Fic: The Dreaming

[alisanne]

Title: The Dreaming
Author: alisanne
Pairings/Characters: Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley (Draco/Pansy implied), Albus Dumbledore, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle/Voldemort.
Rating: R
Word count: 24,600-ish
Content/Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Character death, nothing unexpected from canon, mild violence.*
Summary: Harry knows something is wrong with the world. It takes someone else to show him what, however.
A/N: Written for the 2014 snape_potter Road Not Taken Fest. This story is heavily inspired by the film The Matrix, although I believe it can be understood without familiarity with that source material.
Thanks to emynn, sevfan and sassy_cissa for their assistance. Without them, I’m not sure this would have made any sense. *g* Thanks also to torino10154 for throwing this fabulous fest!



The Dreaming

~

He dreams of it constantly -- of a castle in ruins, of people dying all around him, of a creature with a face like a snake screaming at him -- and then of a warm, white light. He doesn’t know what the dreams mean, but he searches for answers by any and all means at his disposal. And when he hears the name of one who may have the answers, he searches for him, for the Phoenix. And always, he hopes.

~

Harry Evans yawns, his eyes blinking open to stare blearily at the computer screen. He’d been trawling search engines for any mention of the Phoenix again, but the man’s so elusive that he can escape police custody no matter how many officers they throw at him. Harry sighs, unsurprised to see his computer screen is blank; clearly the Phoenix has again slipped through the authorities’ fingers.

Sitting up, Harry rubs his eyes and yawns again, stretching his arms above his head and popping his back. After replacing his glasses on his face, he reaches forward to turn off the machine and go to bed, but before he can, a message pops up on the screen.

::Hello, Seeker::

Harry’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t go by that name except when hacking. He’s careful to wipe his browser memory regularly and to use only his laptop for hacking, but maybe one of his hacker contacts is using a new program to contact him? If so, he’s an idiot, Harry thinks.

::The Dreaming has you::

Suddenly alert, Harry leans forward, pressing the escape key. It has no effect, however, and the message stays on the screen. With a sigh, he leans back. “But what is the Dreaming?” he mutters, voice hoarse with disuse.

::Follow the winged ball::

Harry frowns, then his face clears. It’s probably one of his friends playing a trick. “Tossers,” he says, shaking his head. He hits the escape key again, this time repeatedly. The message doesn’t disappear, however, only changes. Harry stares uncomprehendingly at the new words.

::Knock, knock, Seeker::

What the--? There is a knock at the door and Harry winces, looking towards it. “Wh--who is it?” he manages.

“Paulo!”

Glancing back towards the screen, Harry sees the message has disappeared; the screen’s once again blank. Shaking his head at himself, he stands, approaching the door. Cracking it open, he blinks at the group of people standing there. “What?”

“Hey, mate.” Paulo, a smarmy man Harry met at a club a couple of weeks prior, smirks. Next to him is a skimpily dressed girl, who, when Harry looks at her, winks and licks her lips.

Harry looks away quickly. “Hey.”

“Do you have it?” Paulo asks, eyes glazed over with whatever mind-altering substance he’s on.

Harry hums. He doesn’t care what Paulo does to himself. After all, he tries to escape this reality as often as he can as well, so who’s he to judge? “I have it. Two thousand.”

Paulo smiles. “Right here, mate.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a stack of cash. “There you go.”

Grabbing it, Harry shuts the door in their faces and, walking over to his cabinet, takes a book off the shelf. Opening it, he rummages through its hollow centre, finding the program Paulo wants, an immersive kinky porn program Harry developed that’s proved very popular. Leaving the money inside, he takes the disc and returns to the door. “Here,” he says, handing it to Paulo. “But if anyone catches you with it--”

“Yeah, I know.” Paulo hums. “I dunno where I got it, and I’ve never heard of you.”

“Right.” Harry snorts. Paulo would sell him out in a heartbeat, but he needs the money, so he lets it go. “If that’s all--”

“We’re going out,” says Paulo. “Wanna come?”

Harry bites his lip. “I have to work tomorrow--”

“Oh come on,” says Paulo. His arm slides around the girl, who leans into him. “Unplug, mate. Have some fun. You only live once.”

Harry opens his mouth to refuse, but the words freeze on his tongue as he spots a tattoo on the girl’s shoulder, a white ball with wings. For a moment it seems as if the ball’s wings vibrate. He blinks. I didn’t just see that. It’s impossible... “Yeah,” he hears himself say, wondering what the fuck is wrong with him. “Sure, but just for a little while. I can’t be late to work again.”

The girl smirks. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

Slowly, Harry nods. “Fine. Just give me a second to change.”

The club is loud, crowded, and Harry doesn’t really know why he’s there, other than maybe he’s finally lost his mind. Quickly ditching Paulo and his crew, Harry finds a spot and, crossing his arms, leans against a wall to watch the dancers gyrate on the dance floor. The music is thumping, the singer shouting about witches.

He senses rather than hears someone approach. Turning his head, he sees a man and his breath hitches. Tall, slender, he’s got dark hair and dark eyes, and something about the expression in those eyes makes something inside Harry practically throb. He’s in a black leather cape, fitted black trousers, and a black shirt; he looks positively edible, and Harry licks his lips as the man moves closer, clearly intent on speaking with him.

“Hello, Seeker.”

His voice is potent, like fine whisky; it curls around Harry, mesmerising him. It takes a moment for Harry to register the name he used. He blinks. “How do you know that name?”

The man smiles. “I know many things.” He gives Harry a slow once-over. “For example, I know you’re searching for someone. And I know where to find him, and the answers you seek.”

Harry’s heart quickens. “Who are you?”

The man inclined his head. “They call me Prince.”

Harry frowns. “Prince. Wait, as in the Prince? The man who hacked into the American military’s main computer a few months ago?”

Prince’s smile deepens. “You heard about that?”

“Bloody hell, everyone’s heard about that!” Harry steps closer. “Wow. It’s just--” He shakes his head.

“What?” Prince seems amused.

“I thought you’d be older.”

Prince laughs and Harry gets the impression he doesn’t do it that often. “I’m probably much older than you think, Seeker.” He sobers and, moving closer, leans in. “But we don’t have much time. You’re looking for answers and we’ve been looking for you for a long time. Now that we’ve found you, you’ll get your answers.”

“Who’s we?” Harry inhales, smelling bitter herbs as well as something unidentifiable and male. His mouth waters. What the hell’s wrong with me?

Prince steps back. “Not here.” He looks around. “Too public. We’ll be in touch. Just...be careful, Seeker. If we’ve found you, others can, too. You’re in danger, trust no one.”

“Wait--” But Prince has already stepped back and, with a swirl of his cloak, dissolves into the crowd. Harry tries to follow but is unsuccessful. He spends the rest of the night searching the club for Prince, but to no avail.

Which is why he’s late for work. Again. And of course his boss is at his desk, arms crossed, waiting, when Harry finally arrives, out of breath. “Nice of you to finally join us, Evans,” he says, pointedly checking his watch. “My office. Now!”

Harry is distracted during the lecture, his mind on Prince, wondering when and how he’d see him again. He seemed to know a lot about me, Harry thinks as he’s threatened yet again with the loss of his job. And what did he mean about me being in danger?

“...late one more time then you can find yourself a new job elsewhere. Although good luck getting one once they read my review! Have I made myself clear enough?”

Harry blinks, coming back to the conversation at hand. “Yes, Mr Miller.”

“Now get out of my office.”

Harry slinks back to his desk, only to find a messenger waiting, a package in his hand. “Harry Evans?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, pushing past the man to sit at his desk. “That would be me.”

“Delivery for you.” The man hands him the package. “Sign here, please.”

After signing for the package, Harry rips it open. Probably another report from central, he thinks. But when he slides the contents out, he discovers it’s a mobile phone. He barely has time to blink before the phone starts to ring.

Frowning, he answers it, pressing it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Seeker. Do you know who this is?” The voice is smooth, sure, and without being sure how he knows who it is, Harry just does.

Hunching over his desk, Harry whispers, “Phoenix?”

“Yes.” Phoenix sounds satisfied, as if Harry has passed a test, and perhaps he has. “I understand you’ve been looking for me.”

“Yes.” Harry clears his throat, not sure where to start.

As it turns out, he doesn’t need to. “As I’ve been looking for you, my boy,” says Phoenix. “Unfortunately, I’m not the only one looking.”

Harry shivers. “You’re not?”

“No indeed. Now, Seeker, I’m afraid you’re going to have to run. They are on their way for you.”

“They?” Harry’s eyes go wide. “Who?”

“Death Eaters.” Phoenix sighs. “And they may not be gentle with you.”

“What the hell is a Death Eater?”

“You want to see them?” Phoenix hums. “Stand up and look. They’re by the lifts right now.” Harry moves to do so and Phoenix adds, “Slowly.”

Peeking up over the edge of his cubicle, Harry sees three man in dark suits standing by the lifts, just as Phoenix described, and as he watches, he sees them all turn to look in his direction. Dropping back behind his cube, Harry gasps. “Shit!”

“Indeed.”

“What do they want with me?” Harry asks, mind racing.

“I have no idea, and if you don’t want to find out first hand, I’d advise you to get out of there.”

“How?”

“I can guide you, but you must do exactly as I say when I say. No questions.”

“All right,” Harry whispers. “Help me, please.”

“They are coming, so when I say, you need to slip into the cubicle across from yours and hide.”

“But--”

“Don’t argue.” The note of command in Phoenix’s voice is oddly calming and Harry’s heart settles. “Just do as I say. Move now.”

Harry exhales and, closing his eyes, dives across the small hallway and into the nearest cubicle, which is empty. He crouches beneath the desk and waits, biting his lower lip hard.

“...where is he?” comes a cold, high voice that makes Harry shiver.

“He’s supposed to be at his desk.” Mr Miller sounds pissed. “When we do find him he’s so fired!”

Fuck that, thinks Harry. I quit! As they move away, however, Harry realises he needs to get out safely before he can resign. The mobile still to his ear, he waits.

“They’ve gone,” says Phoenix finally. “Now, when I say, come out and go to the end of the row, staying low all the time. When you get there, go into to the office by the back wall and I’ll give you further instructions.”

Harry swallows hard. “Okay.”

“Go!” the Phoenix snaps and Harry springs into action, diving back into the hallway and narrowly missing a policeman who’s standing there. Fortunately, his back is turned and Harry, still crouched low, makes it undetected to the end of the row and into the office, closing the door behind him.

Before he can tell the Phoenix he’s made it, however, he’s getting more instructions. “Good. But you’re not clear yet.”

Harry stares at the phone. “How do you know all this? How are you doing this?”

“We don’t have time to discuss it right now. Let’s get you out first. Now, there is a scaffold at the window. You can use that to get to the roof.”

“The roof?” Harry shakes his head. “I hate heights.”

There is a pause. “You’re afraid of heights? Who told you that?”

“I-- No one.” Harry frowns. “I just am.”

“You’re wrong.” The Phoenix sounds very sure of himself. “In fact-- Never mind. We can talk about that once we get you out. Now do as I say and get to the roof.”

“I can’t!”

“Then they will find you and take you in for questioning and there will be nothing I can do about it. Are you or are you not a Gryffindor?”

“A what? Are you even speaking English?” Pulling it back from his ear, Harry stares at the mobile. “If you’re not going to help me, then--”

“I’m trying to help you. Do as I say or don’t, either way, the next step is up to you.” The mobile goes dead, and with a muttered curse, Harry tosses it aside.

He climbs out the window and tries to get on the scaffold, he really does, but the wind buffets him and as he clings to the outside of the building, he makes the mistake of looking down, and his vision goes blurry. He moves one foot, then another, but his foot slips and his glasses almost slide off his face and he comes close to falling. Closing his eyes, he exhales. “Fuck this,” he whispers. “I can’t do this. Nothing is worth this.”

They find him shaking, clinging to the windowsill, and as they drag him away and out of the building, Harry looks for a way to escape, any way. Sadly, there is nothing, and he’s bundled into the back of a black car. As they push his head down he thinks he sees a familiar shape, but when he looks again the man who he’d thought might have been Prince is gone.

He’s taken to what looks like a military installation, where he’s dragged into a bare room and shoved into a chair. He’s left alone for several hours; Harry’s sure that’s part of their strategy to break him, but he’s seen movies, he knows how the bastard military types work.

When the agent enters, Harry is ready. “I know my rights,” he says. “I’m entitled to representation.”

The agent hums. “And a good day to you, Mr Evans. My name is Agent Riddle and I believe we can be of assistance to each other.”

Harry narrows his eyes. For a moment Riddle seems almost familiar, but the moment passes and, shaking his head, Harry sits back in his chair and waits.

Riddle settles across from Harry and smirks as Harry glares at him. “We know a lot about you, Mr Evans,” he says, his voice cold and high. “For example, you are known in the real world as Harry Evans. You are unfailingly polite to your neighbours, even helping them take out their rubbish. And, in your other persona you are known as Seeker, where you traffic in illegal programs and hack into places where you do not belong. Now, we’re willing to overlook these infractions because you can lead us to a criminal we’ve been seeking for a very long time. A man named the Phoenix.”

“And if I don’t help you?” Harry asks, glaring at the agent.

“Then you’ll help us anyway, so I’d advise you to simply tell us where he is and save us all time and aggravation.”

Harry crosses his arms. “Whatever. I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re not fooling me with this Gestapo bullshit, Agent Riddle. I know my rights, and I’m entitled to a phone call!”

“Are you?” Riddle’s smile is unsettling. “Tell me, Mr Evans, how can you make a phone call when you’re unable to speak?” He makes a strange movement with his hand.

“Mmm--” Harry tries to reply, but, inexplicably, finds he can’t. Eyes going wide, he pushes back from the table, but he can’t even do that. His voice is stuck in his throat, his mouth cannot open, and Riddle’s face fills his field of vision.

“Now, since you have refused to cooperate, I’ll have to take the information I require directly from your mind.”

Harry tries to look away, tries to blink, but he can’t, and he feels Riddle in his mind, sifting through his every memory, as if searching for something. It’s impossible, his mind is screaming. No one can do this! And yet Riddle is.

Finally, finally Riddle stops and looks away, and Harry closes his eyes. He feels violated, used.

“Hm.” Riddle stands, begins pacing. “It appears you’re right, you don’t know where the Phoenix is located. But it seems he and his associates have taken an interest in you, so you can yet be of use. Bring it in, Yaxley.”

Bring what in? Harry has time to think before a hard-faced, dead-eyed man enters, carrying what looks like a tiny rubber snake.

“Hold him,” says Riddle, and as Harry starts to struggle, Yaxley grabs him, keeps him in place. Riddle smiles. “I’d tell you to relax, that this won’t hurt, but I know you won’t and, well, this will hurt. But you will have the consolation of knowing that you’re doing something useful with your miserable life for once.”

Harry’s arms are pulled behind him, and his shirt is opened. Then, navel bare, he’s pressed backwards onto the table. Riddle hums, holding up the snake. He presses a tiny button on its side and a red light goes on. The snake starts to writhe in his hands.

Internally shrieking but unable to make a sound, Harry renews his efforts to escape, but he’s held fast. And as Riddle places the snake onto his stomach, it burrows inside, ripping and tearing his flesh, and Harry is screaming and screaming and screaming--

Panting, Harry sits up in bed, clutching at his navel. It’s clear, nothing’s there, and as his heart slows, he groans, closing his eyes and collapsing back onto this bed. “Bloody hell,” he whispers. “What a fucked up dream.”

His heart has just settled into a slow, steady beat when the phone rings, startling him. He considers letting it go to voicemail, but, with a sigh, decides to answer it. He’s not sure who he’s expecting, but it’s not the smooth familiar tone he hears. “Hello, Seeker.”

“Phoenix?” Harry sits up. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

“They let you go, Seeker. If they knew what I knew, you’d be dead.”

“What do you know?”

“We can’t talk on this line, it’s being monitored. Someone is on the way to pick you up. Be ready.”

“Wha--?” But the line has already gone dead. Harry puts down the phone and, getting up, puts on some clothes.

It’s raining when he gets outside, and by the time the large, dark car pulls up, he’s soaked. Prince opens the door and gestures him inside. There are others there as well, but Harry ignores them, focussing solely on Prince.

He’s in black again, not leather this time, but some sort of flowing black fabric that makes him look like a priest. Or a university professor. “Take off your shirt,” he says, and his voice is even more mellifluous than Harry remembers.

Harry blinks as the words catch up with him. “What?”

The car screeches to a halt and the driver, a pointy-faced blond, sneers. “Look you little merde embulante, we don’t have time for this. Either you do what we say, when we say it, or we dump you off on the side of the road and let them have you.”

“Fine!” snaps Harry, his hand on the door.

Prince glares at the blond. “Shut up, Dragon.”

Dragon huffs. “But honestly. He needs to get a move on. They’re going to track us.”

“He’s right,” says the girl sitting next to him. Her hair is short and dark, her face vaguely reminds Harry of a pug, and she’s staring at the screen of a small device in her lap. “They’re on the move already.”

“They who?”

Prince exhales and places a hand on Harry’s arm. “The people who captured you earlier. You may not recall much, but they wouldn’t have let you go without ensuring they could trace you. We want to remove the tracer.”

Harry gets a flash of penetrating eyes and a tiny, writhing snake and he shudders. “How?”

“Hurry up!” says the girl, tapping her computer screen.

“Trust us. Trust me.” Prince stares into Harry’s eyes and slowly, Harry nods. He’s got this far on his instincts.

“All right,” he says, giving Prince a tiny smile and releasing the door handle.

“Going into evasive mode,” says Dragon, putting the car in gear once more and speeding off. As he takes a fast corner, the momentum throws Harry and Prince against each other. Prince’s arms bracket Harry.

“Easy,” murmurs Prince. “Try to relax.”

It feels safe in Prince’s arms and, reassured, Harry nods, although when Prince pulls a knife, his eyes widen.

“This will hurt,” Prince says. “But only for a moment.”

Before Harry is able to rethink things, Prince has bared his navel and slips the knife into his belly-button, under his skin. The pain is sharp, and Harry starts to struggle.

“A little help here?” snarls Prince.

The girl points a stick at Harry who then, inexplicably, can’t move.

What the fuck--? Harry’s thoughts spin away as Prince, his face set in concentration, continues digging inside him as if searching for something.

“Got it!” Prince reaches his fingers inside to pull out...

Harry can suddenly move and he scrambles backward, staring at the thing in Prince’s hand. It’s a snake with glowing red eyes, covered in his blood, and it’s wrapping itself around Prince’s wrist as if seeking a way to burrow under his skin. “What the fuck?!” he shouts. “You mean to tell me that thing’s real?!”

Prince hums as he opens the window. “As real as anything can be here,” he says.

The snake hisses and somehow, Harry hears words. “Wait,” he says.

Prince raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The snake. It’s--” Harry blinks and concentrates. He can almost hear the words... “You can talk?” he finally says to it.

The snake stops writhing and raises its head. And, as Prince curses and starts to toss it outside, it hisses, “We will find you, Sssseeker!”

Harry looks out the rear window to see it lying in the road, and as they turn another corner, its red eyes go dark.

“It spoke to you, didn’t it?” Prince says as he closes the window and reaches into a bag. He pulls out a bandage, which he presses to Harry’s still oozing wound. “What did it say?”

Harry shakes his head. “It said they would find me.” He frowns. “Wait, couldn’t you hear it?”

Dragon snorts from the front seat. “Not all of us speak Parseltongue.”

“Speak what?” Harry’s head is spinning.

“Enough!” snaps Prince as he finishes securing the bandage. “We don’t want to confuse things, Dragon. Just get us to the rendezvous point and Phoenix will handle the rest.”

“Yes, sir,” mutters Dragon.

“We’ve lost them,” says the girl. “At least for a little while.”

“Thank you, Petal.” Prince exhales and starts cleaning his hands. “Let’s hope that it’s enough.”

They arrive at a warehouse, and as they all exit the car, Dragon and Petal moving ahead, Prince puts a hand on Harry’s arm, holding him back for a moment. “Before you see Phoenix, a word of advice.”

Harry nods.

“Be as honest as you can. He knows more than you can imagine.” Prince’s lips twist. “Much more.”

They go up stairs and down a hallway towards a set of double doors. As the doors open and Harry is ushered inside, he gets the impression of old wood and book-lined shelves. A man, his hair lined with red and silver, rises from behind a desk. He’s wearing what can only be described as tie-dye robes, and his blue eyes are twinkling. Harry instinctively trusts him. “Seeker. I’m Phoenix,” he says, moving forward, his hand outstretched.

Harry smiles. “Sir. It’s an honour to meet you.”

Phoenix’s grip is firm. “Oh no, my boy.” Phoenix leads him towards some leather chairs that are facing each other. “The honour is all mine.” He looks over Harry’s shoulder. “Prince, stay, I want you here for this.”

Inclining his head, Prince nods. “Of course.”

They all sit, Prince to the side, just behind Phoenix, his expression closed.

“You have questions,” says Phoenix.

Harry winces, dragging his gaze from the oddly mesmerising Prince. “I do, yes.”

“All who seek me do.” Phoenix leans back in his chair. “Ask.”

Harry opens his mouth, his questions bubbling up on his tongue, but before he can start, Phoenix says, “I suspect I know why you’re here, though. Shall I tell you what I believe?” At Harry’s nod, he continues. “You are here because you know something. You can’t say how you know, you just do. There’s something wrong with the world, and you want to know what it is.”

Harry exhales. “Yes! Exactly!”

Phoenix inclines his head. “I imagine you’ve also noticed you can do things. Strange things. Things you can’t always explain. Let me first tell you that no, you are not going mad.”

Harry’s eyes go wide. “How did you--?”

Holding up a hand, Phoenix sits back in his chair. “I know many things, Seeker. And I’m sure you have many questions, chief among them being--”

“What is the Dreaming?” Harry whispers.

Prince leans forward as if eager to hear what Phoenix says.

Phoenix smiles, but Harry senses he’s being careful with his answer. “This will sound like an excuse, but the Dreaming cannot be explained. It must be experienced. The Dreaming is all around you. It’s in the air you breathe, in the food you eat. It’s with you when you bathe, when you go to work, when you dance. It surrounds you and it holds you captive.”

Harry’s breath quickens. This is what he’s sensed around him, trapping him.

“I can provide answers,” continues Phoenix. “But you may not like them. And there is no going back. Once you agree to this, I cannot reverse it. This will change your life. It will change everything.”

Swallowing hard, Harry nods. Thinking about his uninspiring job, and his even less inspiring personal life, he shrugs. “I don’t have much of a life right now, anyway,” he says. “Can’t get much worse.”

“We’ll see.” Phoenix turns to Prince. “Do you have them?”

“Of course.” Prince smirks and, reaching into his pocket, pulls out two glass containers, both of which he places in Phoenix’s palm.

“Thank you.” Phoenix transfers one phial to his right hand before extending both hands towards Harry, palms up. “These potions contain the way to the answers you seek. If you choose the blue liquid, you go back to sleep and wake up in your own bed, none the worse for wear. You can chalk this up to a bad trip, or whatever you want to believe. But take the red, and I will show you wonders.”

Harry glances at Prince, whose expression remains unreadable. He obviously chose the red, how can I not? he thinks. There’s hardly any choice at all. He reaches for the red liquid, but as he’s about to touch it, however, Phoenix closes his fist. “You’re absolutely sure?”

Harry nods. “Positive. I want to know.”

Phoenix opens his fist and, before he can change his mind, Harry plucks it from Phoenix’s palm, opens it, and swallows it. Prince once more takes possession of the blue.

With an air of satisfaction, Phoenix rises to his feet, gesturing for Harry to follow him. “Good man. Come with us.”

Harry follows them through another set of double doors into another room, in which have been set up several computer monitors. People are busily working, but everyone looks up when they enter.

“These are some of the members of the Order who accompanied me here tonight,” says Phoenix. He nods at the assembled people. “You’ve met several of them, now let me introduce the others. This is Transformer--” A handsome black man nods. “Cerebro.” A bushy-haired girl openly appraises him. “Golden girl.” A red-headed girl smirks. “And Spider.”

Spider stares at him for a long moment, and before Harry turns away he thinks he’s sees animosity in his eyes.

Phoenix has already moved on. “And of course you were brought here by Prince, Dragon and Petal.”

Looking away from Spider, Harry meets their eyes and nods. Prince is a steady presence behind him.

Dragon, alongside Petal, starts busily typing away on a keyboard. He smirks. “Took the red potion, did you? I knew you were a fool.”

“Now, Dragon,” scolds Phoenix as he leads Harry past. “You did the same thing when offered the choice.”

Dragon’s lips twist. “That doesn’t mean we’re not both idiots.”

Petal smirks. “Aren’t we all?”

Phoenix gestures to a chair. “Have a seat. We’ll need to work quickly to locate you via your magical signature and it’s best if you’re relaxed when it happens. Anything yet, Transformer?”

“Not yet.”

“My what signature?” Harry starts to laugh, but stops when it looks like they are serious. “Wait, when what happens?” Frowning, Harry sits as, all around him, people begin typing at computers, ignoring him. “And I’m right here.” As Prince straps him in and attaches what look like heart monitors, Harry whispers, “You did this, too?”

Prince hums. “Indeed I did.” His eyes lock on Harry’s. “I hope your...awakening is a better one than mine was, however.”

“Why? What happened?”

“It’s best if you experience it for yourself.” Prince moves to adjust something, and Harry’s nose is momentarily pressed to Prince’s neck. Harry swallows hard. Prince still smells fabulous, and the scent is somehow calming. “Are you afraid?” Prince asks, pulling back to look at Harry.

Harry licks his lips. He’s not afraid exactly. “I’m a bit apprehensive, yeah,” he finally says.

Prince nods. “You’d be a fool not to be.”

As Prince and the Order members continue what they’re doing, Harry looks over at a broken mirror that’s been propped up against a wall. It’s an old one, with silver spots along the edges, and as he watches it, it starts to move. At first Harry thinks it’s his imagination, but soon the previously shattered mirror has solidified into a solid, unbroken sheet. “Did...did you see that?” he asks no one in particular.

Prince is right there, followed by Phoenix. “What is it?” Prince asks.

Harry points to the mirror, his finger brushing the surface. Inexplicably, it’s liquid, and when he pulls away, a bit of liquid silver is left on his skin. “What the--? Did you see that?” Harry whispers.

Phoenix and Prince exchange a long look. “The hallucinations are starting,” snaps Prince. “He’s going into arrest.”

“Have you located him yet?” asks Phoenix. “We’re running out of time.”

Harry stares, starting to squirm as the liquid silver begins to spread, slowly at first, until it’s at his elbow, then his shoulder, then all over him. “Help!” he shouts, trying to free his arms from the restraints. “Help!”

All around him, Harry can hear shouting and the beeping of machinery but as the silver flows over his face, his eyes, and down his throat, it all fades.

Eyes blinking open, Harry stares up at...nothing? Confused, he tries to sit up but can’t, his arms are being held fast by...something. He struggles weakly at first, but then more vigorously, but he still can’t get up. Looking down at his arms, he freezes. There are tendrils of what look like light attached to his arms, sucking on him, and even as he watches, he sees them starting to fall off.

He renews his struggles, and, as more and more of the light tendrils fall away, he’s able to see...His eyes widen.

Stretched out as far as he can see are other bodies, all with light tendrils attached to them, too. The tendrils stretch from above, beyond where he can detect.

As soon as the last tendril falls away, there is a pop and there are people next to him. Harry’s eyes widen as he recognises Phoenix and Prince. Phoenix has changed; his hair is now completely white, and his beard is longer. His clothes are still blindingly bright, however.

Harry is hauled to his feet, but his legs buckle beneath him and he’s caught by--He gapes. It’s Prince, but he looks older, his face more careworn. As Prince swings him up into his arms, Harry closes his eyes against nausea. “What--?”

“Shh,” Prince soothes. “I have you.”

“Quickly,” says Phoenix. “We must go before anyone detects us.”

Prince shifts and Harry cries out as the world blurs. He feels an almost unbearable squeezing sensation around his body, and when it stops he opens his eyes. He’s in a room, with a bed. There is weak sunshine coming through the window.

As he looks up into Prince’s face, Prince smiles. “We have you, Harry. We got you out. Welcome to the wizarding world.”

Harry tries to speak, to ask what’s happening, but instead, the world goes dark. There are intermittent moments of lucidity, however, interspersed with snatches of conversation.

“We found him, Severus. I knew we would.”

“Indeed. So it seems.”

“Did you doubt?”

“At times.”

“And now?”

“Now...only time will tell if he is strong enough to do what is required.”

When Harry is able to open his eyes, they hurt. When he asks why, Phoenix presses a soothing hand to his forehead. “Because you haven’t used them in over a year. Rest, Harry. Answers are coming soon.”

As time passes, they continue to whisper over him and Harry continues to listen.

“You are more of an optimist than am I.”

“It’s not a matter of optimism, it’s a matter of fate. We knew this would happen.”

“Because of the Oracle?” Prince snorts. “She’s even madder than Trelawney was.”

“Thus far her predictions have all come true.”

There is a pause. “Not all.” Prince sounds...defensive.

“Quiet. He needs his rest.”

Harry wakes up to silence. Opening his eyes, he looks around. He’s in a small bedroom, the windows are shuttered. He sits up and his head swims a bit but then settles. Looking down at his arms, he sees small holes. He winces, running a hand over his skin as he recalls the tendrils.

There are voices in the distance and, moving slowly, Harry sits up on the side of the bed. On the side table he spots some glasses and, putting them on, sighs as his vision sharpens. Then, with a deep breath, he stands. He’s a bit unsteady, but his legs hold, and he recalls hands massaging his muscles. I need answers, he thinks, eyeing the door.

He moves slowly down a hallway, towards the voices. He gets to stairs, which he manages to carefully navigate, and at the bottom he finds a large room in which at least thirty people are gathered, a lot of them with red hair. He stands at the door for a moment just watching.

Prince sees him first. “Harry.”

“Harry?” They all turn to look at him and a large woman with kind eyes hurries towards him. “Oh, my boy!”

There is a flurry of activity then, with assorted people hugging and kissing him, but throughout it all, Harry’s eyes are locked to Prince, who looks amused.

“Let him breathe,” Phoenix finally says. “And it’s only his first day back on his feet, let him sit as well.”

Once he’s seated, Harry looks around. He recognises several people: Dragon, Petal, Transformer, Spider, but the others he doesn’t. Phoenix coughs. “I haven’t yet had a chance to explain to Harry what’s going on. Perhaps we could have a moment?”

There is some grumbling, but finally, the woman who greeted him so exuberantly, stands. “You’re right, Albus, I mean Phoenix. He needs to see what we’re dealing with. Come along, everyone. Albus and Harry need privacy.”

“Thank you, Molly,” says Phoenix.

Harry bites his lip as Prince moves towards the door as well.

“Perhaps a few of you can stay,” says Phoenix, his eyes twinkling. “Prince and Cerebro I think.”

Prince settles in a chair, Cerebro hovers by the door.

Molly smiles. “It’s wonderful to have you back, Harry. But Phoenix has things to tell you, so we’ll leave you to it.”

“First, welcome home, Harry,” Phoenix says once the door is closed.

Harry exhales. “Home?”

“Yes.” Phoenix hums. “This is the wizarding world. And we are your friends. You’ve been...asleep for almost eighteen months.”

Harry frowns. “It’s been that long since you brought me here, you mean?”

“No. That was a week ago.” Phoenix hums. “Perhaps it’s best if I show you. Come with me.”

He’d led into an adjoining room in where there are tendrils hanging from the ceiling and a circle of recliners. Harry recoils. “Steady,” says Phoenix. “These are ours, under our control. It’s the way we enter the Dreaming, now that we’ve extracted ourselves physically.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“I know.” Phoenix smiles. “Just trust me a little while longer and all will be revealed. Prince?”

Prince guides Harry towards a chair. “Sit,” he says. “And try to relax.”

Nervous, Harry nevertheless obeys, and as the chair is leaned back, Prince reached for a tendril. Across from him, Phoenix is also settling into a chair, Cerebro assisting him. When she pulls out a stick and starts waving it over him, lights appear over his head. Harry’s eyes widen. “What is she doing?” he whispers. “And how is she doing it?”

“She’s putting a Monitoring Charm on him,” says Prince “And as for how-- Well, she’s using magic. Technology dampens magic, so we try to use as little technology as possible.” He, too, pulls a stick and lights appear over Harry’s head.

Harry blinks. “Magic?” He starts to smile. “You’re joking. This is some sort of parlour trick.”

Prince smirks. “You’ll see,” he says and, taking the tendril, he presses it to Harry’s forehead. “Now, this will feel a bit...odd.”

There is a sharp pain, and Harry gets the impression of an explosion of light and then-- He frowns, looking around. “What the--?”

“Welcome to our practice space. We call it the mini-Dream.” Phoenix, once again looking the way he did when Harry first saw him, smiles. “As you can see, it’s rather sparse.”

Harry spins in a circle, scanning the blank emptiness. “So where are we right now?”

“Think of it as being very similar to a computer: a simulation, only not.”

Harry purses his lips. “Like some sort of immersive video game?”

“Of a sort, yes.” He smiles at Harry’s sceptical look. “Is it so difficult to believe? The holes in your arms and legs are gone, for example, and both our appearances and clothing have changed. How could that have happened if we were still in the waking world?”

Harry’s eyes widen as he looks down and realises Phoenix is right. He’s wearing the jumper and jeans he had been when they picked him up in the rain, and Phoenix once again looks younger.

“What you see now is how you think of yourself. We call it residual self image.”

Harry considers this. “So I could make myself younger if I wanted?”

“Or older.” Phoenix smiles. “Although very few choose that option.” Sobering, he continues, “Now, as Prince told you earlier, technology and magic do not mix well, but we can simulate many scenarios here, including magical ones. It allows us to hone our magic.”

“Magic.” Harry huffs.

Phoenix smiles. “Again with the scepticism. Have you never done something you can’t explain? Or somehow known something that you shouldn’t have known?” He inclines his head. “Prince mentioned that you spoke to a tracer snake on the way here. How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know.” Harry bites his lip. “And you know I’ve had weird things happen to me.”

Phoenix nods. “Of course you have. And I should tell you, you’ve done some truly extraordinary things in the past. My job is to get you to remember how you did those things, and to get you to repeat some of them.” He exhales. “But first, I must tell you what happened. Sit.”

Harry shakes his head. “I think I’d rather stand for this.”

“As you wish.” Phoenix sits. Pulling a stick from his pocket, he places it on a table that appeared in front of him and that hadn’t been there seconds before. “That’s yours, by the way. Prince found it in the woods a few years ago. When you leave this simulation, the real one will be waiting for you. But it’s best you become accustomed to seeing it and using it in here as well.”

Harry’s hands tighten on the back of the chair as he resists the urge to pick it up. “Just tell me.”

“Very well.” Phoenix closes his eyes. “Twenty years ago, there was an evil wizard terrorising the world. Not just the wizarding world, but the entire world. Even those with no magical abilities to speak of were aware of him on some level.

“At the height of his power, he heard about a boy who would one day come to challenge him, and he decided to kill the boy and his parents before he could pose a threat. As it turns out, he managed to corrupt one of the friends of the boy’s parents, who, having entrusted their safety to the wrong person, ended up having this friend later betray their location to the evil wizard.

“Thinking he had won, the wizard killed the boy’s father and then went after his mother, thinking she would be easy prey, but she was a clever witch, and she found a way to protect her son with the power of her love. So while she did die, when the wizard tried to kill her son, the curse rebounded, killing the evil wizard instead.”

Harry blinks, watching the events play out around them in cartoon form, as if they’re in a giant cartoon IMAX movie theatre. Fascinated despite himself, he nods. “Okay.”

Phoenix hums. “Or so we thought. The evil wizard was cleverer than anyone imagined. He had split his soul into several pieces, you see, so that just in case someone did manage to kill him, he’d be able to return. Immortality has ever been his goal. He hid those pieces of his soul in objects of particular significance to him, which he then secured in various out-of-the-way places throughout the country.

“He still needed a body, however, since his attempt to kill the boy destroyed his original one. And it took him many years to procure one. About eleven years, in fact. And so finally, he possessed a man who then went on to become a teacher at the boy’s school.”

“Let me guess,” says Harry, eyes narrowed. “He went after the boy.”

Phoenix nods. “Indeed he did. He failed, fortunately, but with each subsequent attempt to get to the boy he grew stronger until finally, he returned in full force to hunt the boy down.”

“But the boy fought back.”

Phoenix smiles. “Did he ever. He thwarted the wizard at every turn, and once the boy found out about the missing pieces of the wizard’s soul, he hunted them down and destroyed them. And then he defeated the wizard in a duel, thus saving the world.”

“This is all interesting,” says Harry, as the last of the scene fades around them. “But what does it have to do with me?”

Phoenix sighs. “Because that wasn’t the end of the story. It seems the wizard realised there was a chance he could lose. So he had a contingency plan prepared just in case. It was called the Dreaming.”

Harry goes cold. “And what is that, exactly?”

“When a powerful wizard dies, it releases a lot of magic. Normally that magic disperses into the world, to be absorbed by animals and plants, but he cast a spell in his moment of death, using his magic to put the entire world to sleep.”

Harry frowns. “To what purpose?”

“To allow him to recover and find the one who defeated him and kill him. Once he accomplished his goal, however, and placed the world in a dream state, he discovered a truth. That truth is that everyone and everything has magic, even Muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“Non-magical folk.” Phoenix pauses. “Well, they cannot access their own magic, but, it seems, the wizard can. And when he put the world into a collective dream, it allowed him and his followers to drain that magic for their own evil purposes.”

“Drain--” Harry gasps, rubbing the spot on his skin where the tendrils had been attached. “Oh my God!”

“Yes,” says Phoenix. “You recall the devices attached to you when we found you? Those drain the magic from people.”

Harry shakes his head. “So the entire world is asleep?”

“It is. Except for those of us who either were immune to the spell, or those who were subsequently freed from the Dreaming.”

“Okay, so then why don’t you just free everyone and solve the problem?”

Phoenix sighs. “Because even if we could, not everyone wants to be freed. Some like the dream world. Some are content in that state, some are more successful in this dream world than they were in the real one. But in the dream world, only the wizard and his followers have access to magic.”

Harry does sit then, since his legs threaten to give out. “So why did you free me?” he whispers, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Phoenix smiled. “Can’t you guess? You’re the one who defeated him before, Harry. Your mother’s sacrifice allowed you to live and ultimately defeat the evil wizard. And you’re the only one powerful enough to do it again. We’ve been looking for you a long time.”

Harry shakes his head. “But I don’t have any magic.”

“You do; as I explained, all people do, it’s just been drained from you. But you have more magic than most, Harry, so much so that it was manifesting in the Dream, and now that you’ve been disconnected, it’s returning. Once it’s fully replenished, you’ll need to learn how to use it once more.” Phoenix leans forward. “You were once a good student. You shall have to be a great one now, however. Fortunately, that’s one benefit of the tendrils. We can teach you what you need to know very quickly.”

“But surely someone else can do it,” Harry says. “Why me?”

“Because you are the Chosen One.” Phoenix leans back in his chair. “You’ve lost your memories, but there is someone who can return them to you. Once she does, however, we’ll have limited time.”

“Why?”

“Because Tom is linked to you, although he doesn’t realise that either.”

“Tom?”

“Tom Riddle. That’s the evil wizard’s name.”

Harry’s mouth drops open. “Riddle? You mean that agent who detained me?” Harry can feel the blood draining from his face. “He read my mind! He took away my mouth! He--”

“He Legilimised and then hexed you.” Phoenix sighs. “I knew he would look into your mind, which was why I waited until after he detained you to pick you up. If he’d seen any of this--”

“I’d be dead already,” Harry whispers. He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “So how can I help? Is there a way to wake everyone up?”

“There is. You must locate his body and disconnect it from the system. Only then will the magic drain cease and the spell end.”

“And how am I supposed to find him?”

“Your best chance will be using the connection you have with him. Although, I think the Oracle will help.”

“The Oracle? Who’s that?”

“A Seer. She has accurately predicted everything that’s happened so far. She told me that I would find you. And she’s the one who can return your memories to you. However, she’s also told me that once you get your memories back, he shall, too.” Phoenix purses his lips. “And that as soon as that happens he won’t stop until he finds you. So, in to answer your original question of what is the Dreaming. The Dreaming is a simulated state, established by a madman in order to turn the entirety of humanity into a magical power source, from which he and his minions feed. And you’re the only one who can end it. We will help you, but in the end, it will all come down to you.”

Harry stands up. “No. I...this is mad. I have to get out of here. Let me out!”

“Breathe, Harry.”

“I...”

“End simulation,” snaps Phoenix.

For a moment Harry is suspended in air, and the next he’s staring up into Prince’s face. “Are you all right?” Prince asks as he disconnects Harry from the tendrils.

“I..” Feeling sick, Harry tries to get out of the chair, stumbling across the room towards the door. “I have to--Oh God--”

While he’s been under, others have entered the room and they are all watching. Spider snorts. “He’s going to lose it,” he warns.

“He’ll be fine.” Phoenix, now disconnected from his tendrils, approaches him, looking concerned. “Breathe, Harry. Just breathe.”

Harry tries, but his vision is going spotty and he falls to his knees, gasping for air. “I...can’t--” And, as he sicks up on the carpet, the room fades away and he loses consciousness.

When Harry wakes, he’s back in the bedroom, and the sun is down. On the bedside table he sees the wand Phoenix said was his. Reaching towards it, Harry picks it up. It’s warm to the touch and he sighs, inexplicably feeling better as he cradles it to him.

Phoenix, sitting by his bed, is silent. The room is dark.

“I can’t go back, can I?” Harry finally whispers.

“No.” Phoenix leans forward in his chair. “But honestly, would you want to?”

Closing his eyes, Harry bites his lip.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I really am. And I expected this, actually. Often when we free a mind, the mind has trouble letting go of the dream world. But in your case we had no choice.”

Harry exhales. “That world has always felt like a dream to me,” he finally says. “But this--this is a nightmare!” He lies in silence for a while. “You all have different names here.”

“We do,” confirms Phoenix. “My name is Albus Dumbledore, but you can call me whichever you like.”

“And Prince?”

Dumbledore hesitates. “His name is Severus. I should probably let him tell you the rest of his history. You and he...well, let’s just say you had a very tempestuous relationship before. Actually, you have a...history with everyone here, but not everyone’s memories have been restored. We’ve only been doing that on a case-by-case basis.”

“This is mad,” says Harry. “Everyone but me knows what’s going on.”

“I know it seems that way, but your time is coming. This is all difficult to accept. To be honest, I’d be worried if you weren’t having trouble.” He hears the chair move and when he next opens his eyes, he sees Dumbledore moving towards the door. “Get some rest,” Dumbledore says. “Your training starts tomorrow.”

It’s a long time before Harry sleeps, however, and once he does drift off he sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning. He’s staring up at the ceiling when morning comes, and he hears people moving about for a while before, eventually, someone knocks on the door.

Harry sits up. “Yes?”

The door opens and one of the redheads he saw the day before opens the door. “Morning,” he says. He smiles. “Did you sleep well?”

Harry hesitates. “Um--”

“Yeah, I can tell you didn’t, but you will tonight.” The man smiles. “You don’t remember me, but we’re friends. My name’s Ron, and I’m to operate your mini-Dream today. Are you ready?”

Harry sighs. “Sure. Why not?”

Ron is chatty and friendly and he immediately puts Harry at ease. So much so that when he attaches a tendril to Harry, he barely feels it. “So we’re supposed to start with the basics of magic,” Ron says, rolling his eyes. “But I think we should do something a lot more interesting, don’t you?”

“Erm, sure,” says Harry. “Like what?”

Ron’s grin is feral. “Duelling training.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay--”

“Right, close your eyes and hang on for the ride.” Ron waves his stick, his wand, and Harry is...elsewhere. His mind opens and for a moment it seems he sees everything.

His eyes widen. It’s as if knowledge is pouring into him. Things he’s never conceived of: Transfiguration, Charms, magical theory, it all settles in his mind as if it had always been there but had somehow been lost, and when Ron brings him out of the mini-Dream, Harry’s panting, exhausted as if he’s been running. Uphill. For hours. Carrying Ron. “Wow,” he whispers.

Ron winks. “Good, eh? Just wait until we get to the really fun stuff. I can’t wait to see what you think of Quidditch.”

They are at it for hours, Ron interspersing drier subjects like History of Magic with more exciting ones like non-verbal duelling and wandless magic. Harry finds Arithmancy and Runes oddly fascinating, and, shaking his head, Ron gives him the advanced knowledge of those, too.

When, many hours later, he sits up, Prince is there. Blinking up at him, Harry smiles and says, “I know magic.”

Prince’s answering smile is pure challenge. “Show me.”

Within moments they are back in the mini-Dream, but it’s different. They face each other across a raised stage. Harry frowns, looking around. “Where are we?”

“A recreation of the site of your first duel,” Prince says, wand raised. “I should know, since I was there.”

“My first duel?” Harry smiles. “I used to duel?”

“Oh yes. You’ve had many duels.” Prince bows, the traditional start to a duel, as Harry now knows. “Ready?”

Raising his own wand in return, Harry bows in response.

Prince hums. “Good. Then you may attempt to hex me.”

Harry blinks. “But--”

“I thought you said you knew magic?” Prince inclines his head. “Come on, show me what you can do.”

Raising his wand, Harry casts a Jelly-Leg Jinx which Prince blocks effortlessly. Harry then tries a flurry of other jinxes, none of which get through his defences. As they continue circling each other however, he’s grinning. He’s having fun; there’s something joyous about this, something familiar.

Prince seems satisfied. “Good. Adaptation, improvisation-- All signs that you’ve managed to learn something today.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Your weakness doesn’t appear to be your technique.”

Harry nods, and attacks.

The fight is fierce. Light streams from both their wands and, after the first few times, Harry starts combining attacks to try to get one through. Prince is canny, however, and everything Harry throws at him, he twists somehow and returns. The attack that finally knocks Harry on his arse is a combination of a Slicing Hex and a Bombarding spell, and as Harry goes flying, hitting the wall, Prince lowers his wand and approaches.

“How did I win?” he asks, extending a hand to Harry, who accepts it. A jolt of awareness comes with Prince’s touch, but as Harry stands, Prince releases him quickly, giving no evidence that he felt anything.

Panting, Harry shakes his head, trying to clear it. “I don’t...You’re too fast, too quick for me. And your wand motions--”

Prince raises an eyebrow. “We’re in a dream. Do you think my being fast in here has anything to do with my muscles or how quick my wand movements are?” He smirks. “Now come on. Show me what you can really do. Concentrate.”

They face off again, Harry’s eyes narrowed in concentration. As Harry stares, there is a sense of light around Prince, of swirling energies. Relaxing, Harry sees a flare and, acting on instinct, blocks an attack he barely saw coming. Prince follows up immediately, of course, but Harry sees that spell coming, too.

Soon, he has Prince on the defensive, firing hex after hex at him, taking advantage of every crack in his shield, until it’s Prince who is against the wall, Harry with his wand at his throat. Blinking, Harry backs away. “I’m sorry, I--”

Prince shakes his head, eyes narrowed, yet Harry senses he’s not truly upset. In fact, if anything, he looks almost...triumphant. “Never apologise for achieving your potential. Dumbledore said you could do this, and while I wasn’t sure I believed him at first, perhaps I do now.”

Harry smiles, sensing that Prince is a difficult man to impress.

“Anyway, this is just the beginning of what you can do once you put your mind over matter.” Prince holsters his wand. “That was...acceptable. End session.”

When he opens his eyes back in the real world, he sees everyone’s in the room, even Molly. They are clustered around what looks like a giant crystal ball, and have all clearly been watching him duel Prince. Several of them are casting speculative looks at him. “...neural kinetics are much higher than normal,” Cerebro is saying, sounding excited. “And look how the magic warps around him--”

Harry’s view of the gathered people is blocked as Prince bends over him, his expression unreadable as he unhooks him from his tendrils.

As he’s helped up, Harry winces, his body sore, aching. “I thought it was all supposed to be a dream?” he mutters as Prince supports him.

“Your mind makes it real,” says Prince.

Harry ponders this as the others continue their huddled whispering. “So if you die in the Dreaming--”

“You die here, too.” Prince’s expression is sombre. “The body can’t survive without the mind.”

Glancing up, Harry sees Dumbledore at the door. Dumbledore winks once before leaving.

After a huge meal, which Harry polishes off in record time, he limps back to his room, where he collapses to sleep. When he does open his eyes it’s dark, and he hears raised voices coming through the door.

“...guess he really must be special. I don’t remember you bringing me dinner when I first got here.”

“You did not require it, Theo. He worked himself into exhaustion today. You never did that.”

Harry relaxes when he recognises Prince’s voice. The other person, Spider, or Theo, makes him nervous with his hostile stares. I’m not sure what I ever did to him, thinks Harry. But he doesn’t like me. He yawns. But nothing will happen with Prince here. He’ll protect me. He blinks, wondering how he knows that.

“...thought we were special to you, but now that he’s here, you ignore us. We’re your Slytherins.”

“He needs my help. And he’s the one who going to free us all.”

“So that means you’re just going to ignore the rest of us? Dumbledore made you our mentor.”

“Theo--”

There’s silence, then Prince, sounding shaken. “That was not appropriate.”

“I bet it would’ve been fine if he’d done it!” Theo sounds breathless, angry. “You’re telling me that if your precious Chosen One kissed you like I just did, you’d push him away, too?”

Harry sits up, eyes wide.

Prince’s voice is so soft that Harry has to crane to hear. “That’s never going to happen. He doesn’t feel that way. And even if he did--”

“You watch him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Theo growls. “I know that look because I feel that way about you, too. Have for a long time--”

“Enough.” Prince sounds more like himself, self-possessed and calm. “This conversation is fruitless. Why don’t you go and do something useful, like help Draco strengthen the wards on this place?”

“Fine, but you’ll regret not taking me up on my offer, Severus. Mark my words.”

Harry is still staring at the door when Prince walks in. Upon seeing Harry awake, Prince sighs. “I apologise if we woke you,” he says, placing a tray of food on the bed. “And I’m sorry you had to hear all that.” He hesitates. “Theo is...young.”

“Was it true?” Harry blurts as Prince turns to go. “Was he right?”

Prince pauses on his way to the door. “Was what true?” he asks, tone even.

“Do you--Are you--” Harry licks his lips. “Would you like it if I kissed you?”

Prince seems to hesitate before he reaches for the door. “What I would or wouldn’t like is of no import. We are all united in our goal to end the Dreaming, and that’s what’s important. We hardly have time for...other pursuits.”

Harry moves slowly, sensing that Prince will bolt if he’s too brash. But they have a connection, he can feel it. “So you don’t care that I’d have no objections to kissing you?” he asks.

Prince’s back stiffens. “Wanting to do something and having no objections to it are different.”

Placing a hand on Prince’s shoulder, Harry turns him around so that he’s facing him. “Does it seem to you as if I don’t want to?” he whispers.

Prince’s eyes glitter as Harry presses closer, but he doesn’t object. Not even when Harry moulds his body to Prince’s and leans in. “You’re playing with fire.”

Harry smiles. “I’ve done that all my life.” He pauses. “Well, all that I can remember of my life. Why change things now?”

When their lips touch, Harry feels it all the way to his toes, and Prince’s moan tells him he’s having a similar reaction. Pressing closer, he’s rewarded by Prince’s mouth opening, their tongues sliding together, Prince’s arms coming around Harry to drag him even closer. It’s a while before they part. Harry leans his forehead against Prince’s and pants, catching his breath.

“This cannot work,” says Prince, his words belied by the way his arms tighten around Harry. “There are things of which you are unaware.”

“Like what?” When Prince remains silent, Harry exhales. “This feels like it’s working to me,” he says. Drawing back, he tries to pull Prince towards the bed. “Although I think it would work better if we were over there.”

“No.” Prince releases him, moving back. His eyes are hooded, his expression closed. “You only believe you’re attracted to me because I rescued you.”

“Dumbledore rescued me, too.” Harry laughs. “Trust me, I’m not attracted to him.”

Prince rolls his eyes.

“Dumbledore also said we knew each other before.” Harry chews his bottom lip. “Were we...close before?”

Prince’s laugh is bitter. “No. We were...well I suppose the best way to put it is enemies.”

Harry shakes his head, clasping Prince’s arm. “I don’t believe it. I’ll never believe it.”

“You should. You must.” Gently, Prince reclaims his arm, backing away. “Eat. And rest. You’ve assimilated a lot today, let that all settle in your mind before you make any...pronouncements you may regret.”

As he turns away, Harry says, “There’s something between us, Prince. I can feel it, and I’m not giving up on it.”

Prince bows his head. “You may not feel that way when you regain your memories,” he says before leaving.

The next few days are spent duelling with everyone from Dumbledore to Cerebro, whose real name is Hermione, to even Molly, who proves a very tough opponent. Harry eventually bests them all, however. The one person he never gets to duel again is Prince, who, since their kiss, seems to be avoiding him.

Dumbledore continues orienting him to the way the Dreaming works, taking him into virtual reality at least daily, if not twice a day. “One thing it’s important to remember, Harry, is that anyone in authority in the Dreaming is probably a Death Eater or one of their Muggle minions.”

“Muggle minions?”

“Yes.” They are in the mini-Dream and Dumbledore gestures to a policeman, who glares at them suspiciously. “It seems that Riddle and his followers have discovered a use for Muggles after all. They no longer just kill them, some of them they corrupt, mark as their own. It allows them access to their thoughts and memories, and even control over their bodies. This means that if you find yourself caught by Muggle police or military, they can quickly summon or morph into a Death Eater, or even Riddle himself. You should avoid that at all costs, do you understand?”

Harry nods. “Yes.”

“Good.” Dumbledore smiles. “Now, let me tell you about Transfiguration--”

One morning when he goes down for his daily session, he finds Theo whispering with Ron. “...then why hasn’t he taken him to see the Oracle yet?” Harry hears Theo say.

“Phoenix will take him when the time’s right.” Looking up, Ron coughs when he sees Harry, his expression vaguely guilty. “Hey, Harry!” he says, moving away from Theo. “Just setting up for you.”

Theo grumbles something before pushing past Harry to leave.

“What was all that about?” Harry asks as Ron prepares his crystal.

Ron sighs. “Theo’s just weird,” he finally says.

“I thought you two were friends?”

Ron ducks his head. “Nah, not really.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve this phobia about spiders, so anyone who wants to be named after them is weirdo in my book.”

Harry laughs and the mood lightens.

Ron hooks him to a tendril. “Anyway, today’s lesson is going to be you learning how to fly.”

Eyebrow raised, Harry says, “Fly? Me?”

“After all you’ve seen, you don’t believe?” Ron grins. “You’ll see,” he promises, wand raised. “Now hang on to your pants.”

Since Ron had already given him knowledge of the basics of Quidditch, Harry expects there will be a broom in the mini-Dream, but when he gets there he seems to be alone with no equipment. “What’s going on?” he asks, knowing Ron can hear him.

“This is my lesson,” says Prince.

Harry spins, facing him. “Prince. You’re back.” He blinks. “Your lesson?”

Prince inclines his head. “I have some passing knowledge of flight, yes,” he says, his voice heavy with irony.

Harry’s eyes narrow. “Where have you been?”

“Why do you ask?” Prince’s lips twist. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” Harry regards him warily. “So where were you?”

Prince smirks. “On an errand for Dumbledore.” Looking up, he says. “Load the jump program, Ronald.”

Looking around wildly, Harry sees the world change around them until they appear to be standing on the roof of a skyscraper. Below them appear to be cars and people.

“I understand you believe you’re afraid of heights,” Prince says, tone silky.

Harry’s eyes narrow. “I am afraid of heights. Why do none of you people believe me?”

Pursing his lips, Prince turns and, without preamble, jumps off the edge of the roof. Harry’s mouth drops open as Prince seems to float in the air before landing unharmed on the roof of the next building. “Fear is allowing appearances to fool you. Overcoming fear is merely mind over matter,” he calls to Harry. “Both here and in the Dreaming.”

Walking over to the edge of the roof, Harry looks down, blanching at the distance. “Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Right. Bloody hell,” he mutters.

“Come along, Harry.” Prince’s voice is mocking. “We haven’t got all day to spend on this, you know.”

“Right,” Harry sighs, doing a couple of practice jumps up and down. “Mind over matter. I can totally do that--” And before he can overthink it, he runs to the edge of the building and tries to jump towards where Prince is watching and waiting. For a moment he seems to hang suspended in the air and then... “Argh!”

Harry falls, arms outstretched. When he hits the ground he expects pain, and it does hurt, but not as much as it should. He bounces once and then hits the suddenly solid ground with a groan.

Opening his eyes, he stares up into Ron’s face. Wincing, he shifts in his chair. “Ow.”

Prince sits up and, disconnecting himself by waving his wand, approaches Harry. “No one ever succeeds the first time,” he says. “Apparently not even you.”

Harry sits up, grimacing as the movement causes him pain. “Ugh, I really need to master this mind over matter business.”

“Indeed,” says Prince. “Take a moment to rest and then we shall try it again. We’ll keep at it until you master it.”

Something in his tone makes Harry blink. “Why?”

“Because you need to master this skill quickly.”

“Why?” repeats Harry.

Prince regards him for a moment. “Because Dumbledore believes you will require it, and once you master it, he plans to take you to see the Oracle.”

Catching Harry’s eye, Ron nods. “Right, let’s make this happen, then, mate.”

Harry masters the jump after a few more tries, but by that evening he has still not learned how to fly without benefit of a broom. “You seem to have some sort of mental block,” says Prince, turning away to fiddle with his tendril. “It appears building jumping will have to suffice.”

Ron rolls his eyes. “Well, I think that was a great session,” he says, waving his wand over his crystal ball to shut it down. He slaps Harry’s shoulder as he walks past. “You were brilliant. See you at supper.”

They are alone, and Harry can’t resist walking up behind Prince, sliding an arm about his waist. When Prince doesn’t shift away, Harry rests his face on Prince’s shoulder. “Where were you?” he whispers.

Prince sighs. “If you must know, I went to see the Oracle.”

“Oh.” Harry frowns. “I thought you’d seen her before.”

“I have. I had some...additional questions about certain things she told me.”

“Things?” Harry raises his head. “Things as in me?”

“Not everything in life is about you.” Prince snorts. “Your ego certainly hasn’t suffered as a result of being in the Dreaming.”

Harry smiles. “And now I know it was about me. Tell me.”

“No.” Prince moves, but the movement brings him into closer contact with Harry, who takes advantage by pressing against him. “Harry--”

“If you really aren’t interested I’ll leave you alone,” says Harry, voice low. “But I think you are. Look at me and tell me you don’t want me.”

Prince turns to face Harry, his eyes glittering dangerously. “You are infuriating.”

Harry smiles. “That still doesn’t sound as if you’re not interested. In fact, that sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not.”

Prince huffs. “If I were to ask her about you, it would be to ask if your...attempt at seduction was because of obligation.”

“And what do you think she would say?”

“She would tell me to trust my own instincts.” Prince rolls his eyes. “Which is why I would never bother, really. She’s as ridiculous and infuriating as you are--”

Harry seals their lips together, moaning into Prince’s mouth as he gathers Harry to him, kissing him breathless. The kiss quickly escalates to frantic until Harry is rocking against Prince, seeking friction. Prince is with him all the way, too, his hands settling on Harry’s hips to keep them still as he grinds against him.

It’s sublime. Despite the fact that anyone could walk in at any time, and that they are still fully clothed, it’s probably some of the best sex Harry can remember, and when his body seizes up and he shudders through his orgasm, Prince is right there with him, his arms cradling Harry, his face pressed into Harry’s neck as they tremble together.

When Harry finally pulls back to stare into Prince’s face, he smiles. Prince is panting, and he looks as wrecked as Harry feels. After a long, searching look, he leans in, kissing Harry. “This won’t continue,” he says. “It can’t. There are things you should know, but I’m too,” he closes his eyes, “...too cowardly to tell you.”

“There’s no way you’re a coward.” Harry shakes his head. “Is it about our past history?” He sighs when he sees Prince’s expression close. “I don’t care what happened before. The only thing that matters is what we do from now on.”

Reaching up, Prince smoothes down Harry’s hair. “We need to go to supper,” he says. Setting Harry away from him, he sighs. “And only time will tell what happens in the future.”

They walk to the door, and as they exit the mini-Dream room side by side, Harry sees Theo watching them narrowly. Harry nods. “Yeah, it will.”

After two more days of rigorous practice, and Harry cornering Prince at every opportunity, Dumbledore declares Harry ready, and they wake early to go into the Dreaming to see the Oracle.

To Harry’s surprise, Theo volunteers to go with them. Prince is clearly taken aback, too, since Harry sees him pull Theo aside to talk to him. Whatever Theo says to him, however, seems to reassure him.

As they all gather in the room and get hooked to their respective tendrils, Harry notes that Prince’s chair is next to his and he smiles.

“Right,” says Ron as their tendrils are connected. “Buckle up, everyone. Please relax and enjoy your trip, and thanks for travelling Air Weasley.” Within seconds, they are transported, each one emerging from a large fireplace.

As the last one in, Harry looks around, noting that they appear to be in an abandoned warehouse. Draco and Pansy immediately move to the doors, wands drawn. Hermione, who also insisted on coming, murmurs something to Dumbledore, who nods. “Draco, Pansy and Theo will stay here, while Severus, Hermione and I accompany Harry to see the Oracle.”

“I thought I was going to the Oracle, too,” says Theo, frowning.

“I’d prefer you stay,” says Dumbledore. “You’d be a big help maintaining security at this location.”

Theo huffs, but nods his agreement, and as Harry moves past him, he whispers, “Good luck, Harry. I hope she gives you some good news.”

Harry stares at him, but Theo just smirks and moves away.

“Come,” says Dumbledore. “We don’t want to be here too long.”

They are in the same car that Prince picked Harry up in before, and the drive to the Oracle is surreal. Harry looks out the window and sees his old haunts, sees where he used to meet friends for lunch, where he used to hang out when not at his computer searching for answers. It feels like a lifetime ago. “Wow,” he mutters.

“What is it?” asks Prince, seated beside him.

“It’s just--” Harry shakes his head. “I used to eat at that curry place. And that was my favourite movie theatre. I have all these memories of a life, and it turns out they weren’t real. What does that mean?”

“It means that the Dreaming cannot tell you who you are. And who’s to say your memories aren’t real? They were real to you,” says Prince. “That makes them real enough.”

Harry turns to face him. “You said you went to the Oracle before, right?”

Prince nods.

Being careful to keep his voice low, Harry says, “What did she tell you the first time you saw her?”

And for the first time since he’s met him, Prince hesitates. “She told me--”

Harry leans in, waiting for the answer. “Yes?” he whispers, trying to be encouraging. “What?”

Prince licks his lips, clearly uncomfortable.

“We’re here.” Dumbledore’s voice is intrusive, and Harry’s almost irritated at the interruption. “Come on, Harry.”

“I’ll guard the car,” says Prince, once more looking his inscrutable self.

Inside the building it’s dank, and smells faintly of piss. There’s graffiti on the walls and a man with dirty blond hair, wearing dark sunglasses, is sitting on a bench just inside the door. He’s staring straight ahead and in his arms is a potted plant. As Dumbledore moves past him, he nods politely, and the man, confirming Harry’s instincts that he isn’t truly blind, nods back. His plant seems to move as well, but when Harry stares at it, it stops.

Hermione stands by the lift, clearly on guard, as Dumbledore presses the button, and, when it comes, they all three get in. When they step into the lift and the door closes, Harry bites his lip. “What’s she going to tell me?” he asks.

Dumbledore smiles. “She would say she’s going to tell you what you need to hear.”

The lift rumbles to a stop, opening up to a nondescript hallway. Hermione waits by the lift while Dumbledore leads Harry to a door with a radish graffiti-painted on the front. He raises his hand to knock, but it opens before he can do so, a woman standing there. She smiles. “Hello, Harry. Hello, Albus.”

“Andromeda.” Dumbledore bows over her hand. “You look as ravishing as ever.”

Andromeda inclines her head. “And you’re still such the flatterer.” Turning to Harry, she says, “It’s good to see you, Harry.”

Harry nods. “Erm, thanks. Good to see you, too. Are you the Oracle?”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, gesturing them inside. “Dear me, no. I just make sure everyone sleeps and eats around here.” Tucking her hand into Dumbledore’s arm, she leads him away. “Wait here, Harry. I’ll come to fetch you shortly.” She points to another room. “Go on in there. Teddy will keep you company.”

Harry frowns. “Who’s--?” But they have already left him, so, with a sigh, he goes towards the room Andromeda indicated. Inside he finds what looks like a playroom with toys strewn about, and a boy who looks about nine or ten, playing. He has shockingly blue hair, which turns brown when he looks up and sees Harry standing there.

“Are you Harry?” the boy asks.

Harry nods. “I am. And what’s your name?”

The boy bites his lip. “I’m not supposed to say the real one here,” he says. “The Oracle says it’s dangerous to do that.”

“Okay.” Kneeling so that he’s eye to eye with the boy, Harry smiles. “You don’t have to tell me, then.”

The boy shrugs, clearly deciding Harry is safe. “My name’s Teddy,” he confides. “But I’m supposed to say it’s Tonka.”

“Tonka?” Harry shakes his head. “As in the toy?”

Teddy nods. “They’re my favourite. You’re supposed to pick something you like as your name, and my mummy’s name was Tonks, so I think it’s cool. Like a mix of her name and my favourite toy.”

“That’s very clever.” Harry smiles, charmed.

“Thanks.” Teddy picks up a small truck, showing it to Harry. His hair turns purple. “This one’s my very favourite.”

“I see.” Stretching out his hand, Harry waits as Teddy hands it over. He examines it, passing it back. “You’re a pretty smart kid.”

“Yeah.” Teddy makes a face, his hair turning brown again.

“What?” Harry asks, sitting back on his haunches. “What’s wrong?”

Teddy looks up at Harry through his eyelashes. “Whenever people say that they want me to do stuff.”

“Do stuff?”

Teddy waves his hand and another truck sails towards him. He catches it easily. “Like magic stuff.”

Harry blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “you are very good at it.”

Teddy shrugs again. “Not really. I just try not to forget the rule.”

“What rule?”

“That there is no truck.” Teddy tosses the truck into the air and it disappears.

Harry raises an eyebrow, but before he can say anything to that, Andromeda is back. Dumbledore isn’t with her. “The Oracle will see you now,” she says. “Are you being a good boy, Teddy?”

Teddy nods, his hair shifting into lavender.

“He’s an interesting boy,” says Harry as they leave the room. “Very smart.”

“He’s my grandson.” Andromeda slants a look at him. “And he’s sort of related to you, too. He’s--” She hesitates. “Well, the Oracle will show you. Come.”

They pass through several rooms until they get to a kitchen. Harry can smell biscuits baking and his mouth waters. Andromeda gestures. “Go through there. And good luck, Harry.”

After watching her leave, Harry exhales, walking through the door and into a cluttered kitchen. On the table he sees several glass jars of radishes. A tiny blonde woman is bent over, pulling something out of the oven. When she turns to face him, Harry gets the impression of large, watery blue eyes before she adjusts wild pink glasses that obscure them. “Oh! Hello, Harry!”

“Hello.” Harry watches bemused as she places a tray of biscuits onto the counter before approaching him.

When she gets within touching distance, she tilts her head, looking him over as if considering a particularly vexing problem. “Wrackspurts,” she finally says, as if it means something. “Of course.”

Harry blinks. “Erm, excuse me?”

Reaching up, she pats his face. “I’m sure this all seems very confusing, Harry. But it will soon be clear.” She smiles. “Well, clearer.”

He eyes her for a long moment. She’s odd, but his first instinct is that he likes her. He smiles. “It is rather confusing.”

She smiles back. “I’m Luna and we knew each other before. When the Dreaming happened I fell asleep like everyone else.” She pauses. “Well, like almost everyone else. But I was only under for a few days before I woke up.”

“How’d you manage that?” asks Harry, fascinated.

“I don’t know. A possible theory is that I’m in such close touch with my subconscious mind that it woke me, but I can’t be sure.” She leans in to whisper. “Honestly, I really think it was the Nargles who did it. They really hate to be ignored, and I’m the only one who pays them any attention.”

Harry blinks. “The...Nargles?”

Luna moves away. “Oh, we’ll get to that,” she says. “First, I’m supposed to act all mysterious and Seer-like.”

You’re doing a really good job, Harry thinks. “Okay.” Having trouble keeping up, Harry looks around for a chair. “Do you mind if I--?”

“Oh, not at all.” Luna hums tunelessly. “And never mind the radishes. I can make more.”

“Radishes?” Harry tries to back away from them, but a slippery spot on the floor makes him lose his balance and, in grabbing the counter to save himself, he topples several jars of radishes onto the floor, where they break, spraying liquid all over the baseboards and his shoes. “Shit!” His eyes widen as he realises he’s cursed in front of the Oracle. Is that against the rules? “Oh fu--I mean...I’m sorry!”

Luna whips out a wand, calmly levitating the entire mess into the bin. She doesn’t look at all upset with his language. “I said it’s all right.” She smiles. “By the way, you’re going to wonder later if I planned that. I didn’t, but you can think I did if it will make you feel better.”

Harry blinks, trying to imagine Prince with this girl, and he can’t help it, he laughs at the thought.

Luna tilts her head again, studying him. “You have a lovely laugh. I’ve always thought so. He thinks so, too, you know, although he’d never feel comfortable telling you that. He’s always been a serious man. He could have done well in Ravenclaw.”

Sobering, Harry frowns. “Who?”

She hums. “Not you, though. You’re clearly a Gryffindor, through and through.”

Harry wonders if he’s been insulted. “Aren’t you supposed to--?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to give you back your memories. Well, not give them back exactly, since they really haven’t really gone anywhere, I’m just supposed to...help you access them.”

“Okay.”

“Sit.” She gestures to the cooling biscuits. “I made these just for you.”

Harry shakes his head. “Do we have time? Shouldn’t we just get on with it?”

Luna hands him a plate with two biscuits on it. “Ah, but they are magic biscuits,” she says. “Go on. Eat them.”

Taking a nibble of one, Harry’s eyes widen. “Lovegood,” he says, staring at her. “You’re Luna Lovegood!”

She nods. “A good start, Harry,” she says, tone encouraging. “And you’re Harry Potter.”

Harry shakes his head. “My name is Evans.” He frowns. “At least I thought it was.”

“You thought it was because that’s the name your subconscious chose to hide behind. It was a protection, and a good one at that. It was your mum’s name.” She hums as she continues fiddling with something on the stove. “That was smart. It’s possible the name Potter would have made Riddle recall you sooner.” Walking over to the refrigerator, Luna opens it, pulling out a carton. “You’ll be thirsty in a minute. Keep eating.”

Harry does, finally closing his eyes as memories he doesn’t even recognise flood his mind. It’s confusing, his two lives, and it takes a moment for them all to settle in his head, for him to sort through them, although there are some odd blank spots. Recalling his formative years, Harry wonders where his aunt and uncle are, and his cousin. Are they Dreaming somewhere, too?

Luna is still moving around the kitchen, but Harry isn’t paying attention, his focus is all inward as the memories continue to arrange themselves in his mind. Memories of his friendship with Hermione and Ron, of Sirius dying, of Cedric, of so many people. He recalls being in Prince’s classes, only it’s not Prince, exactly, not the man he’s fallen in love with, it’s some cruel and sadistic doppelganger. Only it is him.

Harry drops his head in his hands. Fallen in love with? He bites back a groan. What the hell is he supposed to do now? He wonders if Prince really cares about him, or if it’s all been some sort of cruel joke. He shivers as he thinks that Prince may just have been mocking him all this time, or worse, just using him. He recalls Dumbledore’s ruthlessness, and wonders if he told Snape to seduce him for reasons of his own.

Finally, he opens his eyes to find Luna holding out a glass. He blinks. “What’s that?”

“Pumpkin juice,” she says. “I’ve been saving it just for you. I knew you’d need it.”

Harry drinks, and the flavour is so familiar, so soothing, it makes him choke up for a moment. He finishes the glass and, setting it down, sighs.

Luna squeezes his shoulder and pours him another. “Would you like a moment?”

Sipping the juice, Harry shakes his head. “I don’t have time, do I? I have to get everyone back to the Burrow and then look for Riddle’s body.” He blinks. “That is what I’m supposed to do, right?”

“Yes.” Luna sighs. “Just...take care of Snape, will you?”

“Take care of him? Harry snorts. “He’s Snape. What could possibly hurt him?”

She smiles. “I think you’d be surprised.”

Harry shakes his head, staring into his glass of juice, thoughts swirling.

“I’m serious.” Luna leans in, her expression earnest. Her glasses slip down her nose and Harry catches a glimpse of her eyes. “He’s going to be in grave danger unless you save him. It’s all up to you, Harry.”

Harry stares at her for a long moment. “Can I ask you something?”

Luna nods. “Of course you can, Harry.”

“Did he come to see you a few days ago?” At her nod, Harry continues, “He came to ask you about me, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“What did he ask?”

Luna smiles. “I never divulge what I discuss with someone to someone else, Harry. But I will say that he was very concerned about your sincerity.”

Harry sighs. “I practically threw myself him. He must have been laughing so hard--”

“I doubt it.” Luna stands. “Have you ever known Snape to laugh at anything? He’s not known for his sense of humour.”

Harry blinks. She’s right about that...“I suppose not--”

“Now, enough of this. You really need to go.”

Nodding, Harry starts for the door, but pauses. “You should come with us,” he says. “You’d be safer.”

“Oh, there’s no place safe for me now,” says Luna, tone matter-of-fact. “Especially not now that you have your memories back.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because Riddle’s linked to you, Harry. And now that you’re remembering your life, he’s remembering his, too. Pretty soon, he’s going to realise how you regained your memories, and he’s going to come looking for me.”

Harry gapes at her. “Then you have to come with us.”

“That would just delay the inevitable.”

“You can’t just give up!”

“I’m not. I’m just being practical.”

Harry swallows hard. “Have you...seen your own death?”

“Oh, no.” Luna smiles. “Now that you’ve regained your memories I’ve lost the Sight. But I knew this day was coming and I made preparations. Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll be all right, it’s just a bad idea for me to come with you now. Oh, and you need to find his body quickly.”

“Riddle’s you mean?”

“Yes. Waking him up by disconnecting him from the tendrils is the only way to end the Dreaming. And make sure you use his wand to do it.”

“His wand?” Harry sighs. Of course. “And where do I find that?”

“Oh, it’s probably with his body.”

“Okay. And where’s his body?”

She smiles serenely. “I have no idea, but if you follow the Wrackspurts they should lead you right to him.”

It’s such a Luna answer that Harry can only stare at her for a moment before striding towards her and giving her a fierce hug. “I missed you,” he says thickly.

Luna pats his hair. “I know. Now go on. You have to leave now.”

Drawing back, Harry nods, then his eyes widen. “Teddy--!”

“He and Andromeda are safe. They left a while ago, actually.” Picking up her one remaining jar of radishes, Luna slips them into a pocket. “See you, Harry.” And with that, she walks through a door Harry hadn’t previously noticed and is gone.

When Harry gets back out to the hallway, Dumbledore is waiting, Hermione beside him. Harry’s throat once again seizes with emotion when he sees them. Of course, Dumbledore immediately knows what’s happening. “Harry, my boy,” he says, opening his arms in welcome. “It’s good to finally have you back.”

Hermione waits her turn, hugging him fiercely when Dumbledore releases him. “It was so hard not to say anything,” she whispers into his ear. “But Luna said I’d know when it was okay to say something.” She sobs. “I missed you so much!”

Harry nods and hugs her closer. “I know. And I understand.” He closes his eyes. “I missed you, too.”

Dumbledore clears his throat. “I hate to interrupt, children, but we really must go.”

Pulling away from Hermione, Harry nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. Luna told me that as soon as I got my memories back, Riddle would get his as well. He’s probably on his way here now.”

“Right. Come on, then,” says Hermione, wand drawn, face set. “Let’s get back to the warehouse.”

They crowd into the lift, and Hermione clasps his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. Harry smiles. He can’t wait to see Ron again now that he knows. No matter what, he has his best friends back, and that’s worth almost anything.

“We’ll have to hurry,” says Dumbledore, eyes narrowed as he looks around. It’s almost as if he sees things Harry and Hermione can’t. Perhaps he can. Harry hides a smile. Some things never change.

But as the lift trundles to a stop, Harry’s elation fades. While some things haven’t changed, some have. Snape’s out there, Harry thinks. Everything between us will be different now.

The door opens and they find the lobby’s empty. “The blind guard’s gone,” Harry said. Then, his memory clicks. “Neville!”

Dumbledore nods. “Yes, he’s guarded Luna from the beginning. I suspect he left when she did. Now come.” Leading the way, he hurries out, Harry and Hermione behind him. Outside, Harry sees Snape standing by the car, looking remote and unapproachable. Passers-by are clearly avoiding him.

“We have to hurry,” says Dumbledore.

Nodding, Hermione slips into the driver’s seat, Dumbledore moving towards the front passenger door. Sighing, Harry slides into the back alongside Snape, who immediately turns to face him. As he stares into Snape’s face, he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t need to say a word, Snape immediately knows.

“You got your memories back.” It’s as if a shutter falls over his face. His lips twist. “Welcome back, Potter.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “Snape. We should talk--”

“Not here and not now,” says Snape, turning his body so he’s facing forward. “Later.”

“Snape--” Harry grasps his arm, but Snape shakes off his hand.

“I said later,” he hisses.

With a sigh, Harry leans back against the seat, staring blindly out the window as the shops whiz by.

It doesn’t take them long to return to the warehouse, and, as Hermione pulls the car up, Harry frowns. Something feels off, but Dumbledore’s in a hurry, and Snape is non-communicative, so he follows them inside.

Draco and Pansy are there, chatting together, and as they walk in, the two of them stare at Harry. “Potter?” says Draco. “Is it you?”

Harry smiles faintly. “Malfoy.” He glances at Pansy. “Parkinson.”

Slowly, Malfoy smirks. “At last. It’s about time you got back. Now, are you ready to kick the Dark Lord’s arse or what?”

Surprised, Harry laughs. “I’m certainly going to try.”

“We need to go,” says Snape, interrupting. “Where’s Theo?”

Draco frowns. “He was just here. Want me to find him?”

“I’ll do it,” says Pansy. “I’m pretty sure I spotted him out back earlier.”

“Just be quick about it.” Snape turns away, starting to pull out Floo powder. “We don’t want any interruptions as we try to get back.”

“Right.” Pansy shoots Draco a quizzical look, in response to which he shrugs.

“Go on,” Draco says, shooing her out. “Go find Theo.” And when she’s out of earshot, he turns to Harry. “Did something happen on the way to see the Orac--Lovegood? Severus is in a really bad mood.”

Harry sighs. “That’s probably my fault,” he admits, eyeing Snape’s back, which is stiff, his posture screaming ‘stay away’.

Draco glares at Harry. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did anything?” Draco raises an eyebrow and Harry sighs. “Fine, maybe I did.” Harry hesitates. “I don’t know how much you know about our relationship lately, but--”

Draco rolls his eyes. “You’ve been snogging each other every spare second you get!” As Harry blinks at him, he snorts. “I’d have to be blind not to notice, Potter. I see how you look at each other.” Draco crosses his arms. “So what did you do?”

Harry huffs. “It wasn’t all me! You have to admit that this situation is weird. I didn’t even remember that I knew him before until today, and then Luna gave my back my memories and everything changed--”

“And you remembered how things used to be between you.” Draco’s eyes narrow.

Miserable, Harry nods. “It’s just difficult to reconcile how we were before to how we have been recently. I’m having trouble telling if what we had the past couple of weeks was real or not.” He leaned against the counter. “Snape said he wasn’t sure we could work, and now--”

Draco snorts. “So basically he’s been telling you all along that you’d hate him when you got your memories back, and now you do.” He shakes his head. “And now I imagine he’s pissed at himself for believing things could be different between you. Honestly? I’d hex you myself if we didn’t need you.”

“Draco.” Snape still has his back turned to them. “Enough.”

Harry blinks. “I don’t hate him. I’m just...it’s difficult, okay? We went from practically being lovers to...whatever we are now.”

“What we are now, Potter, is nothing.” Snape’s tone is cold. “Draco? Gather the others. We’re ready.”

There’s a scream and Snape spins, eyes narrowed. “That was Pansy.”

As Draco races to the door, flinging it open, green flames flare in the fireplace, Ron’s voice coming through. “It’s a trap! You’re surrounded by Death Eaters! Get out!”

Dumbledore, who has been speaking quietly to Hermione, looks up. “Draco, get away from the door!”

“But Pansy’s out there!” Draco tries to go outside but Snape is there, pulling him back, closing the door. There’s another sharp scream which is abruptly cut off. Draco is cursing, struggling to try to escape Snape’s grasp.

Harry leans down, peering through the keyhole. It’s a nightmare. Pansy’s still body lies on the ground, a masked Death Eater pointing a wand at her. Theo is there, his arms pinned behind his back, another Death Eater with a wand at his throat. “We really are surrounded,” he says.

Snape mutters a word that’s clearly a curse. Dumbledore looks surprised. “I had no idea you spoke Gobbledegook, Severus.” He sighs. “And yes, you are essentially accurate.”

Harry continues scanning, seeing Death Eaters whose names he now recalls. Dolohov, the Lestrange brothers, the Carrows, even Bellatrix. And of course, standing in the front, the self same smirk on his face that Harry recalls from their last encounter, is Riddle.

“Mr Evans,” he drawls, his tone setting Harry’s teeth on edge. “I think you’ve not been honest with us.”

“Ronald,” snaps Dumbledore towards the fireplace. “We need to start moving people out. Come, Draco.”

“I can’t!” Ron’s voice is fading in and out. “They’re doing something to the signal. It’s not stable. I can’t seem to get a fix on--” His voice cuts off and the flames are abruptly extinguished. Dumbledore and Snape look at each other, expressions grim. Hermione has her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“How can they block the Floo?” asks Harry.

As if in answer, dust emerges from the fireplace.

“They collapsed it from outside,” says Draco. “Fuck.”

“Shouldn’t it still work, though?” says Harry.

“No. They severed the connection.” At Harry’s blank stare, Hermione says, “The only reason we can project ourselves here at all is because there are certain places where magic is more concentrated and fireplaces are already hard-wired to the Floo Network. That’s why we can send our consciousnesses to these locations. But the magic has to be strong enough to support the signal in order to bring us back. This Floo is gone, and if we can’t find another place with enough magic and a Floo--”

“Let me guess,” says Harry. “We’re trapped in the Dreaming?” He shakes his head. “No. There has to be a way out. What about Apparating?”

“Anti-Apparation spells are already up,” says Hermione. “I tried.”

“We could separate,” says Snape. “That way we’d have a better chance of getting out and making it to another location with a working Floo.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a map. “This building has a basement that connects to the basements of the other warehouses around us. If we can get down there we can break through a wall, give them the slip.”

“And how do we find a location with a working Floo?” asks Harry.

Dumbledore smiles. “And now you know why you were all issued mobile phones. As we speak, I’m sure Ronald is scouring his map, trying to find us locations where there’s a Floo hard-wired to the system so that we can get out.” He glances at Snape. “We’ll only separate if forced, however.”

There is a boom that shakes the building, and plaster from the walls starts to fall.

“They’re trying to break in,” says Hermione.

“You don’t say?” drawls Draco, rolling his eyes.

“Basement,” snaps Snape. “Now!”

“But they still have Pansy and Theo,” says Draco. “We can’t just leave them--”

“If we can get behind them and Stun them, we can perhaps recover them,” says Snape as they hurry down the stairs. “But a frontal attack is suicide.”

The basement is filthy, but no one worries about that. Dumbledore and Hermione start blasting away at the walls while, upstairs, Harry hears a loud crash.

“They’re in,” says Draco. “Hurry!”

“Follow me, Harry.” Dumbledore moves towards a hole they made in the wall. “I’ll be creeping around until I find a weak spot to break through into the next basement. Hermione and Draco will be right behind you, Severus behind them. Be as quiet as possible, everyone.”

Harry nods, bending down and slipping into the wall behind Dumbledore. He feels Hermione’s breath on his neck as he moves, hears the quiet scraping of their feet as they all shuffle into the tiny crawl space.

“Where are they?” comes Riddle’s familiar cold, high voice.

Harry freezes. Riddle sounds close, and it takes Hermione hissing quietly in his ear for Harry to keep moving. “Don’t stop!”

“Are you really going to abandon one of your company?” Riddle sounds mocking. “Poor Theo.”

There’s a shuffle and Harry hears Snape say, “Leave him alone. Take me instead.”

Harry stops to listen, the others freezing, too.

“Severus?” Riddle sounds surprised. “Well, well. I had no idea you were in league with the rebels. And how noble of you to sacrifice yourself.” There is cold laughter and the sound of a body hitting the ground. “It’s such a shame you’ve surrendered for nothing. Didn’t you know? Theo’s been helping me track your movements. Imagine my surprise when I discovered he wanted to return to my ranks.”

“No,” Harry whispers.

“Shh!” Hermione hisses.

“And where’s everyone else?” Riddle asks. “Theo has told me as much as he could about where your home base location is, but it’s not enough, I need to know more to be able to find it and finally destroy it.”

“Theo,” Snape says. “Why?”

“Because I loved you, but you chose him!” Theo shouts. “We could have been together--”

“Ah, a classic love triangle.” Riddle sounds amused, smug. Harry grits his teeth. “Well, I can make things simple. Avada Kedavra!”

“No!” Snape sounds anguished.

“I told him I’d rescue him from the bleakness of the real world, and now I have,” says Riddle coldly. “We have no use for betrayers in our camp and you shouldn’t in yours. Now, Severus, where are the others, and where is their base location?”

“I’ve nothing to say.”

“Then we’ll just have to extract the information, won’t we? I’m sure you’ve missed our little chats, I know I have.”

There are multiple Apparation cracks. Harry tries to stop, to turn back, but Hermione shoves him hard and he falls through into another filthy basement. “We have to go back!” he says, stumbling as he tries to get back into the wall.

“No.” Dumbledore grasps his arm. “It’s too late, Harry. They’re gone.”

“We need to save him!”

“What we need to do is get back to the Burrow and regroup!” says Hermione, grasping Harry’s shoulders and shaking him. “Think, Harry. They’re gone, but they’re still searching for us and they know we’re in the vicinity. We need to get back to safety.”

“No phone signal down here,” says Draco, staring at his mobile. “We have to get higher.”

“All right,” says Dumbledore. “Move carefully.”

They creep up the stairs, finding themselves in a similar warehouse, only this one doesn’t have a fireplace. Draco again checks his mobile phone signal. “Two bars,” he says. “Shall I try?”

“Quickly,” says Dumbledore, cracking open the door to look outside. “They can track the signal.”

Draco nods, punching in numbers and holding the mobile up to his face. “It’s us, Weasley. We need an exit.”

Even across the room, Harry can hear Ron’s voice. “What the bloody hell happened?!”

“They found us.” Draco’s tone is clipped. “Theo sold us out.”

“Fucking hell! That two-timing--”

“We don’t have time for that now,” snaps Draco. “Where’s the closest Floo?”

“Working on it.” Ron’s silent for a moment. “Got it! It’s about a mile away. An abandoned shop at the corner of Wildbash and Lake.”

“Is Snape alive?” asks Harry before Draco can hang up.

Draco’s eyes meet his. “Is Snape alive?” he repeats.

“Yeah.” Ron’s voice breaks for a moment. “But Pansy--”

“I know.” Draco closes his eyes. “We heard it happen.”

“I’m sorry.” Ron says. “But you should know, Mum’s planning on sealing the shields as quickly as she can. So hurry up and get your arses back here!”

“On it,” says Draco, severing the connection. “Right. You heard him.”

“Sealing the shields?” Harry says as they slip outside and hurry down an alleyway.

“If she seals them with us still in the Dreaming it permanently severs the connection,” says Hermione.

“And we die?”

“Yes.” Draco’s eyes are scanning constantly. “And I dunno about you lot, but I’ve no plans to die today.”

“I think we’re all agreed on that, Draco.” Dumbledore looks up at a street sign. “This way to Lake.”

By the time they break in to the shop Harry is panting, his adrenaline pumping. The fireplace is huge and as Hermione approaches it flares green. She turns to Harry. “You should go first, Harry.”

He shakes his head. “After you.”

Hermione smiles. “So you can take off after Snape? Not a chance. Now go on.”

Harry sighs. She always had known him too well. Once he enters the Floo, it’s mere seconds before he opens his eyes to see Ron’s anxious face above his. “Welcome back, mate.”

They hug, and by the time they separate, Dumbledore, Hermione, and Draco are also back, Draco draped over Pansy’s body sobbing silently.

Ron bites his lip. “We should go,” he whispers. “Leave them some privacy.”

By the time he emerges from the room minutes later, Draco’s face is set. Ginny, who’d hugged Harry the moment he walked out of the room and who has been sitting, chatting with him, Ron, and Hermione, leans over and murmurs something to Hermione. Hermione smiles and nods and Ginny, a determined look on her face, stands and goes to talk to Draco. Ron watches them go, a peculiar look on his face.

“What is it?” asks Harry.

Ron looks at Hermione, who smiles and nods. He sighs. “I always wondered.”

“Wondered what?” asks Harry, confused.

Ron shakes his head. “Never mind.” He straightens up when Dumbledore approaches. “Sir?”

“I fear the time has come to disconnect Severus,” Dumbledore says. “We’ve waited long enough.”

“What?” Harry goes cold. “But that will kill him!”

“It’s the only option.” Draco walks up behind them, Ginny beside him, and Harry blinks when he realises they are holding hands. “The Dark Lord has had almost an hour now to torture him,” Draco continues. “Severus is strong, he can resist for a while, but he’ll break eventually. Everyone does. And when that happens--”

“He’ll tell Riddle our location and the location of every other rebel stronghold. None of us stand a chance against a coordinated Death Eater attack.” Dumbledore sighs. “Molly has already generously allowed the shields to stay down in the event that Severus managed to escape, but we can’t ask her to risk her home any more than she already has.”

Harry stands. “I can’t accept that, though. I’m going back in to rescue Snape.”

“You can’t.” Dumbledore places a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If there was any chance I would allow it, but--”

“So we’ll stand by and let Riddle just kill him?” Harry shakes his head. “I can’t live with that. I don’t expect anyone else to go with me, but I’m going back to get him.” He turned to Ron. “You can tell where they’re holding him, right?”

Ron glances at Dumbledore before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Then just give me a chance, please?” Harry begs.

Dumbledore sighs. “It’s not reasonable to ask Molly to risk--”

“I’m willing to risk it for Harry, and for Severus,” Molly says, walking in. “And we could always evacuate. If it saves Severus, I’ll give up my home.” She gives Harry a wobbly smile. “And I know you’ll find Riddle and end this, Harry.”

Harry squares his shoulders. “I’ll do my best, Mrs Weasley.”

“We’ll need a new location from which to hack into the Dreaming just in case,” says Dumbledore, lips pursed in thought. “And time to set up another room with tendrils.”

“What about the old Order headquarters? You know, Grimmauld Place?” Harry pauses as everyone turns to stare at him. “What?”

“You mean to say that you know where that is?” asks Dumbledore.

Harry smiles. “Well sure, it’s--”

Dumbledore holds up a hand. “No, don’t say it, Riddle may hear. Write it down instead.” And as Harry complies, he continues, “The only reason we haven’t gone there before this is because none of us could recall its location.”

“Harry must have been its Secret Keeper.” Molly exhales. “I’ll gather everyone. We can be ready to go in a half an hour.”

“I’m staying here, Mum,” says Ron. When Molly’s eyes narrow, he shrugs. “Someone has to guide Harry back if he’s reentering the Dreaming.”

“You won’t just be guiding Harry back,” chimes in Draco. “Because I’m going, too.”

“But you can’t,” says Harry, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

Draco’s eyes flash. “Is that so? Well, let me tell you something, Potter. Chosen One or not, Severus is my godfather, my mentor, and the only real family I have left. He means a lot to me, and you’re going to have my help getting him out whether you want it or not. Questions?”

“Right, well if Draco’s staying, I’m staying,” says Ginny, chin tilted up.

Molly throws up her hands. “It seems we’re all staying, then, but we can at least have someone go ahead to set up the new headquarters.”

Harry hands Dumbledore the parchment. “Or maybe,” he says softly, “we won’t even need the new headquarters.”

Dumbledore smiles, tucking the parchment into his robes. “We can only hope.” He hesitates. “You realise that people will die if you do this? Muggles, Harry. Are you prepared to live with that?”

“You said that the Muggles that Riddle and his followers use have been marked, right? That they made a choice to serve them?”

Dumbledore nods.

“Then they’ve already chosen their side.” Harry met his eyes without flinching. “I’m not happy that anyone has to get hurt, but the alternative is worse, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore sighs. “Indeed it is. Good luck, my boy.”

With a plan in place, they all start moving, and within minutes he and Draco are back in the room, being hooked up to tendrils. Harry bites his lip when he sees Snape’s body lying there.

“I’m going to put you down as close to the building where they’re holding Snape as I can,” says Ron, peering into his crystal as Hermione waves her wand over their heads. “He’s on the twenty-fifth floor, the southeast corner of the building. There’s an old Floo ten blocks away. Do you need any supplies before you go in?”

Harry hums as something occurs to him. “You know, I think we do.” Turning his head, he looks at Draco. “How good are you with guns?”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “I’m a pureblood wizard. Why would I need to know about guns?”

Harry grins. “Because we’re going up against other pureblood wizards who think the same way. Maybe guns would give us an unexpected edge.”

Draco pauses, thinks about it. With a sigh, he says to Ron, “How fast can you teach us about guns?”

Ron winks. “You want to know about firearms, you got it.”

Hermione sighs. “Be careful, Harry.”

Harry nods. “I will.” He glances over at Draco and Ginny, who are chatting softly. “And when did that happen?”

“I think--” Hermione purses her lips. “I think it would have happened sooner but for Pansy. But now that she’s gone--” She shrugs. “The more important question is, are you okay with it?”

Harry nods. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be? I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And Snape back,” Hermione says. She hesitates. “You’re going to an awful lot of effort to get him back. You must really care about him.”

“I do.” Harry smiles. “I want to be happy, too.”

She nods. “I know.” Leaning in, she kisses his cheek. “I’d tell you not to take any chances, but I know you, so I’ll just say this. Kick their arses.”

Ron chuckles. “Right. First stop, supplies.”

Harry is sucked into the Dream and finds himself standing amidst racks of weapons. In his head he has his newly loaded gun knowledge and he starts arming himself. Beside him, Draco does the same, face grim. “This is insane.”

Harry nods. “Maybe. But that also could be why it’ll work.”

Draco snorts, picking up an AK-47. “Oh well, at least if we fail it’ll be spectacular,” he mutters.

“We won’t fail,” says Harry, starting to load guns and weapons into a bag. “We can’t.” He hums. “Plus, Ginny will kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

Draco snorts. “What? No threats about what you’ll do to me if I hurt her?”

Harry grins. “No threats are needed. If you hurt her, she’ll kill you herself.”

Draco goes still. “Fuck me.”

Harry nods. “Exactly. Now let’s go.”

The building in which Snape’s being tortured is similar to the one in which Harry recalls being held by Riddle. In fact, it resembles every other government building Harry knows. Brown and nondescript, it has military guards everywhere, and as they move towards it, Harry says, “Whatever happens we get Snape out. Deal?”

“Or die trying.” Draco shoots him a look. “I have to say, Potter, I never thought I’d see the day you were prepared to sacrifice innocent Muggles.”

“They’re not innocent,” says Harry, not sure if trying to convince himself or Draco. “They’ve already sold themselves to the devil. It’s us or them.”

“True.” Draco squares his shoulders. “Right, let’s do this.”

As they walk in, there’s a big sign declaring all weaponry be surrendered for admittance. Without pausing, Draco sets the large bag of weapons he’s carrying on the conveyor belt for it to be scanned.

Harry, meanwhile, simply strides up to the metal detector, walking through confidently. Not unexpectedly, it beeps.

The guard, clearly bored, looks up. “If you have any metal in your pockets -- keys, spare change -- I’ll need you to remove it.”

Slowly, Harry pulls open his long jacket, revealing his array of weaponry. He has guns hanging from every available spot. From the corner of his eye he sees Draco pull a weapon. As the guard gapes at him, Harry smiles. “I need to get inside. Now, either you step aside, or--”

“Drop your weapons!”

Harry sighs. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

One of the guards fires the first shot, and Harry erects a shield, deflecting it. After that it’s a free-for-all, with both him and Draco mowing down the guards, their reinforcements, and, in the process, practically destroying the lobby.

As he moves, Harry ignores gravity, running up walls and spinning in the air as he shoots. He barely has to use magic, except for protection. Draco, too, is spinning and shooting, although he does, at times, have to hit a few people with his fists. Rather than being fastidious, he’s brutal, and when he knocks someone out, they stay down.

It takes a few minutes of furious fighting, but when they finally get to the lifts, they are unscathed, and there are bodies strewn everywhere.

Draco calls the lift, and, as they step inside, he exhales, saying, “Well, that’s the easy bit done, then. Now for the hard part.”

Harry snorts. “Yep.” Stooping down, he pulls the next item out of the bag. “Ready to really let them know we’re here?”

“Do I have a choice?” Draco says, helping him set up the bomb.

“Not really, no.” Pointing his wand at the lift’s ceiling, he jumps up, helping Draco up as well. Clasping the cable and checking that Draco is, too, Harry exhales. “Ready?”

At Draco’s nod, he shoots the cable, and the lift falls away as the cable snaps, pulling them up towards the ceiling. The bomb detonates just as they clamber through the ducts and onto the roof. Harry has to steady himself by hanging onto the wall.

Once on the roof, they find guards waiting. Draco sighs. “You know, I think they may have noticed us,” he quips.

“You could be right!” Harry shouts, and then there’s no more time to talk.

These guards are tougher, their aim better, but, since Harry still has a shield up, no bullets get through. When a woman suddenly materialises in mid air, however, cackling madly, he knows who she is even before he sees her face. “Oh, shit,” he mutters as she shoves guards out of the way. “Draco! Incoming!”

“I see her!” Dropping his gun, Draco pulls his wand.

Bellatrix Lestrange twirls her own wand, a cunning look on her face. “Well, look at you boys,” she all but sings, her eyes a bit mad. “Itty, bitty babies being all grown up.” She pouts. “Although I am disappointed in you, Draco. I knew Snape was a betrayer, but you’re family--”

Harry fires a hex and she deflects it easily, sending one back that sends him flying. He lands on his arse, shaking his head to clear it. “Ah, ah, ah. So rude! I’m speaking with my nephew, Potter. I’ll deal with you later.”

“No,” says Harry, standing up. “You’ll deal with me now.”

“Oh, are you all grown up now?” Bellatrix cackles, the sound making Harry shiver. “Do you remember what I told you before? You have to mean it. Are you going to try kill me, filthy little half-blood? Do you have it in you?” Raising her wand, she fires a barrage of hexes, which, somehow, Harry dodges.

Harry narrows his eyes, and, drawing his gun, shoots at the same time as he hexes. To his shock, several bullets gets through, one lodging in her shoulder and several burying themselves in her abdomen, throwing her backwards.

Shrieking, Bellatrix topples over the side of the building.

Harry runs to the edge to see her clinging with her undamaged arm.

“Harry--” Draco is behind him. “She’s my aunt. Don’t--”

“Give me your hand,” says Harry, extending his own towards her. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Bellatrix’s eyes widen. “Are you going to try to save me, Potter?” She coughs and it’s bloody. “Don’t bother, it won’t save you.” And, holding his gaze, she lets go, falling backwards, cackling all the while. Mid-way down, she stops, her eyes closing. Harry turns away before she hits the ground, but he still hears the sickening thud.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, sitting down heavily. “I’m sorry, Draco.”

“We don’t have time for that now.” Looking up, Harry sees Draco, his face set, pulling something out of his pocket. Spreading it on the ground, he unshrinks it. “Get on. And bring the machine gun.”

“What--?”

“Flying carpet. Now get on!”

Harry does, Summoning their bag of weapons. Clutching at a carpet handle, he uses his free hand to rummage for a machine gun as Draco snaps a word that sends the carpet diving off the roof. It’s all Harry can do not to throw up as the carpet glides down the side of the building. Draco clearly has expertise with it, however, manoeuvring it until it’s hovering just outside a window.

Catching his breath, Harry shifts into position. Once he’s cross-legged, he aims the gun. “Can you shield Snape?”

Draco nods, drawing his wand. “On it.”

Harry opens fire, spraying bullets everywhere. Windows shatter, people go down, and yet Harry continues shooting until his gun is out of rounds. Tossing the machine gun over the side of the carpet, he leans forward, squinting. “Try to get closer,” he says. “I think I see him.”

Inside, the sprinklers are on and no one is moving, including Snape, who’s strapped to a chair, his eyes closed. There is blood everywhere; Harry can only imagine what Riddle has been doing to him. “Get up,” he shouts. “Get up, Severus!”

Cursing, Draco pushes him aside. “Are you or are you not a wizard?” he snarls. “Enervate!”

Snape’s eyes open and he looks around. He sees Harry and Draco at the window and his eyes widen in recognition. Harry sees it the moment he realises the situation he’s in.

“Come on!” shouts Harry. “Run!”

It takes a moment, but Snape eventually starts pulling at the straps keeping him in his seat, struggling to get free.

“Sectumsempra!” cries Harry, slicing the rest of the straps.

Snape stands, looking a bit wobbly on his feet, and as he takes his first step towards the window, the door opens, Riddle stepping inside. “No!” he roars.

Wand raised, he points it at Snape.

Both Harry and Draco start shooting hexes towards Riddle, distracting him as Snape picks up speed. One hex still gets through, however, and Harry sees Snape trip, about to fall out the window. Without thinking, he jumps, catching him. “Gotcha,” he whispers.

“Harry! Get back up here!”

Blinking, Harry realises he’s flying, Snape in his arms. Riddle is still shooting hexes at them and, somehow, Harry manoeuvres them both back up onto the carpet, which Draco then flies away. “Tell me Riddle can’t fly,” he pants.

“I’ve no idea,” says Snape, eyes closed. “He could before, but I’ve no idea what he still remembers.”

“It doesn’t appear that anyone’s following us,” says Draco as he steers the carpet around buildings. He glances back at them. “Although you should stay on the lookout just in case.”

Harry nods, hovering over Snape. “Right.”

“Oh yes,” drawls Draco. “I can see you’re paying attention.” He steers the carpet away from the city. “It does look like we got away with it, though.”

“Finally,” says Harry. “Some good luck.” He wipes blood off Snape’s face. “Are you all right?”

Snape opens his eyes, looks up at Harry. “What do you think?” he says, but he’s smiling.

Harry grins, leaning in close. “I think--”

“Oi!” says Draco. “Before this gets out of hand and you two start snogging, do you think you could put out that fire since I’m busy flying this bloody thing?”

Blushing, Harry raises his head in time to see the edge of the carpet smouldering. “Right,” he says. “Sorry. Aguamenti!”

Snape sighs, sitting up. He winces as he moves; Harry can only imagine the pain he’s in. “I cannot believe you came for me.”

“Trust me, me either,” says Draco. He shakes his head. “It was Potter’s ridiculous idea. I can’t believe it actually worked.”

“Was it indeed?” Snape looks at Harry intently. “Why did you do it?” he murmurs. “I can’t imagine Dumbledore approved.”

“I didn’t give him a choice.” Harry shrugs. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

This time not even Draco’s snort stops Harry from kissing Snape, who, after only a momentary hesitation, kisses him back. Harry pours everything into that kiss, including his relief at having found Snape again and his anguish at having lost him in the first place. When they separate, Snape cups Harry’s face in his hands, stares into his eyes, and nods once. Message received, his eyes say.

“Right,” says Draco, his smirk audible in his voice. “We can’t stay on this thing for too long. Muggles will see us.” He hums. “And you two are being anything but discreet.”

Shaking his head, Harry sighs. “Fine.” Settling against Snape, he looks around. “How about that field?” he asks, pointing. “It looks safe and it’s in a sparsely inhabited area. We can land there and then call Ron, see what’s happening back at the Burrow.”

Harry can hear the excitement in Ron’s voice as soon as Draco’s call connects. “Fucking hell, I saw everything and that was brilliant!”

“Thanks,” says Draco, rolling his eyes. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you were following along, then.”

“Ask him if there’s an exit nearby,” says Harry, who’s pulled out the dittany Hermione insisted they bring to start patching Snape up.

Draco huffs. “As soon as he lets me get a word in edgewise,” he says as Ron continues babbling. “Weasley! We can fill you in on the details once we’re back and safe, all right? Now come on, find us an exit.”

“I already did, you pillock.” Ron’s voice sounds cheerful. “There’s an old country estate about a mile from your current location with a fireplace in the main living room. I’ll make sure there’s a convenient emergency so the family’s not home.”

“Did you hear that?” asks Draco. At Harry’s nod, he says, “Right, we’re on our way there.” Closing the phone, he shrinks the carpet. “We should walk, it’s safer.”

“Agreed.” Helping Snape up, Harry says, “Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine.” Snape starts off, his knees almost crumpling.

Harry grabs his waist, supporting him. “We’ll take it slowly,” he says.

“Not too slowly.” Draco scans the woods. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

It takes them twenty minutes, and when they arrive the house is, fortunately, empty. Draco jimmies open a window; Harry is careful not to ask where he acquired that skill. “This place looks familiar,” Draco says, looking around, a puzzled expression on his face. “Come on, I bet the living room is this way.”

He’s correct, and the fireplace is huge. As soon as Draco gets close it flares green, Ron’s voice coming through. “Hurry up! I told the family there’s a gas leak and the gas company’s on their way. You don’t want to be there when they arrive.”

“You first, Snape,” says Harry, helping him limp over to the Floo. “Let’s get you out.”

“No,” says Snape. “Draco first.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “I would argue, but I know how you are.” He smirks. “Try not to take too long, all right? You don’t have time for much more than a quick snog.” He steps in and is gone with a flare of bright green.

“We can go together,” says Harry.

“No, it doesn’t work as well that way.” Snape sighs, gazing at Harry. “I just wanted to say this before we get back. You’re the only reason I didn’t break when they had me. Even with--” he swallows hard, “--everything they did, I was able to hold on because I know you can do it. You can defeat him and save the world.”

Touched, Harry smiles. “I hope so. It helps that you believe I can.”

“How very sweet. I think I may vomit.”

Harry gasps, shoving Snape into the fireplace. It flares green and a moment later is gone, blasted to rubble. But Snape got out, and that’s what matters. Spinning, Harry turns to face Riddle.

“Well, well, Mr Evans. Or, if we’re being straightforward, Mr Potter.” Riddle smirks. “Yes, just about all of my memories are back, how about yours?”

Harry’s hand edges towards his pocket. Riddle shakes his head. “Ah, ah, ah! None of that, Harry my boy. All I want is to have a civil conversation.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “Is that why you keep killing people? You want to have a conversation?”

“I only kill people who defy me!” Riddle shouts. He clears his throat. “People simply must learn that that’s a bad idea.” He smirks. “I’m prepared to make you a one-time offer, Harry.” He spreads his arms. “That’s why I came alone. You see, what’s happened to the world is even better than I’d hoped. My dream makes everything easier. Now, even Muggles contribute to my might. There’s no longer a reason to kill them all, so you see, I’m admitting that I may have been wrong. Muggles do have their uses.” He pauses as if expecting Harry to respond.

Harry waits.

Riddle sighs. “All I want is for the Dreaming to continue. Surely you see it’s for the best? And I can even guarantee that you and your friends will be honoured and remembered. Perhaps in literature. How would you like that? Harry Potter, the novel.”

Harry still waits.

Riddle huffs. “Fine, your friends will live. I can make them forget all about this, give them all happy lives. But I’m sure you see that I have to kill you and Severus.” His tone goes hard. “It would be bad for morale, you see, to have the two of you running free. My...followers would have a difficult time accepting that. So, what do you say? It’s as good a deal as you’ll get.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you where to put your oh-so-generous offer,” he says.

Riddle laughs, high and cold. “Oh dear. What would your sainted mother say if she could hear you? You think you can fight me? Foolish boy! Avada Kedavra!”

“Protego!” Harry manages to cast the shield even before he has his wand in his hand. Apparently those wandless magic lessons did pay off, he thinks before there’s no room for anything but hexes and counter-curses.

There are curses lighting up the room, gouging holes in the walls. The furniture is on fire, the windows blown out by the force of their duel, but Harry is unhurt, and after a while, Riddle is starting to look afraid.

Harry narrows his eyes, redoubling his efforts to Disarm him, stop him. He senses Riddle is getting desperate and knows that he’ll be at his most dangerous then. Gritting his teeth, Harry adds an extra push to his hexing, and for a moment it’s as if he sees into Riddle’s soul. He sees a courtyard, reduced to rubble, and he sees the two of them, himself and Riddle in the centre, duelling. Riddle screams something, Harry shouts something else, and Riddle’s wand flies into Harry’s hand.

“No!” shrieks Riddle. “No!”

Unsure of what Riddle is doing, Harry steps back, and is dragged though some sort of portal. The last thing he sees before the portal closes is Riddle screaming. He collapses into someone’s arms. “Got you,” whispers Snape, and the world goes dark.

Wincing, Harry opens his eyes. “What happened?” He blinks, sitting up and looking around. He’s in a bed in an unfamiliar room. “Where am I?”

Hermione smiles. “Welcome back. You’re at Grimmauld Place.”

“Grimmauld?” Harry shakes his head, utterly confused. “How did I get here?”

“I rescued you.” Snape, looking a lot better than the last time Harry saw him, walks in. Draco, Ginny, and Ron are right behind him.

“With a little help,” says Draco.

Snape snorts. “Yes, I suppose your knowledge did prove somewhat useful.”

“Somewhat?”

Harry is staring at Snape. “Tell me what happened.”

Settling on the edge of Harry’s bed, Snape takes his hand. “When Riddle appeared and you pushed me through, I ended up in the Burrow. I told Ronald I wished to return immediately to help you.”

“But that wanker had already blown up the Floo,” Ron says, taking up the story. “I told him it was impossible.”

“Which is where I come in.” Draco, his arm around Ginny, smirks. “I knew I’d recognised that place. It’s Malfoy Manor, only some sort of Muggle version.”

Harry hums. “Okay. So how did that help?”

Hermione smiles. “That was when I remembered an obscure bit of magic I read in Advanced Arithmancy about how different dimensions can touch at certain places if there’s enough similarity in the two dimensions.”

Shaking his head, Harry says, “Can you explain for those of us who are not experts in Arithmancy?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione says, “It means that Draco, having seen the place where you were fighting Riddle in the Dreaming, and being familiar with its corresponding spot here in the wizarding world, was able to reach through and get you.” She smiles. “After that we had you back, disconnected you from the tendrils, and transported you here.” She shudders. “It was just in time, too. Just after we left, the Death Eaters stormed the Burrow. It’s been burned to the ground.”

“Wow.” Harry’s fingers tighten on Snape’s. “You did all that for me?”

“It’s less than what you did for me,” replies Snape, tone soft.

“Look at them. You’d think the rest of us had nothing to do with it,” mutters Draco, shaking his head. “You’re welcome, Potter. I’ve no idea why I even bothered.”

“Because I would have killed you if you hadn’t?” suggests Ginny, tone sweet.

“That may have had something to do with it,” Draco concedes. “Anyway, welcome back.”

Pulling his gaze away from Snape’s, Harry smiles at Draco. “Thanks.” His eyes widen. “Oh shit.”

“What?” they all ask.

“Just before you got me, I was able to access some of Riddle’s memories.” Harry exhales. “I know where his body is.”

“This is excellent news.” Everyone turns to see Dumbledore at the door. “Are you up for a trip, Harry?”

Harry nods. “Definitely, sir.” He stands, but has to cling to the bed to steady himself.

Dumbledore smiles. “Perhaps we should patch you up first. Hermione?”

Hermione nods. “I’ll take care of it, sir.”

“Good. As soon as he’s ready to go, let me know. We must be quick and very stealthy.” He holds up a hand as Draco opens his mouth. “And before you ask, only Harry and I can go.”

According to Ron, it’s been less than an hour since Harry’s last encounter with Riddle. Harry, still worried that he’ll have had time to hide his body, takes all the potions Hermione pours down his throat as Snape watches.

“Are you sure you feel up to this?” Severus keeps asking as he hovers protectively.

Hermione, taking the hint, hands Harry one last phial and, winking, says, “I’ll give you a few minutes for the potions to kick in.” Then, leaving, she shuts the door.

Harry and Snape stare at each other for a moment. Then they reach for each other at the same time, mouths crashing together as Snape walks Harry backwards towards the bed. “We don’t have to do this--” groans Snape as he reaches for Harry’s clothes.

“Yes, we do,” whispers Harry, pulling him down on top of him. He smiles. “You do want me to go out there inspired to come back, don’t you?”

Snape...Severus slides his fingers over Harry’s skin, but when he pauses, slows down, Harry frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I never thought--” Severus swallows hard. “We shouldn’t--”

“We totally should,” says Harry, sliding a hand around Severus’ neck to draw him closer. He presses his forehead against Severus’ and closes his eyes. “What if we never manage it again?”

Severus sighs, but Harry senses he’s weakening. “Anyone could come in.”

Harry catches Severus’ bottom lip in his. “They won’t. And if they do? They’ll leave again. Now stop arguing.” He grins. “I’m the Chosen One, remember? And I just saved you.”

“I saved you, too,” Severus reminds him.

“We saved each other,” agrees Harry. “So let’s save each other again now.”

They kiss, and sensation spirals through Harry. But where he wants to be fast, Severus is slow. Despite Harry’s begging, Severus deliberately slides his hands over Harry’s chest, down to his waist, clearly taking his time, and when he grasps Harry’s cock, Harry can only arch up, moan into his mouth, and try to get closer.

Harry’s not sure who actually does it, perhaps it’s both their magic, but moments later they are naked, skin to skin, and Severus’ fingers are inside Harry, stretching him.

“We have to hurry,” whispers Harry. “They’re going to come back soon. I’m ready. Please, Severus--”

Severus bends down, kissing him silent, and continues his slow pace. And only when Harry is trembling, his legs wrapped around Severus’ waist as he begs, only then does Severus enter him, sliding deep, thrusting slowly, making the pleasure build between them until Harry cries out, his orgasm washing over him in waves.

Above him, Severus stiffens, his thrusting going ragged until he, too, comes. As he does he presses his face into Harry’s neck, moaning through his release.

They lie there for a few minutes as they catch their breath, and when Severus shifts, Harry’s arms tighten around him. “I wish we could just stay here forever,” he whispers.

Severus presses a kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “As do I.”

Harry smiles. “I guess I’d better go take care of the bad guy so we can do that again, hm?”

“We’d better, you mean.”

Harry raises his head, staring at Severus. “You can’t come with me.”

Severus stiffens. “And why not?”

“Dumbledore says just me and him, remember? Plus, you just escaped him. It’s too dangerous,” Harry whispers. “I couldn’t concentrate with you there.”

Severus raises an eyebrow. “You mean I provide some measure of distraction?” he purrs, the tone in his voice making something inside Harry liquefy.

“Bastard,” Harry says, kissing him. “You know what you do to me.”

“I’ve an idea, yes,” murmurs Snape. “But I certainly know what I intend to do to you once you get back.”

Harry shivers at the promise in Severus’ eyes. “I should get dressed.”

“That would be for the best, yes.” Raising his hand, Severus Summons Harry’s clothes. “Especially if we don’t want Albus finding us naked.”

When the knock comes, they are once again dressed, and are sitting on the bed, Severus’ arms around Harry, chatting. Harry flushes when Dumbledore pokes his head in to tell him they must go. “Yes, sir,” says Harry, extricating himself from Severus’ arms.

Dumbledore smiles at Severus. “He’ll be fine, Severus.”

Eyeing Harry, Severus finally nods. “I know.”

Dumbledore and Harry Apparate to Hogwarts, landing by Hagrid’s hut. “Why here, sir?” asks Harry as they trudge up the hill.

Dumbledore hums. “It seemed the best location to start.”

They arrive at the courtyard and Harry blinks. It’s a mess, rubble everywhere, but there’s no sign of Riddle’s body. “I don’t understand,” he says. “He should be right here.”

“Perhaps he’s moved it,” says Dumbledore. He hesitates. “Are you...still in contact with his mind?”

Harry nods. “It’s deep, but I can feel him.” He signs. “He knows we’re here.”

Dumbledore nods. “I expected that. Come, let’s try to find his body before he gets here.”

They search, but are unsuccessful. “Maybe he hid it somewhere else?” Harry says. “How will I ever find him if he did, it could be anywhere--”

“Ah, but what do your instincts tell you?” asks Dumbledore. “Close your eyes and concentrate.”

Harry does, calming his breathing. “He’s here,” he finally whispers. “I think--” His eyes open. “I know where.”

He hurries towards the Great Hall, Dumbledore behind him. There, at the head table Harry sees the headmaster’s chair. It’s empty, however. He sighs. “I was so sure--” he whispers.

“Don’t give up,” says Dumbledore. “Take a closer look.”

Harry walks closer, puzzled as the air around the chair seems to blur. He squints, then rubs his eyes. It’s as if something’s there, yet isn’t. As if his instincts are telling him one thing and his eyes another. He almost turns away several times, goes to search elsewhere, but somehow, he knows this is the place.

Dumbledore is gone, the world has faded, it’s just him and the chair. Something makes him draw his wand, point it. “Finite!”

There is a soundless explosion of light, driving Harry to his knees, and when his vision returns, Harry sees Riddle...Voldemort as he remembers him.

The tendrils covering him are huge, much larger than any that Harry has seen, and as he watches he sees them undulate, as if feeding Voldemort. Which, of course, they are, Harry realises a moment later. He squints, almost blinded by the amount of magic in those tendrils.

Above the chair is a portrait, its canvas black, and as Harry stares at it, Dumbledore walks into it. Harry’s eyes widen and the last pieces fall into place. “You’re dead,” he whispers. “I remember now.”

Dumbledore inclines his head. “I knew you’d remember eventually.” He nods at Voldemort. “And now you have a job to do, Harry. Finish it.”

Moving slowly, Harry reaches for one of the tendrils attached to Voldemort, wincing as he’s burned pulling it off. He continues, however, ignoring the pain, ignoring the way the tendrils flail and lash at him. About midway through, Voldemort opens his eyes, stares ay Harry. “No--”

Ignoring him, Harry continues to disconnect him from the tendrils until there’s just one left, the largest one that goes into the base of his brain. Harry reaches for it, crying out when Voldemort grabs his wrist and squeezes. It hurts and Harry drops his wand, going to his knees.

“Stop,” Voldemort hisses. “You can’t win. I will always win. Alwaysss!” Harry groans as Voldemort starts to stand, pulling Harry with him. “And what can you do now, boy?” he snarls. “Wandless, weak, defeated. You have lost!”

Harry, his eyes watering with pain, looks down, sees the tendril trailing behind the chair. “No,” he says, stepping to the side. “I haven’t.” And raising his foot, he brings it down firmly on the tendril.

Voldemort roars, releasing Harry’s hand and flailing as he falls backwards.

Ignoring the pain, Harry grabs his wand, points it at the tendril, and shouts, “Sectumsempra!”

The tendril splits as it’s severed, power and light spilling from it. The blast of power catches Harry full in the face and he goes flying, landing on a table several feet away. He groans, tries to sit up. He hears footsteps and cracks open one eye to see Voldemort limping towards him, wand pointed.

“Why must you fight me? Why? WHY?” Voldemort sounds tired. “Still, no matter. I’m still more powerful than you. Avada Kedavra!”

Acting on instinct, Harry, unable to move his arm, nevertheless points his wand and shouts, “Expelliarmus!”

A shocked expression crosses Voldemort’s face and, as his wand is ripped from his hand and sails towards Harry, he screams, “No!”

Harry catches the wand, propping himself up on his good elbow. “Now, let’s end this,” he says, pointing both wands at Voldemort. “Finite!”

Voldemort shrieks, his body dissolving before Harry’s eyes. “No!” he whimpers. “It’s not fair--!” And then he’s gone, a pile of dust. Harry collapses back onto the table, closes his eyes, and the world fades away.

Someone’s talking. Harry’s not sure what they are saying but he knows who it is. “Don’t you dare die on me,” he hears Severus say. “Not now. Not after everything. Wake up, Harry.”

Harry swallows, taking a shaky breath. Everything hurts. “Wha--?”

“He’s awake, you can stop hovering now, Severus.”

Harry opens an eye, blinking at the brightness. There are people there, but they are out of focus. Someone slips his glasses on his face. “Madam Pomfrey?”

She smiles at him. “Welcome back, Mr Potter. You’ve had quite an exciting time, I hear.” Harry tries to sit up but she tuts and places a hand on his shoulder. “No moving for you, I’m afraid. Bed rest is my prescription.”

Pomfrey steps aside and Hermione comes into view. “You did it, Harry, you ended the Dreaming.”

“It’s over?” Harry smiles, but a moment later it fades. “Wait, where’s Severus?”

Hermione glances at someone to the other side of Harry. “I told you.”

Harry turns his head. Severus is there, his expression unreadable. “I wasn’t sure that you’d still want--” He clears his throat. “Now that things are back to normal--”

Wincing, Harry nevertheless manages to grasp Severus’ hand and pull it to his mouth. “Can things ever really be normal with us?” he asks, brushing his lips against Severus’ palm.

Severus’ mouth tips up. “Perhaps not,” he murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Pomfrey clears her throat. “Well, it looks like you’re in good hands here, Mr Potter. Time to go and tend to my other charges. Come along, Miss Granger. Potter needs his rest, and I’m sure he’ll have many visitors later.”

Grinning, Hermione leans in, kissing Harry’s cheek. “I’ll give you as much time as I can,” she whispers. “I’m sure I can distract Ron for a little while.”

Once alone, Harry stares up at Severus, unsure where to even start. “Dumbledore,” he finally says. “He was dead all along?”

Severus sighs. “I’m not sure I understand how that worked, either. He was the one who woke me from the Dreaming. When I got my memories back--” He shudders. “I asked him how he could still be here when I was the one who killed him.”

Harry’s hand tightens on his. “What did he say?”

Severus smiles. “Magic.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Typical. Do you think he’ll answer me?”

Severus draws his wand, expanding the bed before lying down beside Harry and gathering him in his arms. “I think you’ll have to wait to find out,” he says. “Pomfrey says you need bed rest, so bed rest is what you’ll get.”

Harry grins, closing his eyes. “Shame. I was hoping we could do something a bit more strenuous.”

“In time,” murmurs Severus, kissing him. “In time.”

It’s a week before he’s allowed out of bed, and Severus stays with him the entire time. Harry has a steady stream of visitors while he’s in the infirmary, and only a few of them have raised eyebrows when they see Severus there with him. Evidently, Hermione’s been busy.

Even Draco comes to visit, hand in hand with Ginny, and full of news. “Lovegood and Longbottom are back from Tahiti.”

Harry blinks. “Why were they in Tahiti?”

Ginny grins. “Apparently Luna’s always wanted to go, and she figured Voldemort wouldn’t look for her there.”

Harry laughs. “Clever girl.”

When he finally makes it to the headmaster’s office, Harry isn’t surprised that Dumbledore’s portrait is ‘asleep’. Shaking his head, he stares up at it. “You’re going to have to answer some questions eventually, sir,” he says after standing there for several minutes.

Severus, behind him, snorts. “You’ll come to learn, as I have, that he never answers questions he doesn’t want to answer.”

Shaking his head, Harry turns away. “Fine. Since we can’t talk to him, what should we do now?”

“I was thinking about taking you back to bed,” murmurs Severus.

Harry sighs. “I’m fine! I don’t need more bed rest.”

Severus slides his arms around Harry’s waist, guiding him towards the door. “Ah, but who said anything about resting?”

And as Harry starts moving more enthusiastically, neither one sees Dumbledore’s portrait smirk.

~