After the Second Rise

After the Second Rise

By: Red

Disclaimer: I do not own rights to the story or characters of Harry Potter.

By the White Tiles

Light caressing his eyelids with a warm glow was the very first indication that Harry Potter was waking up. Warmth and the feeling of euphoria that Harry had always associated with numbing potions was the second. Harry wasn't even fully awake and he knew he was in a hospital ward of some sort.

His first instinct was to spread his senses outward from his body to get a feel of the room he was in and the people who shared the space with him. He'd been using his senses this way ever since the third time he had woken up from consciousness in the clutches of his enemies.

Harry had quickly learned that if his enemies still felt he were unconscious then he could learn more about them without their knowledge and that it was a way he could bide his time. This technique had saved his life on more then one occasion, and it was the sole reason he'd survived more then twelve ambushes over the last three months. Harry had practiced the technique so many times it had become second nature. It was a good way to gage on weather or not he was in a relatively safe place and a good way to get the extra rest his body desperately needed.

Thus, tendrils of his magic stretched across the room like invisible fingers, feeling over the smooth surfaces of the walls and wedging its way into every nook and cranny. The vibrations in the air against the magic began to sketch an image within Harry's mind and the images told him that he was indeed in a hospital room. The room held four beds, one of which was occupied by Harry and the other three were empty. The feeling of sunlight against the right side of Harry's body told him that his bed was next to a window in the far corner of the room and that there were two other strong sources of magic sitting on either side of the Harry's bed.

Harry searched further and found that other then the two sources of magic to either side of him; there was a distinct lack of power in the air. Whereas at Hogwarts magic permeated everything making the air constantly move and the ground and walls vibrate with the power around him…This place felt stale and distinctly still.

Harry pulled back his magic and tested the two magical beings beside him searching for that oily taint of dark magic that would give them away as Death Eaters. The magic to his left was certainly powerful, but it was a wild, barely tamed aura. Harry had noticed that the more wild magic often came from those of pure Muggle birth.

Harry suspected that the reason Muggle born magic is more wild is because it was of a different make to the pure-blooded's magic. It was a newer, more natural variation of magic. More elemental then the magic's he associated with Wizard-born children and he'd noticed that it tended to be stronger in the Muggle-born Witches as opposed to Muggle-born Wizards.

Just because one magic was more natural then the other didn't necessarily mean it was more powerful. Like many of the pure-blood Death Eaters he'd encountered, power levels in magic was often an illusion. While Muggle Born Witches and Wizards may have more aptitude for the more natural forms of magic pure-born Wizards and Witches had calmer, more controllable varieties of magic. Like the aura to his right. They had spent centuries honing and shaping the magic within them according to their wills giving it a different form and flexibility.

Muggle-born Witches and Wizards would have more aptitude to accidental magic and Wandless magic because of their magic's more naturally wild nature. Pure Bloods; however, had honed their skills so well with a wand and precise calculations that they lost their natural elemental abilities. Wandless magic would be completely impossible for them to use unless they had Muggle blood somewhere within their near to direct lineage. Pure Bloods could be frighteningly deadly with their accuracy when they cast spells and they had perfect control with how much power they placed into one spell often with very minimal effort.

So really, the power of a Witch or Wizard depended on how they each were able to use their abilities and to what extent. One form of magic was not "more powerful" then the other and where one form would fail the other form could gain an advantage and vice-versa. Harry wasn't sure if his assumptions were at all correct from his own observations. He supposed one day he'd fly them by Hermione and allow her to find the answers to his assumptions but as it stood, Harry was fairly positive that the person to his left was a Muggle born Witch or Wizard and the person to his right was most likely a Pure Blood.

Harry came out of his musings and slowly opened his eyes to the bright, white-washed room, allowing the rest of his senses to awaken as he did so. He noticed then who was sleeping next to him in chairs situated beside his bed. The one on his left was clutching his heavily bandaged hand and a bushy wave of brown hair lay beside the hand. Harry's eyes softened as he watched the shoulder of the hand's owner rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He remembered this young woman. It was she who had rescued him off the street in front of her Muggle home. Hermione Granger. She was the definite owner of the wild magic. Harry closed his eyes and allowed his magic to reach out toward hers memorizing the recognizable feel of her magical signature. Why he was doing it, he wasn't entirely sure, but Harry felt it was important.

Harry was surprised by the second warm weight on his other hand. The hand clutching Harry's right one was larger then Hermione's, more callused. Harry followed the long, gangly arm with his eye having to turn his head to get a better look at who else was sleeping beside his bed. Harry noted with some surprise that it was Ron; his other best friend, leaning back sprawled awkwardly in his uncomfortable chair. Harry smiled fondly. The youngest Weasley boy had a gift for being able to sleep anywhere he laid his head. Harry had remembered Ron as he looked for safe places to sleep over the past three months. As he had with Hermione, Harry closed his eyes and made sure to memorize the feel of Ron's aura. Harry was grateful his surrogate brother was there.

A soft beeping noise alerted Harry to a machine to his right behind Hermione that had digital numbers and moving lines displayed across the flat screened surface droning. Cords and tubes ran from Harry to the machine and plastic bags of dark and clear liquids that were being pumped into Harry slowly. He was surprised he hadn't noticed it earlier as it was a distinct indication that Harry was in a Muggle hospital.

Harry allowed his muscles to slump back into the soft mattress and relished in the feel of an actual bed. He supposed he could do without the itchy, scratchy, bandages that covered his body from head to foot but Harry decided he couldn't really complain. It was a small price for the luxury he now found himself in. The mattress was the softest he'd ever remembered it and the warmth given from his thin blankets were heaven to Harry's constantly cold body.

The door to the empty room opened and Harry tensed as he watched a woman dressed as a nurse walk in. She smiled kindly at Harry and after making sure the woman was no Witch Harry carefully tried to smile back. What the woman received looked closer to a lopsided grin then a smile but Harry attributed that to half of his face being completely numb.

"Good afternoon." The nurse greeted in a whisper being careful not to wake his friends. "I'm glad to finally have a conscious patient!" She grinned, "You've been unconscious for four days! We were beginning to worry that we may have done something wrong in the surgery."

Harry opened his mouth to ask, 'what surgery?' but found his throat wouldn't allow sound to come out. For a moment he looked at the nurse stricken before she chuckled reassuringly.

"Don't worry if you can't talk yet." She began scooting around Hermione to check the monitor he was hooked up to with a clip-board and pen in hand, "From the scaring that lined you throat it's a miracle you could talk at all before we had a shot at healing you. You have some heavy burn damage to you're vocal chords, but the doctors think you will heal. They think you'll be able to talk again within a week or so…something about the new doctors that call themselves 'healers' having a miracle medicine or something like that."

Harry nodded numbly and she continued whispering, "As for the surgery, we had to put you under so that we could calm you body down. We had to re-brake a lot of your bones and re-open more then half of your wounds so that we could scrape some of the scar tissue out of you're muscles." She looked at the deathly pale boy and his stricken expression and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, this all may come as quite a shock to you but I was told to let you know what we put you through when you awoke and how we're going to help you heal properly."

"Speaking of healing," She plowed on, "you'll be receiving vitamins and other various pills, which are the regular treatment, and you'll be consuming," Here she frowned as though troubled by what she was about to tell the boy as she read from her clipboard, "Blood-replenishing potions, Numbing potions, Burn Salve, Tissue regeneration potions and…oh this is ridiculous, you're other doctor will tell you what this all means." She waved the clip board around in the air frustrated as though doing so would wipe the words clean of the paper.

She scooted back around Hermione and went to the other side of Harry's bed where she pulled out a few tubes from his arm and replaced them with new ones, "Potions, honestly, what do they expect me to tell you? That you're going to be treated by magic?" She muttered to herself crossly, "Let's just say that Merlin is going to walk into the room to make everything all better and that Arthur would be here too but he's stuck in traffic!"

She looked at Harry with a cross expression, her painted red lips formed in a strait line and her blue eyes blazing, "Potions," She exclaimed exasperated, "If this is some practical joke by someone in the head office they will be answering to me! Mark my words. You just don't do things like that in a hospital! They have no shame! I'm sorry Mr. Evans…It seems my department is having difficulty remembering what's more important, their humor or a patient's piece of mind!"

With the end of her tirade, the irate Nurse swept out of the room ready to bite the ear off of some unsuspecting official for upsetting her patient and making her sound like an unprofessional fool.

Harry would have laughed if he had been able to, but he was beaten to it as a smiling Hermione made her presence known as she watched the Nurse storm out of the room. Harry watched the woman too, confused as to why she would call him "Mr. Evans".

"Every nurse has been doing that since you arrived." She explained, "You should have seen Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey when the Doctors tried to refuse their assistance! They told Madam Pomfrey she didn't have a clue what she was doing and you can imagine how she responded to that! Dumbledore had to wipe three memories and reverse two hexes!"

"If you're wondering at the name, I did that when we checked you in…I worried that if I used you're last name it'd be recognized by some squib or another. Dumbledore was the one who encouraged me not to change it back after he got here." She smiled at him and gently squeezed his hand, "It's good to see you awake." He noticed the hint of red at the edge of her eyes and worriedly wondered if she'd been crying.

"I owled Ron and Dumbledore the minute we got you checked in." She informed Harry, "Dumbledore wasted no time in arriving here with the healer's and Madam Pomfrey by his side. Ron said the minute he'd read the letter I'd sent his family tumbled over themselves to get here." She laughed, "As it was they arrived a half hour after Dumbledore had and they were horribly sorry about it too. They and my parents are out getting some lunch, Ron and I decided to stay, something told us you'd be waking up soon."

"It was all the ruddy twitching you were doing." A groggy voice to the right of him muttered, "You hadn't been twitching nearly as much as you had been today. Hermione and mum fussed over weather or not you'd disturb you're bandages with all the 'movement'."

Ron head rolled his eyes, "Women, I tell you." He stated as he woke up grinning.

Harry grinned lopsidedly at his surrogate brother as Hermione frowned at Ron. But the frown didn't last long. Soon her lips were trembling as tears welled up in her eyes again.

"Oh Harry," Her voice trembled, "We had thought…The ministry claimed you to be dead a week after you're disappearance. The Dark Mark was found over a charred field and the tip of you're wand was found at the edge of the field by the remains of a stable!" She quickly stated as she spilled out all of her worries, "Death Eater sightings have been increasing and rumors that Voldemort is back have been circling for days! The Prophet isn't helping either, their trying to keep everything hushed up by blaming Dumbledore for you're supposed "Death". I'd almost given up hope that you were still alive!" Harry squeezed her hand not knowing what else to do.

He looked at Ron for support but Ron was silent, staring at their clasped hands with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry wanted to say something to reassure Hermione, and apparently Ron as well, but knew that he couldn't. He looked into Hermione's eyes helplessly trying to reassure her. The message was read; Hermione nodded back to him and stood taking her hand out of his in favor of carefully hugging him to her and leaning against the bed.

"I'm so glad I found you…that you found me." She whispered in his ear.

Harry felt a single wet tear fall against his left un-bandaged cheek and carefully wrapped his left arm around his best friend.

"I'm so relieved," She sighed, "Just, so relieved…"

"Yeah, mate." Ron squeezed Harry's hand, "I'd thought I'd lost a brother for a while there…"

The Trio fell into silence. The three stayed like that for a while, Hermione crushed against him and Ron's calmer support beside him. Harry relished in the comforting warmth that came from such an embrace, even with his stiff arms and numb back. All of them relished the feeling of being together again, of being whole after so much uncertainty and fear. Hermione pulled herself away from Harry and he felt peaceful and strangely light after the embrace.

"You should get back to sleep." Hermione stated after sitting back in her chair and taking his hand in her own again, "Sleep is healing Harry, and considering how far you've got to go in the healing department, you're going to need that sleep."

"We'll still be here when you wake up." Ron added.

They smiled and Harry graced his two friends with a weak, lopsided grin and easily fell back to sleep.

"You're sure he's not dead?" A voice muttered above and to the right of Harry followed by an, "OW! Ginny! Why'd you hit me?"

"Because you're sister was trying to show you manners George!" A larger, motherly, voice hissed down and to Harry's left, "you shouldn't be talking about death at a time like this!"

"But Mother," This voice was somewhere at the foot of Harry bed, "George has a point, he dose look a bit peaky…"

"He's sick for Merlin's sake," The woman's voice sighed exasperated, "Not dead!"

"A bit green too." A fourth voice put in agreeably.

"Arthur!" Said the matron, "Don't you dare egg them on!"

"No," George intoned inquisitively, "It's not exactly a green color is it? Fred?"

"No, not green…," Fred answered, "It's more like a particular shade of scarlet."

Harry couldn't hold in the laughter that had been bubbling up inside him any longer. He shot open his eye as he laughed silently grinning lopsided at the sea of red heads that had completely surrounded his bed. His eye landed on each consecutive Weasley as he came to them and all of them were beaming back at Harry as though he were the greatest thing they had ever laid eyes on. Harry was even surprised to see Bill and Charlie standing amongst their younger siblings.

"Well it took you long enough," Bill intoned well naturedly.

"We've been waiting for days for you to wake up and the time you finally do our idiot brother is sleeping!" Ginny intoned grinning, "Welcome back to the world of the living Harry."

"It's good to see you." Charlie nodded to Harry.

"Indeed." George nodded with a 'serious' face earning another one of Ginny's elbows to his side.

Harry just grinned

"Oh, Harry…" Mrs. Weasley stood with her hands clasped together under her breasts with unshed tears, "Oh dear, we thought that…We worried…Oh!" She scooted around next to Harry and threw her large arms around him and cried.

Harry flinched but tried not to show it as the numbing potions were beginning to wear off and a wave of pain jolted through his back. Harry suppressed the pain with practiced ease as he tried to comfort the Weasley matron.

She eventually scooted away from him whipping her eyes as she smiled, "I am very happy you are back." She explained.

Harry thought he'd be hearing that a lot over the course of the next few hours and he was right. The Weasleys made the hospital room one of their permanent dwellings, conjuring chairs and tables. Mrs. Weasley placed a home-nit blanket over Harry and Mr. Weasley inspected the machines that were monitoring Harry's vitals muttering hypotheses under his breath. Bill and Ron set up a card game that Fred, George and Ginny joined while Charlie and Arthur conversed on the technologies that Muggles have developed.

At noon a healer, followed by the Grangers came in. The healer pursed her lips at the number of people in the room and gave Harry several potions Harry had trouble keeping down including a sleeping potion. The Weasleys and Grangers went and ate dinner while Harry slept and only Mrs. Granger, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione came back and stayed until they were kicked out.

For weeks The Weasleys and Grangers made sure Harry was never alone in the hospital. Dumbledore came by twice and joined the families in keeping Harry company. After the first week, the potions the healer's gave him had completely healed his vocal cords and he surprised his nurse to a near-faint by greeting her verbally as she walked in. Harry asked Dumbledore what they were doing about magic secrecy and Dumbledore replied simply that every doctor working with the healers were under oath and that while Harry was in the hospital his surname was "Evans" for Harry's safety. When Harry asked why he had to go by his mother's last name in the hospital Dumbledore replied: He simply felt that the Wizarding media had made such effort convincing the world that Harry was dead that it would be quite a shame to have to prove them wrong.

Dumbledore asked for Harry's account of what had happened to him after the portkey activated and where it had taken him. Harry didn't answer right away; he lifted his left arm to Dumbledore and told him quietly about the cemetery in Little Hanging and about the stables and the ambush. He told Dumbledore about his broken wand and about how he had been stabbed with it and the effects of the death eaters having done so. Dumbledore listened until Harry couldn't talk anymore and carefully placed a hand on Harry's shoulder the twinkle that normally appeared in his eyes completely extinguished.

Then Harry told Dumbledore in a whisper about the connection. How Voldemort always seemed to know where Harry was and how Harry could feel the dark lord when he concentrated on him.

"Harry," Dumbledore stated gravely, "You mustn't try to feel Voldemort."

"I know," Harry whispered staring at the tilled floor, "I don't want to feel him. I don't want to know why he feels emotion or when. I sometimes fear that he's there, constantly watching, listening to everything I see, or hear…I try to always think about something dull, something that won't give away what's in my mind. I imagine a wall, a completely impenetrable wall where he can't reach me. I like to think that it works, but then he'll feel some strong emotion and I'll feel it and I'll know that the wall isn't enough…that he's inside the wall…"

Harry was trembling as he looked up at his mentor, "I don't know what to do. I try to think only about the white ceiling because I think there are so many white ceilings out there…I hope I can fool him, but I don't know if it's enough!" Dumbledore was silent as he watched his young charge begin to break in front of him.

Harry's whole body shook, he clutched the blankets in his bandaged fists and a heat began to rise around him disturbing the air. His Green eye was focused on his hands and tears were building up at the edges of his eye-lid. His expression was completely hopeless and terrified as he spoke.

"At first, when I got here," Harry continued, "I'd thought it was over, I thought I'd be safe, but I can feel him searching for me. I can feel him as I lay here at night; he's trying to get into the rest of my mind, to get past my image of the ceiling. I can't let him, I…I feel so…disgusting…Like I've been raped, like I've been tainted by this…monster!"

He looked back up to Dumbledore, "Do you have any idea what that feels like?" He asked, his voice trembling, "Do you know what it feels like to have someone in you're head? Is there anything I can do…to get him out?" The flowers beside Harry's bed burst into flames startling the boy enough to pull him out of his intense emotions.

Harry jumped and stared at the flowers silently as Dumbledore calmly extinguished the flames with his wand, now unable to look at his headmaster directly. He hadn't planned on spilling all of those emotions out to the older man, and he was afraid of what he'd see in those ancient eyes if he dared look in them again. Would it be shame or repulsion that would reflect back at Harry through those blue, twinkling eyes? Would he even look at Harry? The tortured boy sat, staring at the charred remains of the flowers allowing the image of the black petals to fill his vision.

While he'd been on the run, Harry had discovered his strange connection to his parent's murderer on accident. He'd accidentally entered the Sadist's mind and immediately regretted it as He realized Voldemort then knew exactly where he was. Death eaters had been upon him within seconds and Harry still didn't know how he'd gotten out of their clutches alive. Ever since that moment he'd felt Voldemort at the edge of his thoughts pulling out images and feelings from Harry on a regular basis. Harry began inserting dull images that were so common that they could be found anywhere each time he felt Voldemort reach for him. It was a small victory for Harry every time he felt the unnatural Wizard's frustration.

"Harry," Dumbledore gently intoned, "Harry look at me please."

Harry carefully turned his head and glanced at the headmaster surprised to not only see a deep weariness but also a sorrow that made the old man look even older. Harry was grateful not to see either shame or fear in the tired eyes.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore began, "I do know what it feels like to have a foreign mind invade my own."

Dumbledore took off his bifocals and rubbed the ridge of his nose as he sighed, "It is a very difficult technique known to the Wizarding world as 'Legillimacy'. It's not truly a spell, but an incantation can help a Witch or Wizard achieve it. Once a Witch or Wizard becomes proficient in the art, all they would need to do is look into another human beings eye and they'd have instant access to that persons mind."

"But Voldemort's never been near enough to look into my eyes." Harry argued, "How can he enter my mind without eye contact?"

"Some Wizards," Dumbledore explained, "Are so proficient at the art of Legillimacy that they never need eye contact in order to tell what another person is thinking…but in you're case I fear you're scar is what created the link between you and Voldemort."

Harry looked stricken at Dumbledore's answer and stared down at the bed, "So, there's no way…" He swallowed a lump of hopelessness that was beginning to form in his throat, "No way to keep him out?"

"Well," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with his fingers folded together contemplatively, "There is a way that one can defend the mind against a Legillimens. Although I am not sure how effective it will be in you're case…you all ready used some of the very techniques that are used to defend the mind. Inserting images of dull objects to throw you're attacker off course for instance; you may have the correct aptitude to learn Occlumency."

"Occlumency?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "It requires multitasking and intense concentration but I believe you will be able to master it with some practice. In the meantime I can place a ward on you're mind until you have fully mastered the defending art. Professor Snape may be of some help in you're study--"

"No." Harry growled immediately, "He's a Death Eater, even if it is just to spy! I'm not going near him!"

Dumbledore nodded gravely, the trauma the boy had gone through at the hands of Death Eaters would make potions class very difficult within the next year. Dumbledore couldn't blame him for his animosity and distrust of Professor Snape and he wouldn't pitch the boy against the head of Slytherin if he could help it until Harry was ready to face a known Death Eater on his own. So he nodded agreeably to the boy to calm him down before speaking.

"Understandable." Dumbledore said, "Then I suppose that I will have to instruct you myself."

"Thank you professor," Harry relaxed visibly.

"Albus." Dumbledore corrected, "If you are to be my direct pupil then you will call me by my name." He smiled at Harry and was rewarded with a twitch of the corner of the boy's mouth.

"I don't know if I can." Harry said truthfully.

"Then practice!" Albus smiled, the twinkle returning for a moment before becoming serious again, "Now about your wand. I have a theory as to why it reacted as it had when you were stabbed with it, but I am going to have to research it a bit further before I am sure. I believe that the core of you're wand may have reacted with you're magical core. If I am correct, it would be the reason for the sudden change in you're magical signature as well as you're new pyro-abilities."

"How did the core of my wand react to the core of my magic exactly?" Harry asked.

"Well," Dumbledore caulked his head to the side inquisitively, "I can't be sure, of course, as no record of a Wizard being stabbed by his own wand has ever been reported…but it is my belief that the core of your wand merged with your own magical core. This would enhance your magic and change the signature as well as give you a few of the basic abilities that the core all ready possessed on it's own."

Harry stared at him wide eyed as Dumbledore nodded to himself, "Yes," Dumbledore muttered, "It would explain the fire affinity…phoenix feather was it?"

Harry nodded.

"A wand core is a curious thing on its own," Dumbledore continued, "Especially cores that come from a magical animal." He nodded to himself again, "Yes, I believe I will have to do more research before this mystery is solved." He smiled and stood, "As far as your Occlumency training goes, we will have to keep it a secret for the time being as the art is considered difficult enough to be categorized as a bordering dark ability by the ministry." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at Harry conspiringly.

"For now I will be giving you reading material to help prepare you for the training that I expect Miss Granger to tutor you in when you receive them." Dumbledore placed his wizened old hand on Harry's unruly head, "And I must ask permission to enter your mind in order to place the wards on you."

Harry nodded slowly his eyes guarded as he looked at Dumbledore, "I…trust you. I just, I'm wary of anyone else being in here." He gestured at his head, "Two people are more then enough as far as I'm concerned."

"I know my boy," Dumbledore sighed, "But in order to place the wards on your mind I need access to your thoughts so that I can be sure to keep Voldemort as far out of your head as I can possibly keep him. I will give you fair warning when I do it and I promise not to look into anything you don't want me to very closely."

Harry looked down at his hands as he thought carefully on his decision. After running through the pros and cons of allowing Dumbledore into his head he decided to allow Dumbledore to ward his mind in whatever manner Dumbledore needed to do so.

"All right," He looked into Dumbledore's sparkling blue eyes, "Do what you must."

Dumbledore nodded and sat on the bed situating himself in front of Harry so as to make better eye-contact. He placed both of his hands on the sides of Harry's head and looking into Harry's single green eyes he muttered a soft, "Legillimens" in warning.

Instantly Harry felt as though a soft breeze were caressing his thoughts quickly running through his mind. Harry's wall shimmered powerfully before his minds eyes and the breeze ran around it sparkling against the grey stone. The breeze fell into all of the cracks stretching itself protectively around Harry's mind. An oily feeling of rage began to build up too quickly for the breeze to react. Harry screamed as pain coursed through his head and down his spine as the green, burning oil pushed at the dancing breeze trying to prevent the ward from being placed. Yet the breeze held its protective position and slowly, carefully pushed the sickly presence out of Harry's mind.

Harry felt stillness, a silence in his thoughts. The warm breeze pulled itself out of Harry's mind and for the first time in three months he was just Harry. No dark influence was pushing against him for access. No foreign feelings or thoughts penetrated his mind. For once, Harry was finally, truly alone.

Harry closed his eye in relief, his mind and his thoughts thoroughly at peace.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"I am sorry that the experience was so unpleasant." Dumbledore apologized, "I'd hoped that Voldemort wouldn't be able to detect my presence, I fear he was more deeply rooted within you then I had anticipated."

Harry nodded as Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry's left shoulder, "I am glad you told me about this Harry." He looked at Harry gravely, "I fear if you had waited any longer I may not have been able to help you at all. You're training is going to have to begin immediately. The ward will only last for so long…"

Harry nodded again.

"For now though, I will let you sleep." Dumbledore stated standing up, "I will come back to visit tomorrow and you will be receiving you're books." With a swish of his bright robes and a wink Dumbledore turned and was gone.

Harry watched the old man go allowing the silence of the room and of his mind to soak into him as he fell asleep once again. This time though, it was a peaceful, undisturbed sleep; the likes of which Harry had forgotten of months ago.