided that they should all go back to the Burrow for the last week of holiday, so Fred and George could get well in a familiar place. They'd invited Harry and Hermione to go with them, but Harry opted to stay at Grimmauld place with Lupin, and Hermione decided to stay with him. She said it was to give the Weasleys some time together as a family, but Harry got the feeling that she didn't want to leave him by himself.

Harry, trying to avoid the chaos that always came when the Weasleys tried to pack and organize for a trip, made to hide out in his room for a while. Maybe he'd finish up the last of his summer reading. He opened the door to find Ron and Hermione, well, snogging. . . exuberantly.

Having shut the door as quickly and as quietly as he could manage, he let out a gigantic sigh of relief as he stood outside in the corridor. They hadn't noticed him, it seemed, but Harry could feel his face burn in embarrassment.

"What? Did you just dance naked in front of the entire Wizengamot?"

"Huh?" Harry looked up to see Ginny, smiling up at him, brown eyes shining.

"No?" She said, tapping her chin, "Then...it must be that you've just heard Snape confess his undying love to Gilderoy Lockhart."

"What are you talking about? And . . .gross."

"Harry, I haven't seen you this red-faced and uncomfortable looking since I sent you that singing Valentine in my first year. Sorry about that, by the way."

"No problem. It's just . . .I went in to get my books . . .I didn't mean to . . .I mean . . .Ron and Hermione . . ."

Ginny cut him off with an excited gasp as she brought her fingertips to cover her mouth, "Oooooooh. Are they in there?" She pointed to the shut door and dropped her voice down to a whisper. "Let's open the door a crack and throw things at them . . .see how long it takes them to notice."

She had the same look on her face that Fred and George did before they got up to something they really shouldn't. "Oh! Hermione's got her hair down today, I bet we could get, like, half a sheet of parchment stuck in there in little wads."

Without another word, she pattered down the corridor in her socked feet to hers and Hermione's room. Having nothing better to do, Harry shrugged to himself and followed her.

The door was halfway open already, and Harry caught a glimpse of what seemed to be the aftermath of a violent hurricane, or earthquake, or some other equally devastating natural disaster. He could feel Aunt Petunia's conniption fit from here. Ginny's things had even crossed the invisible, yet implicitly understood, line that separated her side from Hermione's. Clothes covered almost every available surface, and they were piled up to knee height. The only way Harry could walk in the room was to follow the eight-inch wide path forged down the middle.

Ginny was heaving a huge pile of winter jumpers from one side of the bed to the other. "I know I left my parchment somewhere . . ." she muttered to herself. She then decided to look in a different spot, closer to the desk, where she stopped shortly, sucking in a great breath of air through clenched teeth, and hissed "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" and picked up her foot to rub at a sore spot on her toe, where she had obviously stubbed it on something.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, bending down to pick up the offending object, her potions book.

"Hm, this book actually is bad for your health. Who knew?" He set the book down on top of the pile at the foot of the bed.

She dropped her foot and smiled at him. "Ha ha, very funny."

"Really, I didn't know anyone could be a messier packer than Ron. I'm impressed."

"Yes, well . . ." Her voice trailed off as she looked around the room and sighed. "I can't believe we're leaving this place. I am looking forward to spending a couple of nights in my own room, though."

"I bet. I guess it'll be good to get away from here. It's good that Fred and George are all right."

Her face went dark. "Yeah, that was really scary. I don't know what I'd have done if . . ." She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

Harry walked over and put a hand on her arm.

She looked up at him, unshed tears making her eyes glitter as though covered by delicate crystal, "Harry, I don't know how you've done this. Losing Sirius, I mean. I kept thinking about that while we were waiting at the hospital. I don't think I'm strong enough to deal with that." She then placed her hand lightly over Harry's that was rested on her arm.

Harry said, "Well, it's not been easy, but it's getting easier. Your family . . .this family . . .and Hermione and Lupin. I wasn't sure when I got here if it was such a good idea. There's just so much here that reminds me of Sirius, and how things could have been - how they were supposed to be. I even thought, at first, it would be better to go back and stay with the Dursleys than have to walk down another corridor and into another room where Sirius' missing presence was just this big gaping hole. All of you made me feel like even though I lost Sirius, I still had a family." His voice broke a bit as he added, "I just don't know what I can possibly say that would really express how much all of you have meant to me."

Ginny released his hand after giving it a small squeeze. Harry could feel the spot where it had been, on top of his . . .like after having touched silk or velvet or some other rich fabric, the feeling of it stayed with him. He unconsciously brought his other hand to it, as if to make sure hers wasn't still there. She had resumed looking under piles of things.

"Ah ha! Found it!" she said triumphantly holding up a crisp sheet of parchment, and with a loud rip, she handed half the sheet to Harry before making tiny little wads from the half that she held.

-***-

The Weasleys had gathered in the Drawing room to bid Harry, Hermione, and Lupin good-bye. For several minutes they were all a jumble of chatter and handshakes and cheek-kisses. Ron slapped Harry on the back. "See you in a week, mate."

Harry smiled back at him, "Have fun at the Burrow. Say hi to the ghoul for me."

Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a tight hug before releasing him and holding him by the shoulders at arms length. "Are you sure you and Hermione don't want to come home with us?"

"I really think I should stay with Lupin. Thanks, though. Tell Fred and George I said to get well soon."

"I will, Harry." She pulled him into another hug. "Oh! Do take care of yourself." She released him and dabbed at her eyes with a light blue hankie she'd pulled from the pocket of her jumper. "I'll see you at King's Cross next week. Owl or Floo or use the talisman if you need anything at all."

"I will, Mrs. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley shook Harry's hand and reinforced his wife's sentiments.

Ginny came over to say good-bye, and for some reason, the short moment before she hugged him was an awkward one. Harry felt that he didn't know quite what to do with himself. He was all of a sudden very aware of his arms, and the fact that there really was no good place to keep them.

She pulled him close enough that he could smell sweet lavender and the warm vanilla smell of a comfortable room. He inhaled deeply and hugged her tightly. Letting her go, he said, "So, erm, see you next week, then." Harry realized the next week, without Ginny there, would seem like a very long one, indeed.

"All right, everyone," Mr. Weasley said loudly over the faint din of everyone chattering farewells to one another, "The portkey will activate in one minute." He held out a rather old, tatty copy of Teen Witch Weekly. Ron kissed Hermione one last time and said something into her ear that made her cheeks turn slightly pink before he joined his parents and sister.

Harry watched with Hermione and Lupin as they all faded from sight. For a long moment, they stared blankly at the spot where the Weasleys had been only moments before.

"How about lunch?" Lupin said, clapping his hands together, and he started out of the room.

As they finished their sandwiches, Harry said, "Well, I think we should do something tonight. You know, catch a film or go out to dinner or something. I think it'd be good to get out for a while."

Lupin cleared his throat. "That sounds lovely, but I can't tonight. I don't think many restaurants or theaters look to kindly on their patrons turning into large, hairy, howling creatures of the night. No. I think it's best if I stay in tonight." He paused for a couple of seconds. "But you two should go. I think Tonks is free tonight. She'd probably love to go with you."

Harry could have kicked himself. "That's right. It's full moon. I totally forgot."

"Really, Harry, you should go. Snape is going to bring me my potion when he comes for your lesson, so I'll be just fine up in my room."

Harry didn't want to leave him all by himself on the first full moon they'd be spending together, but he didn't want to make Lupin feel uncomfortable, either. So, he said, "Well, maybe."

Later, as they cleaned up the lunch dishes, Harry and Hermione talked about the upcoming school year. As she wiped down the table, Hermione went off on an impressive diatribe about her extra summer research project for Professor McGonagall. Something about using Charms, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration in tandem to create variants on spells to make them more in tune to the individual caster or intended recipient. At least, that's what Harry could understand.

"Fascinating, really," Hermione said breathlessly, pausing for only a moment before placing the dishrag on the side of the sink and continuing on. "I've done a lot of reading this summer. I have a lot I'd like to share with the DA. You know, I think I've found a way to make the Impedimenta and Stupefy charm stronger so that the effects can last longer and take a different kind of focus to reverse. It would buy you more time during a duel. Of course, I'll have to go through a few more trials and calculations to work it out, but I can't wait to show Professor McGonagall."

"That sounds great, Hermione." Harry was amazed. He knew Hermione was clever. Brilliant, actually. But, he never really thought about how study and knowledge could actually change spells. Spells were just there. They were just what they were. Listening to her, Harry wished he had even a fraction of her stamina and concentration to focus on studies. He was also very glad that she was on their side.

"Harry Potter."

The wholly unpleasant sound of Professor Snape's voice was loud and intrusive in his mind, cutting through his chat with Hermione.

"Professor."

"Potter. I shall be at Headquarters in five minutes. I expect you to be waiting for me in the drawing room."

He did not say good-bye. Harry felt what must have been the mental equivalent of having the telephone hung up abruptly in one's ear.

Grimacing, Harry walked with Hermione out of the kitchen. He watched as she made her way up the stairs as he walked toward the drawing room.

-***-

Harry picked himself up off the floor for the third time. He had been practicing, but for some reason, today, he found the task of keeping Snape out of his mind especially difficult.

"Potter," Snape snarled, "Do tell me why you are incapable of mastering even the simplest of tasks. A mentally challenged troll would have an easier time at this than you seem to have done."

Harry's glasses kept sliding down his sweaty nose. He awkwardly pushed them back up as he tried to steel up his resolve to not allow Snape to get into his thoughts even one more time. He was so frustrated. Why couldn't he seem to be able to do this today?

Snape had taken his wand at the start of the lesson. Harry could see it lying on a small, three-legged cherry wood table on the other side of the room. He wanted nothing more than to go over and get it. He could block the spell . . . and maybe turn Snape into a great croaking toad . . .and then kick him. Harry tried to stifle a smile at this beautiful mental image.

"Failure amuses you, Potter? That explains a lot." Snape's customarily thin temper was wearing to positively threadbare.

Harry was quickly brought back to the present. He looked up to his Potions Professor. "No, sir."

"Legilimens!"

Harry almost rolled his eyes at his inability to squelch the flood of memories that Snape was bringing to the surface. Dudley took a piece of cake away from his plate just as he was about to sink his own fork into it . . .the bodies of Fred and George Weasley smoldered in the alley behind their demolished shop . . .Lupin sat down next to him on the park bench . . .Professor McGonagall went down in a shower of red spell light . . .Ginny Weasley put her hand on top of his . . .

Harry began to panic. He could see nothing but the images flashing before his eyes. In desperate defense, Harry brought up his right hand in the same swirling motion that was required for the Obmolio shield. "Stop! Stop it!" He yelled, whether in his mind or out loud, he had no idea. Suddenly, Ginny's large, shining brown eyes were replaced by Snape's glassy black ones, narrowed in concentration. Harry kept his hand up and looked very intently at Snape, willing the spell backwards. Ginny's face had faded entirely.

Then, with almost the same, sudden, unnerving pitch as traveling by portkey, Harry found himself looking at a small, blond haired boy in Ravenclaw robes, begging for another chance at his Potions exam . . .He saw a group of teenage Slytherins in out-dated hairstyles down the table from where he sat in the Great Hall and wished he could hear what they were talking about . . .he saw dozens of other Death Eaters around a bonfire. A Unicorn, its gleaming white body intricately painted with black runic markings and bound firmly at the hooves, was being placed over the flames . . .

No. No. No! Harry thought. I don't want to see any of this either. Hand still in the air, Harry concentrated once again on finding Snape's face. Slowly, the image of his professor began to materialize, and he looked once again at Snape's glinting eyes. Focus, Potter, he heard firmly somewhere in the back of his mind. It was not his thought. He looked further into Snape's eyes. They were like a new asphalt road on the hottest day of the summer, flat and shining all at the same time. Harry watched as Snape's irises went from black to green, color radiating out from the pupils. He widened his focus. Harry expected to see Snape's determined face staring back at him. He instead, saw himself.

It was similar, yet totally unlike looking in a mirror. What he was seeing was in no way flat or limited in the way that an image in a mirror is. He saw himself, gangly and awkward, hair sticking up everywhere except where it stuck to his neck and forehead, plastered down by sweat. He could see beyond his body to the other side of the room - the area that was behind him. His hand was still up in the air, much like a traffic cop stopping a line of cars. There were dark rings at the collar and under the arms of his tee shirt. He looked, he thought, despite his almost frail stature, scary. He could almost see the magic undulating beneath his skin.

"What's happening?" He saw his lips form the words as he said them as he cast his eyes around the room.

And as suddenly as it all happened, it went away. He felt a sharp jolt, and he was no longer looking at himself, but at Snape. The force of whatever it was slammed back into his body, making his head spin and his knees give out. He sat down hard on the faded rug underneath him with a quiet, umph.

Harry watched the long, thin shadow creep over his body where he was still sitting on the drawing room rug. Snape was standing over him, and for a moment, Harry half expected him to offer a hand to help him up. He didn't. Snape scrutinized him with narrowed eyes and an implacable look on his face.

Harry looped his arms around his knees and stared down at a spot on the floor. His head was still spinning, and it was easier to focus on that spot than to try and look at either Snape or the room around him.

"Did you intend to do any of that, Potter?" Snape asked, his usual air of contempt almost completely replaced by intrigue.

"No."

He got unsteadily to his feet, and tried to ready himself once again for Snape to attack.

"That was extraordinarily advanced Legilimency you just performed. Are you telling me that you have never done anything like that before?"

"No, sir. I have no idea what just happened." He was still willing the room to stop spinning.

"Potter, you have somehow managed to delve so deep into my mind that you were able to see from my perspective. Essentially, you saw from my eyes, and I from yours." As he explained it, Snape's voice lost all scorn, and he simply sounded amazed.

"Have you ever done that before, sir?" The room had mostly stopped spinning now, and the memory of what had just happened, what he'd just seen, made Harry want to know more.

"No, I haven't. I have read about this effect, but it takes not only fortitude, but also a good amount of raw power to produce. What did you do differently this time?"

Harry tried to think. What had he done? "Well, I tried blocking you. I didn't have my wand, but I tried it anyway. Lupin's taught me the Obmolio shield." Suddenly he remembered the last time he broke into Snape's mind. "I remember last year, the one time I was able to really stop you was when I used the Protego shield during one of our sessions."

Snape scowled at the memory. "Yes, I remember."

"I didn't really think about it. My hand just went up, and it happened. Can we try it again?"

Snape did not reply with words. He nodded curtly, took two purposeful steps away, turned back around and held out his wand.

"Legilimens!"

Again, Harry felt Snape's spell enter his mind, but this time he was ready.

"Obmolio!"

Harry brought up his hand, just as he'd done it the time before. He felt the power of Snape's spell move backwards, and then he felt it penetrate the Potion's professor. He held his hand steady and concentrated as hard as he could on seeing.

Wham!

The force of the spell coming back to his body knocked Harry once again to the floor. He felt more exhausted this time than last, and he didn't even fully break into Snape's mind this time. He sat, panting and trying to make the room be still. More slowly than last time, his breathing and heartbeat steadied, and he looked to Snape.

"Again. Let's go again," he said, putting his hands on his knees, as he tried once again to get to his feet. His hands slipped and he lost his leverage and fell back down. He was finally standing once more after his second try at getting up.

"No, Potter. I think we've done all we can do in one day. Not that your oversized ego doesn't need some deflating, but I don't think we shall make any progress while you are this fatigued."

He turned quickly on his heel and walked out of the room. Harry growled in frustration. He felt like he was giving up too early. He thought about calling Snape back, to continue practicing, but he knew that Snape would never go for that. So, Harry quickly retrieved his wand, and then ran upstairs to tell Hermione everything about what had just happened.

-***-

Hermione decided she simply must start researching this Legilimency effect straight away. She thought she'd remembered a couple of titles having to do with mind magic in the library, so they gathered some parchment and a couple of quills before making their way.

"Should we tell Harry?"

"I don't see why we should bother Potter with it now. This is the kind of information that will only lead him to do something foolish."

At the sound of his name, Harry and Hermione stopped as Snape and Lupin's voices seeped from the small crack in the door. They crouched together, next to the wall. Harry made to pull the door open just a little wider so he could hear the conversation better, when Hermione stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. She shook her head and mouthed, "They'll hear you."

He pointed his wand toward his room.

"Accio Extendable Ears!"

He said the spell at a volume barely louder than a whisper. In seconds, two pieces of long, flesh-colored bits of string flew into his hands. He handed one to Hermione. They quickly put one end in their ears and snaked the others around the crack in the door.

Through the small opening, Harry could see Lupin, casually sitting on the edge of the desk in the study, while Snape stood very straight, arms crossed over his chest. They had obviously been deep in conversation.

Lupin said, "Albus wanted us to be more up front with him from now on. I think it would be best to tell him, don't you?"

Snape paced away, and Harry could no longer see him, but his voice answered, "Lupin, you and the others act as though Potter is capable of handling information as an adult. He is not an adult; he is an impertinent child, and he jumps to conclusions. He is far to impatient to be able to handle this kind of information appropriately."

"You're wrong, Severus. You have never given Harry enough credit. I know you and James never got on, but Harry is not James. Harry needs this information. He needs to know what he might be up against. I don't feel right about keeping this from him. Lives are at risk."

Lupin's voice had risen so much with his last statement that both Harry and Hermione winced at the volume through the Extendable Ears.

"I know that," Snape's voice was a harsh, quiet hiss, and it uncharacteristically held a little anxiety. "Even I don't yet have all of the information. I need more time. I can stall them. Potter doesn't need to know this until we know more. At least he is not at his relatives'- he is here. I don't believe he is in immediate danger at the present time."

"I disagree. Harry is in danger. If you don't tell him, I will. Tomorrow. After I change back."

"Speaking of, here is your potion." Snape walked back into view, holding out a goblet, thick steam curling prettily into the air above it. Lupin took it from him.

"Thank you."

Snape resumed his original spot, standing by the desk, arms crossed at the chest. Lupin pulled a face as he drank the potion. "You really can't make this taste any better?" Lupin said through a gag as he panted heavily at the taste of the potion.

"No."

"Right, then. Cheers," he said as he tipped the glass back and swallowed the rest of its contents.

"I'll be back tomorrow to give you your next dose."

"Thank you, Seve-"

Lupin cut off his statement as Snape once again was hidden by the rest of the door. Harry heard him hiss in pain, and the ungraceful series of thumping footsteps made it sound as though he had stumbled.

Harry needed to see what was happening. Despite Hermione's warning, he did push the door open a little wider. Now he could see that Snape was leaning heavily against a small side table on the other side of the room, his right hand clutching at his left forearm.

"Are you all right?" Lupin said, walking over to where Snape was trying to regain composure.

"The Dark Lord, he's -" He was cut off as a low, guttural cry of pain escaped his lips. His body curled in on itself, and the hand holding his Marked forearm clutched even tighter.

Harry winced in sympathy, or was it that his own scar began to prickle, more than uncomfortably.

"He's calling," Snape said through clenched teeth. His breath was purposely slow and deep, as he was obviously trying to get through the pain. His teeth were still clenched, and it seemed to take great effort for him to get out any words at all. "I must go. I shall find out more information tonight."

Harry watched as Snape pulled the Order talisman from the collar of his robes. "Albus Dumbledore. Yes, Headmaster . . . He is calling . . . Presently . . . I shall be talisman silent while I am with the others. Do not expect me to answer back should I be contacted . . .Very well, sir."

Snape dropped the talisman briefly before picking it up again. He pointed his wand to the round charm that Harry knew held the perfect image of a Phoenix embossed on both sides. The talisman glowed a bright orange red, elongating and throbbing for a couple brief seconds before it was completely settled into the image of a slithering snake. He fitted it back inside his robes and turned toward Lupin once again. "If you must tell Potter, then do so, but know that it is against my better judgment for now." He started walking toward the door.

"Good luck, Severus."

Snape paused for only a moment without turning around before he continued on his way out of the room.

Harry and Hermione quickly yanked the Extendable Ears out from the crack in the door and ran down the hall to the library.

-***-

Deep red evening light was pouring in through the small windows at the top of the walls in the kitchen, making Harry's pumpkin juice look like fruit punch, and the sound of forks scraping against plates only seemed to exaggerate the discomfort he felt as he, Hermione, and Lupin ate dinner that evening.

Hermione had convinced him not to confront Lupin about what they'd overheard in the study. He didn't like that there was information being withheld from him, but Hermione was right. Lupin had said he would tell him tomorrow, and that would just have to do. He could wait until then.

"Well, I'm certainly glad Molly left us some food. I'd hate to have to subject you two to my horrible cooking. I think Hagrid and I graduated from the same class at the culinary academy. Difference is, I know how bad it is." Lupin chuckled into his pumpkin juice.

He'd been trying to make small talk throughout the meal, but Harry and Hermione found that they could only respond with one or two word phrases.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking up from his plate. Hermione only managed a weak smile.

Lupin set his fork down and looked pointedly to Harry and then to Hermione. "O.K. you two. What's going on? I haven't been able to get more than a couple of words out of you all evening."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a wary look

Lupin continued, looking nervous, "Is this about the change? I know the last time you were with me when it happened was a little intense, but rest assured--Severus did give me my potion this time."

Harry spoke immediately. "No! No--It's nothing like that. It's just been a really weird day." He thought for a moment about how he should proceed. Maybe he should tell Lupin what he overheard. He cleared his throat, stalling for time. "Did Snape tell you what happened during our Occlumency session this afternoon?"

"No. He didn't. Why? Did something happen? Is everything all right? You didn't get hurt, did you?" Lupin was halfway standing, getting up out of his chair.

Harry gave a small, reassuring smile, "No. I'm fine. It was just odd, is all." Lupin sat down again, looking relieved. Harry told him everything about his session with Snape, from having a hard time at the beginning, to seeing through his perspective, to trying and failing to do it again.

"Hmm. That is interesting. I do remember reading something about it. I started researching Occlumency when you started studying it, but I haven't read all that much about Legilimency, I'm afraid."

Hermione said, "Well, we did find a few books about it in the library upstairs. I'm going to start really looking into it tomorrow. What I've seen so far is utterly fascinating. Jenkins' theory on Mental Apparation seems-"

A flash of white-hot pain shot through Harry's scar. He pressed his palm to it hard, trying to soothe the ache away, quickly sucking air in through clenched teeth. He'd shut his eyes as the room became entirely too bright to be acceptable. He put his other hand under his glasses, trying to make the light seeping in through his eyelids just go away. He rested his elbows on the edge of the table, and he concentrated on keeping the dinner he just ate inside his stomach.

Before he knew it, Lupin was standing over him, pressing a cool cloth between his hand and his forehead. Lupin took the seat next to him and placed a supportive hand behind Harry's neck. He felt Hermione run large, soothing circles over his back as she sat down on the other side.

"Thanks," Harry said thickly. The pain was receding, and he dared to try and open his eyes a little.

"Harry?" Lupin's face was full of concern. Harry knew the questions that were coming next. He didn't have any good answers for them. He knew that in a few minutes time, Lupin would not be able to help him, and Harry didn't want to upset him.

Harry found that his voice was still a little fuzzy around the edges as he spoke, but he tried to put on a convincing air of nonchalance. "I don't know. I don't think it's anything to worry about. Stupid scar always acts up after Occlumency, and after what happened today, I really shouldn't be surprised. Sorry to have worried you."

"Don't you worry about me. I only wish I'd be able to do more. I've only got a little time left before moonrise. Are you sure? No visions?"

"No. No visions. It will be fine." Harry tried to look convincing, and he purposely avoided looking at Hermione. He decided to change the subject.

"So, what's it like when you change? You know, with the potion? Will you be like an Animagus who can think and whatnot like a person, or do you literally become a wolf?"

Lupin furrowed his brow and gave the back of Harry's neck a little squeeze before letting go. "A little of both, actually. My wolf form has a bit more animal instinct than an average Animagus, and I still have to really fight the urge to hunt and howl. But I can, for example, understand speech. The potion does make me very tired, so usually I just sleep the night away, curled up on my bed. Severus has done a fantastic job over the past couple of years perfecting the potion. It no longer makes me quite as sick during the days as it did when I was taking it at Hogwarts. I'll be tired, but basically perfectly functional tomorrow morning."

As the pain in his scar backed off even further, Harry thought of some of the things that hadn't occurred to him yet. He cleared his throat and turned to Hermione. "Erm . . .Hermione? Do you think you could give me a minute with Lupin . . .in private?"

Hermione looked surprised for a moment before she said, "Of course."

Harry walked with her to the door of the kitchen. Hermione gave him a stern look and whispered, "Harry, you're not going to tell him about what we heard are you? I thought we decided to wait until tomorrow to-"

Harry cut her off with a smile and said, "No. I just need to talk to him about, er, werewolf things."

She raised her eyebrows at him, but nodded her head in compliance and trotted down the corridor toward the stairs.

He said, "I'll meet you in the library later on."

Harry sat back down at the table and looked to Lupin, "Er . . .So, when you . . .change . . .I mean . . .what do you usually do about your clothes? Do you want to be by yourself? It's just . . .I know that Sirius used to stay with you."

Lupin smiled kindly at him. "Merlin, I hadn't even thought about it, to tell you the truth." He cleared his throat. "Usually, I just take my clothes off up in my room and wait for the change." He chuckled to himself as Harry saw him quickly flick his eyes up to the ceiling, like he was remembering something pleasant. "I've ruined more sets of robes than I can count by trying to be modest."

Lupin shifted his eyes toward the small windows. The light coming through was now a dim pink, and Harry could see that the sun was setting fast.

Nodding, Lupin continued, "In fact, I need to start heading that way now. I'd like the company, actually, for a little while, anyway. I wasn't kidding before, when I said the potion makes me sleepy. You'd be pretty bored watching me sleep all night."

Harry followed Lupin up the stairs and passed the floor with the rooms that He and Hermione used. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Lupin kept their rooms on the floor above - most likely to avoid the stomping around of teenagers during all hours of the night.

Harry found himself for the first time in Lupin's room. It was rather large, and reminded Harry a lot of the Gryffindor common room. A large four-poster bed sat elegantly against the wall opposite of the entrance, but off to the left, there was a nice sitting area with what looked like two of the most comfortable chairs Harry had ever seen. A fire crackled merrily from a good-sized fireplace.

"Nice," Harry said to Lupin as he took it all in.

"Thanks. I've been living here for the better part of two years now, and I'm afraid that I've grown rather attached to it." Lupin walked through a door to the right, which Harry assumed to be a bathroom.

Harry took that moment to look at the bookshelves that were full to bursting. Most of the books were old, leather-bound volumes having to do with magic and magical theory that wouldn't look at all out of place in the Hogwarts library. There were also quite a few Muggle books that seemed to be about philosophy and even several novels. Harry was surprised to see many of the novels were newer, some even in paperback, by authors he recognized. He noticed Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby; he'd read in the paper at the Dursleys that there would be a film coming out about it next year. He was reading the back jacket when Lupin came back into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Can I borrow this?" Harry asked, holding up the book.

"Of course. He's got an interesting style, but I got a little lost reading it, I'm afraid. I don't know that much about football."

Harry looked around for a moment, feeling a bit awkward, but he just sat in one of the chairs. Lupin sat down in the other. They talked for a few minutes about the differences between football and Quidditch. Lupin was in the middle of describing an exciting match he'd seen a couple of years ago when he paused and took in a deep breath.

"I think I'll have to finish telling you about it tomorrow."

"So, it's happening now?"

Lupin just nodded his head. He had started sweating, and his breathing had grown rapid.

"Can I do anything?" Harry asked, not exactly sure what he should do.

"No," Lupin choked out, "All we can do is wai-"

Lupin had now doubled over in his chair. Harry quickly got up to go stand by him. Lupin held out a hand, keeping Harry at a distance. Harry paused for a moment, watching his friend in obvious pain. A strangled groan came from deep within Lupin's throat, and Harry watched, amazed, as the hair on his arms began to thicken through shiny beads of sweat, glowing silver in the blue moonlight now streaming through the window.

Lupin cried out again, and Harry heard the unsettling sounds of bones cracking coming from Lupin's hands and feet. Harry heard dull pats of blood falling to the rug from Lupin's hands where his fingernails were yellowing and elongating, forming into sharp claws. Lupin's towel dropped as he fell to the ground on his hands and knees, whimpering and convulsing.

The bone-popping sounds were now issuing from his arms, legs, and much to Harry's horror, his head. Lupin's legs shortened and bent inward, changing from those of a human to some sickly cross between man and dog, his head elongated and shoulders rounded over. Thick gray fur had now covered all of his body, and Harry heard a low, wolfish growl come from Lupin's throat as his face changed completely from that of the man he knew to an animal he'd only seen once before. Lupin was now totally transformed into the form of a very large wolf. Lupin growled again.

"Lupin? Professor?"

Another growl.

The werewolf collapsed to the ground.

"Lupin? Re-Remus?"

Harry took three long strides and stood directly in front of Lupin. He tentatively held out a shaky hand. This might be one of the stupidest things I've ever done, he thought as he rested his hand on top of Lupin's head, between his ears.

"Remus, are you okay?" Harry stroked Lupin's head.

Lupin opened his eyes, still the same gold-brown that Harry knew and trusted. He looked to Harry and made a quiet whimpering noise before standing up shakily. He stretched himself, pushing his front paws far in front of him, ducking his head and sticking his hindquarters in the air. Lupin yawned with a high-pitched squeak before coming out of the stretch and shaking his body vigorously. He sniffed absently at the spots of blood on the carpet before sighing quickly, jumping back up on his chair, and curling up.

Harry took out his wand and pointed to the carpet.

Evanesco!

The spots of blood disappeared. Lupin looked at Harry and dropped his head a bit. Harry guessed he was trying to say thanks, but he couldn't be sure. It would take a while before Harry could understand Lupin's wolf body language. Harry decided then and there that if it were up to him, he wouldn't let Lupin be alone for the change ever again. It seemed as though it could give Cruciatus a run for its money.

Harry opened up the Hornby book and began to read. Lupin was asleep within a half hour. Harry patted him on the head once again, reminding himself that this sleeping animal was actually a full grown man who might not want to be petted--he'd have to ask Lupin about that tomorrow. Harry quietly left the room and shut the door on his way out.

-***-

Hermione was pouring over a very large book when Harry found his way to the library. She reached her hands high in the air, stretching deeply before bringing them down to give Crookshanks' ears a scratch.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Fine, I suppose. It seemed really painful, but he's sleeping now. Found anything good?"

She sighed. "There's a lot here. I just don't know how relevant it is. There is a lot of theory and speculation and not much in the way of actually giving any real information. But, I'm only just at the beginning."

She reached across the table and grabbed another book, the movement unsettling Crookshanks enough that he hopped down from her lap before leaping back up onto the table, settling down almost directly on top of the parchment Hermione was using to take notes. She gently shifted it out of his way before passing the book to Harry.

"Here," she said, "This one is a bit newer. Why don't you see what you can find in here."

"Right," Harry said with a sigh, and opened to the first chapter.

After he'd read all of six pages, he found that he was looking at entire paragraphs without actually taking anything in. He was on his fourth try of the one he was currently reading when he felt his scar ache again.

"What?" Hermione had looked up from her book. Harry noticed that he'd not only dropped his book, but his fingers were rubbing at his forehead.

"Nothing. Scar twinges a bit, but it'll be fine." He picked up his book again and began to read.

Harry had made it through almost to the end of the first chapter when it happened again. This time, the pain was much more like that of earlier this evening, at dinner. He'd backed his chair away from the table and bent over so that his elbow was rested on his knee, hand cradling his throbbing forehead.

"Harry? What is it? This is the third time tonight. It has to be more than just fatigue from this afternoon." Hermione was worried, but through his weariness and pain, all he could hear was nagging.

Harry was irritated. "I don't know, Hermione! I really don't! I haven't had any visions, have I! Don't bother with it. It's not like there's anything I can do - "

He'd left the library.

Things were going even better than expected. He could feel his lips curl into a smile. No, things couldn't have worked out better even if he'd wanted them to.

"Everything is ready, My Lord." The Death Eater before him was bowed low and extending an arm, inviting him to see their progress, while another figure close beside the first, was so low before him, he was almost lying flat on the concrete ground. For the first time in fifteen years, everything was perfect.

He walked passed one of those dirty Muggle automobiles to meet the other Death Eater waiting for him.

"The potion, My Lord," the waiting Death Eater said, handing a phial of iridescent green liquid to his master. The serpent pendent from around his neck fell away from his body as he too, prostrated himself.

"Excellent, Severus. Your diligence shall be greatly rewarded." He lifted the phial to his lips and swallowed. The potion was thicker than he expected, coating his mouth and throat with a metallic sweetness not unlike Unicorn blood.

The gentle warmth of the potion radiated out from his stomach up through his torso. He felt himself stand taller, and as the warmth made it's way down his legs and out through his arms, he could not help but spread them wide, basking in the power of it all. He felt the air around him simmer.

It was working.

He took a step forward. He had been waiting over two years to take this step. He fought the urge to chuckle as he continued walking, his faithful Death Eaters only a few short strides behind him.

He was so close.

At the sight of the gleaming brass number four, he turned sharply up the walk he'd been looking for. It was much smaller than he had always imagined it to be. This was no great Fortress of the Light, but merely a simple Muggle hovel, and he would soon have what he came for. He drew his wand.

Alohomora!

He felt only the slightest resistance before there was a small click, and the door opened a tiny crack. He'd made it. He pushed the door open wide and stepped beyond the threshold.

"AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Harry was laughing so hard, tears were leaking from his eyes, and his nose was running.

"Harry! Harry! What's wrong! Harry!"

Harry could not stop laughing. He also could not see for the pain that was blinding him. He was sure he was on the ground, but he didn't know how he'd gotten there. He thought he heard Hermione's voice. What did she want now?

"Harry!" Smack. Hermione had hit him across the face, and he sat up with a start, hands still clutching at his scar, one on top of the other.

He tried to ask what was happening, but the words wouldn't come. The searing in his scar would not allow him to speak. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth - he'd bitten his tongue.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Hermione, standing over him, tears streaming down her face. "Harry? Oh! Harry, what was that?" She wrapped him in a fierce hug.

As though his mouth was full of marbles, he managed, "Hermione. Vision. Something's wrong. I think Voldem-"

But, his scar felt like it burst clean open. His world went black for a second before he felt himself retch, and he threw up the entire contents of his stomach. The pain renewed itself as an even greater wave of it hit him like a Bludger.

He felt something warm and wet seep between his fingers. Had Hermione given him a cloth as Lupin had done at dinner?

Harry pulled a hand away from his fiery scar just long enough to see the ribbons of deep red blood running from his palm, down his wrist, and dripping from his elbow onto the floor.

The room around him became nothing but a swirl of light and color before it all went black.

-***-