A/N Here is where things finally start to heat up, and after this chapter, the whole cast will join the story and be there for the rest of the story. It gets better from here on out, so please keep reading and reviewing. I will keep updating once or twice weekly. Thanks!

Too weak to stop himself from falling, Harry fancied he had heard Dumbledore's voice. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry hit the ground no harder than if he'd fallen off a bicycle. He lay on his back, rain lashing his face, his glasses knocked crooked, looking up at Voldemort as the dark lord stared down at him. He could still see those cruel slit red eyes. Voldemort suddenly disapparated as Dumbledore bent over Harry. "Are you alright?"

"Ye, yes," Harry stammered, still in a fog, coming out of it to say, "Tyler... you've got to get Tyler out of there!" But Tyler was already looking out of the window horror stricken, trying to see Harry through the fogged up bubble head.

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "I have to leave you now. Stay with Tyler. Professor Snape is coming for you." Dumbledore disapparated, going after Voldemort, Harry surmised. He sat up, too weak to stand, thinking again, 'Professor Snape is coming for you'... ' Coming AFTER me is more like it.'

Tyler came running out of the building like it was on fire, and for all Harry knew, it could very well have been. He felt like at least the fight was over for now. Realizing, somewhat relieved, that at least this time, he hadn't felt the dark lord's emotions, despite even having been touched by Voldemort. This time, he had no idea what the dark lord felt, as he had in previous contacts, making him feel as though he'd gone mad. Still, he hadn't come out unscathed even this time. Harry felt his wand useless to his touch. He didn't have the strength to get up. He laid back down, feeling the rain drench him once more as more funnel clouds touched down around the streets nearby. Harry doubted now that he could raise his head even if a puddle deep enough to drown him developed under his head, which was a distinct possibility.

"Harry, You're alive!" an overjoyed but puzzled Tyler exclaimed. "What happened. Who was that? What's going on?"

Tyler was hysterical. Harry forced himself up for his sake. They still needed to take shelter from the tornadoes. Harry did not need to hide the Firebolt anymore. There was just no use now. Whatever memory charms had to be performed on Tyler later, Harry just couldn't help. He had to get them both safely out of there as the storms picked up brutally. Harry figured on taking Tyler to back to clinic, depositing him in the basement and returning to wait for Professor Snape, but the weather had other plans.

There was one funnel cloud that reminded Harry of Dobby's bludger of a few years back, which had been charmed to follow exclusively him. Harry had first though it a coincidence, but when he dodged the funnel cloud several times by changing directions, the cloud would than level buildings indiscriminately and resume their course towards the Firebolt. Harry couldn't sacrifice hundreds if not thousands of lives for two. He headed for an empty field. He could not use his wand. The funnel cloud wasn't as large as many of them had been, but if he didn't keep both hands tightly on his broom, he would be blown off with Tyler holding onto his waist, face buried in Harry's back.

Harry looked down as lightening streaked across the sky. He glimpsed a black cloaked figure raising a wand and suddenly the funnel cloud burst into one large flat wind gust and levelled off , just as it was about to overtake the Firebolt and swallow them up for good. The cloaked figure on the ground looked up as the Firebolt came crashing down to a stop beneath a large tree, which cracked at the base at the same time. Harry had just enough time to push Tyler out of the way as the tree snapped, branches falling on his chest and legs as he felt twigs searing across his face.

Harry could only gasp short pitiful breaths, which gave him almost no air. He couldn't feel his legs. He tasted blood. Tyler was thoroughly overwrought as a figure in a dark cloak approached. Fearing this person to be another enemy like the one he had just experienced in Voldemort, Tyler stood protectively, but frightened over Harry's trapped body, knowing that there was little he could really do if this person proved to have evil intentions. Through fogged vision and trickles of blood in his eyes, Harry could make out who it was that had come to them, Professor Snape. Snape knew immediately that Harry was seriously injured and assured him that he would get the fallen limbs off him right away.

Tyler somehow sensed that the man meant no harm as far as he could tell and that Harry must know him from somewhere, but still he shouted,"No! You'll kill him!" Tyler grabbed Snape, who had just aimed his wand at Harry and tried to fight him off valiantly.

"Get off me boy, or he will die!" said an agitated Snape, throwing off Tyler as easily as swatting a fly.

"I'm telling you!" Tyler shouted getting right back in Snape's face. "You can't remove both branches. You can loosen the one on his chest, but if you remove the one on his legs, you'll kill him. He'll bleed to death. The weight of that branch is the only thing holding the blood in. Harry was strangely aware of these proceedings. As much as he wanted to be free, he knew Tyler was telling the truth for some reason.

"Pro—Professor Snape-ahhh!" he half sobbed, as the pain from the attempt to speak took hold. "I—Listen to him-He knows." Harry knew that Tyler had been trying to make Snape obey him desperately, but even if Tyler could somehow mind talk to animals, it wouldn't work on humans, least of all Snape, who had been taught occlulmency to shut one's mind off from being read or controlled. Harry couldn't believe that Snape seemed panicked. Harry dimly wondered if Tyler had been successful. Snape had never taken orders from a school aged child before.

Through his own blinding pain, Harry could see that Snape had been doing battle with someone . His potions master walked with a limp and had unhealed cuts and bruises on his face and hands which were the only parts of him not covered with robes. Snape ran his hands through his greasy black hair nervously. Tyler knelt down next to Harry and put his hand on the only part of Harry's chest sticking out from under the log. He stood up with frustrated tears on his face. "I can't do anything for him-I can't do anything..."

Harry had drawn his last breath. He was passing out, hearing gurgling noises from his own mouth. Professor Snape, having made up his mind, blasted the log off Harry's chest, but left the log on his legs, deciding to believe Tyler for reasons he couldn't explain even to himself. Harry spluttered back into consciousness . He needed to cough, but he couldn't. His eyes were bulging. He could feel his lungs were filling with liquid, not air and he could feel himself drown. Harry had never seen Snape like this before. So unsure of himself, so panicked. He wondered why Snape wasn't helping him, than he thought, 'of course, he is just waiting for Voldemort to come and finish me off.'

But Snape did not have the posture of someone waiting to see him die. Snape seemed to be talking very fast, almost apologetically. "Harry, you know I am not a healer. I can't save you." He sounded like a student, explaining why he had failed a test to a teacher. Snape drew a flask from his cloak and poured some of the contents into Harry's mouth. Harry drew a full but painful breath.

Harry was becoming delirious looking up at Snape and Tyler. He felt himself go back to his first year, writing down Snape's lessons, heard Snape quote the list of things potions classes could teach and one stayed in his memory..."and even put a stopper in death." But Harry knew that the stopper in death he had no doubt just been given, usually only worked for a little while until real help arrived. He panicked now. "Spare your strength now Harry," Tyler ordered him , touching his shoulder and Harry calmed somewhat, though he didn't know why.

"Professor," Harry pleaded, "Please get me out of here." The pain was so intense from the weight of the great log on his battered body, that Harry no longer cared if he bled to death from having it removed improperly.

"Harry," Snape replied trying, but failing to sound soothing. For one thing, it had to be a bad sign that he had called Harry by his first name. "If I try to remove that log, it will kill you. This boy knows what he's talking about. I have seen it in his mind." This had astounded Harry, but Tyler knew it all along, for Snape had not read Tyler's mind, rather Tyler had forced his mind on Snape's.

Fearing that Voldemort would at any moment come out of the bushes to kill him, he said desperately, "But you can't leave me here!" The pain was engulfing him now and whatever Snape had given him to ease his breathing was wearing off. "You have to get help, please Professor. Get Madame Pomfrey, even someone else, please!" He choked now, going silent and ashen faced, almost ready to face his inevitable death.

Somehow feeling that Harry deserved an explanation, Snape revealed to him his worst fears. "I have been instructed not to leave you, under any circumstances. You do not understand, Harry. He knows you're dying." There, he'd said what Harry had known since had felt his ribs crushing in his chest. "Would I to bring you any closer to death, by attempting to move you, which this child believes I would, the Dark Lord will risk turning his back on his duel with Dumbledore to come here and finish you off. You cannot fight further. The dark lord knows this. Were it not for the headmaster, he would be here already. I cannot leave you to get help. Should Voldemort evade Dumbledore, I will be the only thing standing between you and a swift death blow. I could only give you a few more minutes of life before I too would be killed, but I have my orders."

Harry couldn't believe that Snape had sworn allegiance to protect him at his own peril. He felt perhaps Snape was just hanging around to finish him off, and this was why he would not free him from the logs. If death was coming tonight, Harry wished it would come soon. He would rather be blasted into oblivion than laying here like a sitting duck.

Harry lurched violently, falling into convulsions. He was dying-now. Snape leaned over him, forcing his eyes open. He stared down at Harry, uttering something Harry could not hear, nor did he want to. His last breath drawn, he saw one last fleeting glimpse of Tyler and Snape, who had laid their hands roughly on him and both seemed grimly resolved in what they were about to do. Snape invaded Harry's mind just as he had started to accept death and even feel at peace with it. So warm and pain free Harry had been, that he was furious when he heard Snape calling him back, forcing his mind open just as he had done in occlumency lessons.

Harry tried to ignore Snape's orders for him to fight. He just didn't want to. He wanted to sleep. Let the world take care of itself, he couldn't do it anymore. Destiny had chosen the wrong boy, he convinced himself, allowing himself at least a guilt free death. He had not stepped forward to lead the fight against the dark lord. It had been thrust on him, an innocent infant, fifteen years ago. The last time Harry had seen a clock, it had been eleven thirty. It must be passed midnight now. 'At least I didn't die on my birthday...' he faded further until into his head came a voice.

"Young sapling," an ancient voice called inside his head. It was the tree that lay across his legs, and it too was dying. " I am old and worn. It is time for me to leave my place to my seeds and join my forefathers in the forever forest." Harry heard creaking and groaning and suddenly he was moved to tears. Harry who still appeared dead to Tyler and Snape, felt a single tear fall across his cheek from his eyes. "Young sapling, you must listen to those who call you back. It is not time for you to stop sprouting leaves and go to your forefathers. Go back young sapling." Harry's delirium had him seeing many things including Snape and Tyler inside his mind. In his dreamlike state, Harry felt Tyler struggle to restart his now silent heart.

"Leave me alone, you're hurting me." Tyler took his hands off Harry and the pain left again, leaving the peace of death rushing back into Harry. "Don't feel bad Tyler. You didn't fail." Tyler's face was buried in his hands.

Harry, now pain free, but guilt ridden, heard the ancient voice speak again. "If you do not go back, his gift will be lost. He will never use it again. Tyler has never been able to heal human kind before, but the animals of this forest speak his praises to their young. Tyler cannot wholly heal you, but if you will fight, he might be able to keep you green until a human healer comes."

"You don't know what it's like. I can't go back. I won't."

"Think you, young sapling that I live in peace all the days of my life? Always there are humans polluting, plotting homes for themselves while usurping their fellow creatures from their homes without regards to see that they share some land with us? For as long as humans have inhabited this place, always the axe has stood above our heads while the humans decide our merits for their own purposes, and what is worse, that they face their own future peril with as little regard. No one can live a good life if they live it only for themselves, Harry Potter," and he was gone.

"Wait! I need to ask you something!" But now Harry was alone in this place.

Snape broke violently into Harry's brain. "Potter! I have not spent what little I may have left of my life for you to die like this. I will not be blamed! You will not ignore me!" Snape would not leave him in peace, Harry felt like Snape had the imperious curse on him. 'Blamed by Dumbledore for allowing me to get killed, or blamed by Voldemort for letting me die without it being at his hands, ruining his prophecy?" Harry wondered if he'd just died, if it would make the prophecy null and void and Voldemort would gain no strength, not having technically done the job of killing Harry himself. Now Harry felt even more angry at being called back. Tyler had been stunned back into action by Snape's shouting. Once again, he laid his hands on Harry's chest.

Harry felt like someone was stabbing him over and over again, the stabs coming with each and every painful heartbeat. His heart had been restarted. His voice didn't work as well as the mind speaking he had been doing, but he managed to get out what was on his mind. "You—" he choked in sobs, "I hate you. I swear if I live, I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

Snape, who was now goading Harry into more conversation to keep him conscious, replied, "Mr. Potter, I have no pleasure in nursing you. If it were up to me, I would leave you here to rot." Harry heard these words, but he thought Snape looked very relieved.

A helicopter appeared in the sky, and Harry who was just clinging to consciousness, became alarmed. The helicopter had landed in a space conveniently, maybe too conveniently made by the storm. Five people emerged, carrying loads of equipment towards them. Snape, who had not expected this, threw his cloak off into the bushes, apparently trying to disguise himself. "What happened?" a man who appeared to be a flight doctor asked Snape, as if the tree on top of Harry wasn't explanation enough.

"My son has been trapped under this log for over an hour."

"He's not your—"Tyler had begun as a mysterious coughing spell shut him up. Harry was very out of it now from blood loss and pain. He had assumed he had been dreaming again when Snape had claimed him for a son. He had tried to sound like a concerned parent, and if Harry hadn't known better, it sounded genuine.

The doctor examined Harry, all the while unbeknownst to him, with Snape's wand directed at his back.. He spoke in hushed tones to the paramedics, who were wiring Harry up to all sorts of machinery. They ripped his shirt open and put patches on his chest which were hooked to electronic wires to keep track of Harry's vital signs, which were failing fast. Harry had seen all this done on television, but Snape looked repulsed.

From Snape's point of view, he watched the muggles draw out a large long needle, attach it to a bag of some liquid (Snape wondered what potion this would be. None of the curative potions of any real strength were clear, he thought to himself) As they inserted the needle into Harry's forearm, explaining that it would help to keep Harry from going into shock again, a female paramedic mistook Snape's revulsion at their methods for concern for Harry and told him sympathetically that Harry was in very good hands. Harry felt nothing, but Snape did look concerned, and very green. Suddenly, Harry convulsed again, feeling his chest explode, as his eyes rolled back in his head..

"Desist!" Snape had pointed his wand at the muggles, but of course the act was lost on them, not knowing what a wand was. Snape, not knowing what a defibrilator was, thought Harry was being attacked. Tyler sprang up, grabbing Snape's wand arm down, and telling him that they were only trying to save Harry. They had to restart Harry's heart. Wham! Snape watched in horror as Harry's entire body jerked from the jolt of electricity the paramedics had just chorused into his heart. Harry's breaths were painful. He felt burnt. He struggled to speak. Why were they torturing him?"

Snape seemed shocked into inaction. He was listening to the beeps from the machine recording Harry's heartbeat, ignoring all else. Harry was now straining to hear a conversation between his muggle rescuers. He distinctly heard the words,'double amputation,' followed by, 'no other way,' and 'probably couldn't be saved even if performed at a hospital.' Snape was jarred back out of his silent panic by the increase in beeps from the machine. Harry was panicking. They were going to cut his legs off!

"Sir," We need a word," said a worried paramedic, leading Snape by the arm gently a little away from Harry's hearing range. Harry turned his head to see Snape sign a form and go to the edge of the woods to vomit. He was not a healer like Madame Pomphrey, he just did what he had to do.

"Tyler!" Harry ripped off the oxygen mask.

"I'm here Harry," Tyler soothed with tears running down his face.

"Save me, please Tyler. I know what you did to the animals at the clinic. Please don't let them take my legs." Harry knew wizarding medicine could regrow bones, but not entire limbs once they were severed from the body. He thought of Mad Eye Moody's wooden stump. At least Mad Eye had one leg.

"Please Tyler, just do whatever you did for that hurt fox."

"Harry my healing was only just enough to save your life and keep your heart beating as best I could. I've never been able to heal more than a scratch on a human before, but with you it was different. I reached your heart. Your heart's like a lion's heart. That's the only reason I could help at all, but you're mostly human-I just can't help you as much for some reason. It's not like anything else I've done. It's like you're part animal...but not enough for me to reach you fully. I tried Harry, you've got to believe me, I tried," Tyler explained in a pained voice, desperately trying to make Harry understand, as Harry hysterically began ripping the patches off his chest, gasping for breath and pleading desperately with someone to tell him what was going on. "Tell me the truth, Tyler—please, They're not gonna take my legs are they?" Harry struggled with the paramedics as much as he could, knowing what they were about to do to him.

"Oh, Harry! They've gotta do it! I-I can't fix them all. I tried. All your main arteries in your legs are crushed. They can't get you out without cutting-I know you're wizards now," Tyler said, indicating Snape and himself. "You shouldn't be so hard on him." Tyler meant Snape. "He's telling the truth. I saw it in his mind. He's not a healer. He would save them if he could, but he can't remove that log from off your legs. It's the only thing keeping you from bleeding to death. He's a potion's master, Harry. He really doesn't know how to save them."

"But-but I want to play Quidditch." Harry was just a frightened child now, not a wizard, not a grown up. As if giving Harry's 'dad' time with his son, the doctor cleared his throat, indicating that he was ready. Contact had been made with the hospital and the flight doctor was in contact with a vascular surgeon, ready to begin the gruesome task.

"Give us another minute." Snape sounded raspy and faint. He seemed to want to say something. "Look Harry, I know I've been hard on you." He sounded almost apologetic, even remorseful. "You have endured it and everything else that has been thrown at you. You will play Quidditch. You will walk—somehow."

"Yeah, like Mad Eye. My jaw's broken too," said Harry, only now just realizing this as yet a different mask was placed over his mouth, causing blinding pain to engulf his face. "Are you going to sign a form to have my face cut off too?" Snape who usually flew into a rage at even the first signs of cheek from a student, squeezed Harry's hand.

"Believe me, If there were any other way..." Snape told him desperately, getting ready for the inevitable.

"Deatheater-Liar!" Harry was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Snape looked like he wanted to comfort him, but had no idea what to say, so as to instil a little more fight in Harry, he leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear.

"Potter! Don't you dare let the headmaster down. You have no idea what he—what we've all had to do—I promise you, if you give up and allow yourself to die..." As if he had any choice in the matter, "I will make the remaining Hogwarts years of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger more excruciating than you can imagine, and I'll be happy to tell them that you thought of yourself only, to curl up and die like the coward you are. Like your father!" Harry knew with this statement that Snape was just goading him into fighting for his life, for even the heartless potion's master, knew that Harry's father had died trying to save Harry from the dark lord. Harry wanted to retort, but he was now restrained firmly and a fog was enveloping his senses.

Harry sank back now, giving up. He heard Tyler trying to give medical instructions to the doctor and the paramedics, who were patronizing him, but paying no attention. They advanced on Harry with their surgical masks on and Harry likened them to deatheaters. One of them told him he would be fine, which Harry was sure they had told many of their dead patients. "Now just try to relax." He could not believe they said this. Harry was struggling desperately now. Trying to buy himself more time, he pulled out his intravenous lines. The medics summoned Snape to try to calm him, while they once again hooked up the iv. For a Deatheater, Snape was very squeamish, and he did not look while this procedure was done. His oxygen mask was replaced by a new one with a curious smell. Harry could just see the label on the cannister. They were anaesthetising him. "Harry, just let go. Count backwards from ten."Harry tried to hold his breath, but he inhaled involuntarily when someone jabbed him with yet another syringe and he thought he heard Snape say. "Is that entirely necessary?"

"Please-stop-no—seven six five f-" Harry fell into nothingness, than dreams took him, first to evil places from his past, than, to one place he'd called home. People were pointing and staring at him, just like they had Mad Eye Moody. His legs from the knees down were pegs like Mad Eye Moody. Madame Pomfrey was talking to Ron as though Harry wasn't there. "Of course if he'd been brought to me first..." This was the same thing she had said after Professor Lockhart had made the bones in his arm disappear in a bungled attempt to heal Harry's broken arm in his third year. He thought he'd put in a bad night that night.

Madame Pomfrey continued much in the same manner. "Those barbarians had even wired his jaw shut. I managed to mend that but his face will be disfigured for awhile." Harry, at sixteen was a typical teenage boy, worried about even a breakout of acne. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he shattered it with his wand. The dream continued.

Harry was sitting in the great hall. The weird sisters were singing. Ron and Hermione were dancing, leaving Harry, who hadn't mastered his peg legs alone, watching...Ginny looked at him sympathetically as she danced by with Neville.

Now Harry was angry with Neville. " This could've been you if he'd chosen you!" he screamed to Neville, regarding the fact that Neville had come close to being the one of whom the prophecy spoke, the one who would be forced to kill Voldemort or be killed himself. The prophecy had spoken of two boys, born at the end of July, whose parents had three times thwarted the dark lord. Two boys had fit this description and Voldemort had marked Harry as his equal, making the prophecy Harry's own. Harry had pounded his thighs in his anger, causing his pegs to fall off, at which point the three Slytherins, Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle took advantage of the opportunity to antagonize him. They playfully limped around him, mocking him. Ginny tried to stop them but Harry yelled at her that he didn't need her pity and she turned away crying.

One dream faded to another. It was summer now. He was at the Dursleys. Here, he wore prosthetic limbs. Aunt Petunia couldn't stand any stares of curiosity, even if they were from a sympathetic neighbour who had just learned of his 'accident'. Aunt Petunia had told everyone who would listen that Harry had crashed a car while taking a driving lesson at school. Aunt Marge on the other hand had been told that Harry had crashed a stolen car while trying to escape from St. Brutus's Secure School for incurably criminal boys. "What are you supposed to do with him now?" Aunt Marge had written. "He's not even good for chores now." He left that dream, not very much surprised at the way things had worked out at number four Privet Drive.

Now, Harry was at a job interview, slightly older than he was now. "I'm sorry, son. Your grades are outstanding. You received more O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S. than even Hermione Granger, but to be an auror..." Harry knew what was coming next. "Well, it's a very physical job and with your obvious..." He indicated Harry's missing legs.

Harry didn't know where the dreams ended and reality began, but his eyelids felt like lead. His whole body hurt like someone had thrashed him to within an inch of his life, and for all he knew, they had. With a thrill of horror, he realized he could not open his eyes. They were taped shut. He heard whispered voices, but could not speak as he now felt a tube down his throat. He couldn't feel his legs. Someone was moving him. He thought he'd heard the word apparate, but no he was on a stretcher. He could hear the helicopter's whirling blades and felt the choppy winds.

Harry had never been a fan of anything that flew that didn't have magic in it. In perfect health, this flight would have made him extremely nervous. Now, however still under severe sedation, he just tried to hear the conversation over the loud chopper blades. He felt he had entered yet another dream. Dumbledore was here. The strange bits of conversation he could pick up, started as follows with Dumbledore addressing Snape. "I agree Harry needs to go St.Mungos immediately, but there is the problem with his having been treated by muggles. People in such serious condition generally have a higher percentage of survival when left to muggle medicine than if we try to switch them over to wizarding medicine. If only we'd gotten here sooner they would not have had to..."

"What? What!" Harry screamed desperately to himself. Would not have what!"

"But headmaster he will surely die left to these..." Harry could almost picture Snape glaring at the muggles, "people."

"As dire as his condition is, Severus I would normally have to agree with you that the medical care should change to wizarding methods. Right now the switch from muggle means to wizarding methods is almost worth taking the risk, however," Dumbledore paused and Harry could not believe that he would consider making Harry endure Muggle procedures rather than risk taking him off all these machines and simply getting a mediwizard to patch him up...well, what was left of him anyway. 'Dumbledore should know I would survive the reversal of care methods,' Harry thought angrily.

"However," Dumbledore continued after the long pause, Voldemort now knows that Harry only just clings to life. He can feel the weakness, feel his life leaving him. He will no doubt have put sensory charms all around St. Mungos. He will be looking for any unusual activity or stir up of activity around any wizarding medical facility, and he will sense it. There is still the connection..." Dumbledore sighed as what he said next went against any bonds he had with Harry. "Therefore, Harry will be treated in the normal muggle fashion." The gavel had fallen. Harry felt like Dumbledore had just sentenced him to death. He gained what hope was rashioned out with the next statement. Was Snape showing off for Dumbledore or had he just come up with a brilliant scheme?

"Headmaster, might I suggest that Mr. Potter be brought to St. Mungos in case the worst should happen with the muggle medicine. A concealment charm could be placed around a certain portion of the building, so as to throw off anyone searching for the boy, we could spell a wing of St. Mungos into a muggle facility. This is not what he would be looking for." Snape said this with the amount of knowledge in his voice to convince Dumbledore that he of course would know what Voldemort would be searching for. Voldemort would of course expect nothing but the best for Harry Potter and that meant wizard care. "Agreed, Professor." Harry had assumed that Dumbledore and Snape had been talking in a silencing spell so as not to agitate the muggles. He now listened as the two wizards placed memory charms on the medics and the doctors so they would remember nothing of this night, and Harry too, fell into nothingness.