Author Notes: Thank you again for your reviews, PMs, alerts and favourites. This is proving to be a nerve wracking challenge indeed so I humbly present the next chapter and hope that it satisfies.

Appreciation: Again, my grateful thanks to Vine Verrine for her encouragement and for keeping me on my 'Path of Destiny' :) In other words, reminding me that The Marriage Stone is not made up of Snarry, Snarry and just Snarry but a whole lot more. Thank you, dear. I daresay I will need to be reminded every so often on this one :D

- Chapter Start -

Harry awoke from a sound sleep about four hours later. His head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool and his eyelids appeared to be glued shut. Eventually, he managed to open his eyes and look around him. He had swallowed only a couple of mouthfuls of the Dreamless Sleep potion that Dobby had brought him since he was already half asleep by then. The last thing he remembered was someone carefully lowering his head onto the pillow and Severus holding his hand. He was alone now though. The room was silent and he could sense that even the main ward outside was quiet.

With a sigh, he shifted on the bed, tentatively rolling his head and shoulders before moving his limbs. He was still weak but mentally, he felt better. More alert. The thick fog of exhaustion that had clouded his mind ever since he woke up seemed to have finally lifted. The room was far too quiet though. Harry felt faintly claustrophobic, as if he had stayed here too long. Perhaps a walk to stretch his legs a bit? Madam Pomfrey hadn't discharged him but he wouldn't be breaking any rules as long as he stayed inside the Infirmary. Besides, it didn't sound as if there was anyone outside. The hallways and corridors of Hogwarts were usually teeming with students but Harry couldn't hear a thing where he was. The silence made him feel rather cut off from the world which was strange since he usually treasured his privacy. He slowly pushed himself to sit up. The room spun around him and he froze. He waited half a minute before moving again, carefully swinging his legs to the side of the bed. The room didn't move this time - good. Perhaps the unfamiliar lethargy in his limbs was a side effect of the Dream walking or whatever it was that he had done and his body just needed a bit of time to adapt.

Where was everyone anyway?

Harry found that he suddenly longed for company. He glanced at the rectangles of sunlight on the wall. It was probably late afternoon now but he felt cold. A shiver ran up his spine and distressing memories pushed against the edge of his consciousness. He ignored them. He stood up, the stone floor cold and hard beneath the soles of his feet. Taking a step forward, he swayed and quickly wrapped his arms tightly around his middle. No, he probably just needed some food and he would be fine. Harry took a deep breath and shuffled towards the door. One step... two... but his memories were adamant and somehow, he just couldn't hold them back any longer. They reared up in his mind and surrounded him all at once, pressing in on him from all sides. He tried hard to push them back, tried to stop them from breaking loose and overwhelming him but he couldn't. The memories were all about darkness and evil and death. There were more of them now, impossible to hold back and infinitely more painful than before.

The deaths from the battle last year, comprising Death Eaters and Aurors. They were compounded by the deaths of innocent residents in that Hogsmeade attack many months ago. Then more deaths arising from the recent attack of the Elder Demon on the Quidditch pitch. So many already dead... but this latest disaster! This was undoubtedly, infinitely worse. The death toll had suddenly increased so sharply, so dramatically that Harry's mind balked in sheer horror at the numbers. Thousands dead - tens of thousands, likely more.

Oh God. How long more would this continue? How much more could he take?

Harry shuddered and closed his eyes. He was freezing but something hot was clawing inside his chest and up his throat, fighting to get out. He swallowed again and again, refusing to let it escape. The screams of the dead echoed relentlessly in his mind; he tried not to listen to them. Their pale faces with their empty eyes were staring at him; he tried to look away. He couldn't. They were a part of him, they were inside him and they would never leave him. Old deaths and new ones. Those he hadn't had a chance to save for they had died the moment Voldemort cast his deadly spell. They were the ones who were not in their beds or safe in their homes when it happened. It didn't matter that they were Muggles. He was a King. He had a duty to perform. He had responsibilities to carry out. Keeping people safe was one of them. It was his duty to save them but he had failed. He had failed them all and their deaths would be his penance. They would remain with him all his life. The ones he couldn't touch. Couldn't reach. Couldn't save.

Harry screwed his eyes shut tighter as the hot liquid in his chest swelled and rose in his throat. He retched. Clapping one hand to his mouth, he staggered towards the door, his stomach roiling. He felt physically ill but there was nothing to throw up. He wrenched the door open and stumbled of the room, blinded by tears that stung his eyes. There, his strength gave out and he fell onto his knees on the cold stone floor.

- o -

Michael and Anna Granger held a brightly colored sock between them. They looked at Hermione and gave her a final wave and smile before vanishing from sight a moment later. Hermione sighed, her hand still lifted in a gesture of farewell, her mother's kiss on her cheek still fresh in her mind.

"So, that's everyone gone home, yeah?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded and smiled at him. Hogwarts had been a hive of activity since early morning. Some of the students had gone back to their dorms to catch up on badly needed rest but there were still plenty to help with the clearing of the makeshift wards set up throughout the castle and getting the Muggles ready to use the portkeys. The brightly coloured socks had been reset to deliver them safely to their homes so many requested to be sent directly into their living rooms to avoid startling any neighbours by simply appearing in front of them.

Hermione's parents were the last guests to leave, having stayed back to help their daughter and the other students with tasks that couldn't be performed by magic. By late afternoon, they were anxious to go back and see to their patients and staff, their dental clinics and home, not to mention rescheduling appointments and catching up with themselves. Hermione had promised to send them back as soon as they had something to eat - she had a good guess as to the amount of work waiting for them and knew that the moment her parents went back, food would be the last thing on their minds. Ron had wanted to go check on Harry but since Hermione wanted to see him too, he decided to go up to Gryffindor Tower first to look for the Weasley twins and Ginny while Hermione enjoyed some time alone with her parents. They would then drop by the Infirmary after the Grangers left.

- o -

"You've been great," Hermione said quietly as she and Ron walked down the corridor leading to the Infirmary a few minutes later. Ron looked at her in surprise, even comically glancing behind him for confirmation that she was talking to him. Hermione smiled at him and he puffed out his chest, one long arm going around her shoulders.

"Yeah?" he said. His tone was offhand but his eyes begged for more. Hermione stopped the giggle that wanted to escape from her lips.

"Yes. You handled those urinary catheters like a pro," she teased and the giggle escaped when Ron's smile was replaced by a grimace.

"You mean when I dropped the entire tray?" he muttered. Hermione's lips twitched but she nodded as gravely as she could.

"While taking them to be emptied. Yes," she managed before bursting out laughing. Ron laughed along with her, his face almost as red as his hair. When they finally weaved their way to the Infirmary doors and peeped in, they found only the two marked Slytherin students in a deep sleep, still tied to their beds. Madam Pomfrey popped her head out of her office room to see who had come in.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," she smiled and waved them in. "Mr. Potter was still sleeping the last time I checked. Could you two sit with him for a while? I'm in the midst of taking inventory of the potions I have left, everything's in a mess..."

"It's all right, Madam Pomfrey. We were planning on doing just that," Hermione assured her. The medi witch nodded before disappearing back into her office. Ron looked around, frowning.

"Where are Brand's men?"

Hermione shrugged and started towards Harry's room.

"Probably gone to have a bite to eat. They've been -"

She gasped in horror.

"Harry!"

Then she and Ron were racing to the end of the ward where Harry was kneeling on the floor with his head down and his arms tightly wrapped around himself. He didn't seem aware of their presence as they dropped to their knees in front of him.

"Harry, what is it? Are you all right?" Hermione sounded frantic as she clasped Harry's face in her hands and raised it. His eyes were closed and he was shivering almost violently, tears streaming silently down his face.

"We're here, mate. We've got you," Ron murmured. He pulled the other boy to his feet, Hermione following quickly. The two of them tugged Harry over to the nearest bed and sank onto it, Hermione and Ron on either side of him, the way they so often sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Without a word, they closed their arms around Harry's shaking form and enfolded him in their embrace.

"It's OK, Harry, it's OK," Hermione whispered. Her heart was breaking for her friend. There was just too much going on in his life, it was overwhelming. He didn't deserve the responsibilities or the nightmares. Harry had always hated being in the spotlight and things would only get worse from now on. How long had he been alone like this with no one to comfort him? Where was Severus? Or Sirius? Remus? Harry shouldn't have been left alone! She looked at Ron, worry and distress showing on her face. Ron gave a small helpless shrug at her.

"It's OK. We're here," he said and strangely enough, his words soothed Hermione just a little. They might not be able to stop Harry's nightmares but they were here for him and they always would be.

It took some time for Harry to stop shaking. Hermione was on the verge of going to get Madam Pomfrey but Ron shook his head. He knew of Harry's nightmares. There wasn't really anything Madam Pomfrey could do and Harry already took more potions than anyone else. The only thing he needed right now was comfort from those he loved and trusted. Ron spared a fleeting thought for Professor Snape but dismissed it just as quickly. Bloody hell, they had known Harry for a lot longer than Snape had. So what if the man had held Harry's hand earlier? He wasn't going to offer a hug, was he? Not that Harry would want one from his bond mate. Ron's mind flitted back to the kiss that had been published in the Daily Prophet but shrugged it off. Professor Snape might know how to kiss - Ron shuddered at the very thought - but he most likely had no idea how to hug.

Eventually, Harry calmed down. He stirred a little and that was the signal for Ron and Hermione to release him.

"You OK there?" Ron asked quietly. Harry nodded, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Yeah. Thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse. Ron nodded, ruffling his hair.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. It was a stupid question, really. Of course Harry wasn't OK. But she didn't know what else to say. Harry turned to smile wanly at her, his eyes reddened.

"I'm fine. Thanks, you two," he whispered. Hermione gave him a brief, fierce hug.

"Did you have a nightmare, Harry?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

"No, I'd taken Dreamless Sleep. Dobby brought some down for me. But I woke up and felt hungry so I thought I'd go look - and then I remembered - so many people - I didn't even know them. They're dead - I couldn't touch them..."

Harry's voice was soft, halting. He looked down at the floor when he spoke but when his head jerked up towards Ron, they were filled with anguish.

"How many more are going to die, Ron? How can I save everyone? I have no idea what he's going to do next!" He clenched his fists, his face contorted with pain. Hermione squeezed his shoulder, trying to offer comfort.

"But Harry, you can get inside his mind. You told us what was going to happen!"

Harry gave a bitter, mirthless laugh and shook his head.

"Fat lot of good that does! I only know like two seconds before it happens. It's too late by then! It's always too late!"

His voice was bitter and frustrated.

"It's like -" he struggled to find words. "It's like he's playing with us and we can't catch up! I only know when it's about to happen and there's nothing I can do!" He made a frustrated gesture with his hands. "We can only pick up the pieces. Nothing more."

This time, it was Ron who looked helplessly at Hermione as he slung his arm around Harry. She bit her lip and leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, her hand going up to rest over Ron's.

"Then that's what we'll do, Harry," she said softly. "Pick up the pieces as best we can."

Harry exhaled and dipped his head but he didn't pull away from them. Ron and Hermione's closeness and warmth felt good. Familiar, comforting and so... right. He was grateful for their friendship and their trust. It had sustained him throughout the years. They might not be able to fight off Voldemort but they would always stay by his side. Harry sighed, feeling drained and empty. The darkness inside him had had its way with him. When he forced it back down, it didn't resist, content to reside in his sub consciousness again.

After a minute of silence, Ron cleared his throat and spoke.

"You know, we were so busy getting the Muggles here from their homes and setting up beds and all... we didn't have time to think of what all of this meant. Plus we were falling asleep on our feet. But it's... big, you know? I mean You-Know-Who's always been bad and all, but this is... this is huge. I mean, what else can he do? There's no way he can even top this!"

Harry didn't say anything but Hermione lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at Ron.

"If you're trying to make us feel better, Ron -" she began and broke off when Harry gave a soft chuckle.

"It's OK, 'Mione. I know what he's getting at."

Harry sighed again and gently shrugged off their embrace. He stood up and turned around to face them, his green eyes intense.

"It's true, isn't it? Why did he do such a thing? Does he honestly want to wipe out the entire world? Six billion people? It doesn't make sense at all.'

Ron shook his head.

"Mate, like he's ever made sense," he said feelingly. Harry frowned at him but continued speaking.

"Like the Elder Demon - why would he do that? What had he found out in Salazar's Books of Dark? And there's going to be more, he said that to me himself. But why? Why destroy the world and populate it with monsters? It would the end of the world! He can't force demons and monsters to listen to him!

Ron folded his arms and frowned.

"Gone right batty, he has," he muttered darkly. "Completely mental."

Hermione was staring intently at Harry. He nodded at her.

"That Elder Demon on the Quidditch pitch. When I was fighting it, it looked at me and it got inside my mind. There was a - a dark memory inside me. That's why I was wandering around in a daze the following day, it was like there was this thick fog inside my mind. My body was trying to protect me but I couldn't think!"

Hermione nodded slowly, comprehension dawning on her face.

"So that's why you seemed so out of it the time. We didn't realise, Harry," she murmured. Harry nodded again. She noted that his gaze was sharp and focused now but he looked tense and in pain.

"Severus got rid of it for me," he explained and turned to pace back and forth alongside the bed. His feet were still bare but he seemed oblivious of the coldness of the floor.

"But if Voldemort's been summoning demons and looking at them and talking to them..." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"Then he's completely and irreversibly batty," Ron summarised in the same dark tone as before. He raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"Am I right?"

With a sigh, she nodded. There was no other explanation for what he did. Harry stopped pacing and came over to the bed. This time, he sat at the foot of the bed and sat cross legged so that he could face both his friends.

"We have to stop him," he whispered, his eyes filled with pain. "Otherwise more and more people will end up dead."

Hermione stared at him. He was the same age as them but while his face looked young - while she thought of him as young - his eyes looked simply far too old. They had seen too much. She sighed.

"You know, Harry," she began carefully, "in actuality, the number of deaths reported is not much greater than the casualties suffered in a natural disaster such as a tsunami, flood or earthquake."

Harry shook his head slowly as if the movement itself was painful.

"This is different," he whispered. "This isn't a natural disaster. Voldemort cast the spell deliberately. I saw the sigils drawn on the ground. He knew what damage this spell would cause and yet, he did it."

He got off the bed and turned his back on them, his arms hanging limply by his side. He had no idea how to fight Voldemort or to even prepare for the next devastation he chose to wreck upon them.

"What if he tries something like this again?" he whispered. Hermione stood up and walked around him so that she could look into his face.

"Then we'll fight back," she replied, her voice sure and strong as she hugged him. "All of us."

"All of us. Together," Ron echoed as he came up from behind, his arms enfolding Hermione as well as Harry.

"Thank you," Harry whispered. They held onto each other for a long moment before breaking apart, now smiling a little sheepishly at one another. Ron shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, casting for a way to lighten the somber mood while Hermione dabbed furtively at her eyes.

"Hey, where're your Viking bodyguards? Did you give them the day off or something?"

Harry shook his head with a small smile.

"Well, Dumbledore doesn't think that Voldemort will attack again so soon so he sent them back to the Winterlands by portkey. They have families too, you know."

He took a deep breath and let it out, grounding himself. He had depended on his friends' strength and support but now it was time to give back to them.

"Hey, what all of you have been doing - it's brilliant, you know. So where is everyone now? What about the Muggles? And your parents, Hermione - have they left?"

Hermione smiled, taking Harry's cue to change the subject.

"Yes, my mum and dad just left. All the Muggles have gone home. Our classes start tomorrow - oh, we have a Transfiguration essay to do - yes, Ron, we do. A lot of students are just... wandering around the castle, though. Filch too but surprisingly, he doesn't seem to notice them. And some of the students -"

She broke off and gave a guilty look at Ron who rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Harry," Hermione continued apologetically. "A lot of the students have been wanting to see you."

Harry looked surprised and Hermione rolled her eyes a little.

"You woke us all up, Harry! They want to see you, they want to thank you!"

Harry groaned, remembering the whispers and rumours that had dogged every year he had spent in Hogwarts. They had increased sharply when he married Severus and increased still more when he was named King. He could remember all the spectators at the Quidditch pitch wanting to meet him and wanting him to accept their thanks. The unexpected and very uncomfortable memory of Albus, Severus, Sirius and Remus actually standing up around the coffee table when he came out of the bedroom the following morning followed by everyone else rising to their feet when he entered the Great hall later made him want to hide here forever.

"What d'you think is going to happen the next time I walk into the Great Hall?" he asked numbly. Ron grinned at him.

"Dunno. Bow with their right hands over their hearts?" he asked wryly. Harry groaned again and Ron punched him lightly in the arm.

"Sorry, mate, but you did wake everyone up. You don't think they're just going to act as though nothing's happened, do you?"

Harry sighed and ended up grinning a little at Ron's deadpan tone. He was still smiling when Hermione stood up and patted his shoulder.

"You must be starving. I'll ask Madam Pomfrey to get you something to eat," she began and stopped. All of them turned to look at the door. They could hear voices coming louder and louder. Almost immediately, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office open and she peeped out just as the main door was thrown open with a crash. Vernon Dursley stood framed in the doorway, his round face purple with rage. Next to him was Petunia Dursley, her thin face white with an equal amount of anger. Behind them stood Dudley, looking as if he wished he were somewhere else.

"So. The Boy Who Lived," spat Vernon Dursley with a sneer that would have made Lucius Malfoy envious. In a flash, Ron and Hermione stepped in front of Harry, their wands out.

"I thought all the Muggles had left," Ron said evenly.

"I thought so too," said Madam Pomfrey grimly. She spun around. "I'm going to inform the Headmaster."

Harry stood up, placing a hand on Ron and Hermione's shoulders and gently moving them aside.

"It's all right. I'm sure they just want to talk," he said calmly.

The grim looks his friends exchanged said it was highly unlikely. Unfortunately, they were right.

- o -

Petunia Dursley had never been so insulted in her life. From the moment that impertinent werewolf slapped her – slapped her! On the face! The bloody nerve! - after breaking into her house in Privet Drive, things had not improved. He and that notorious mass murderer had treated her with unbelievable contempt. As if any of this was her fault! The journey here by portkey almost had her throwing up, it was a good thing she had been too worried to eat. Then there was the indignity of seeing her beloved Vernon and Dudley levitated onto beds instead of using more dignified stretchers. And what a ward! Old. Drafty. Lacking in everything a proper hospital room should have. Probably crawling with bacteria and germs of all kinds. She had shuddered at the thought.

Oh, her conscience has given a momentary twinge at the digs about the cupboard under the stairs but it was gone in a moment. She was definitely going to contact her lawyer the moment she returned home. But for the moment, she had to contend with weird staircases that moved, possessed paintings on the walls that talked and ghosts – ghosts! - who actually thought they had the right to speak to and move amongst living people. She hadn't talked to any of the women she had met. They had sounded like they were on their side. At the first chance she got, Petunia sneaked out of the Hufflepuff Dorms and found her way back to the Infirmary, almost toppling headlong down one flight of stairs on the way. She forced herself to keep quiet since the only other patients in the ward were those sleeping but surprisingly, no one actually asked her to leave. In fact, no one seemed to want to approach her or Vernon or Dudley.

- o -

Madam Pomfrey was fuming as she hurried back into her office. That overweight husband of the horrible Squib woman and her equally overweight son were the noisiest in her ward once they had awakened, demanding to know where they were and why weren't they placed in a private room. She had also heard of the obscene amounts of food the two males had managed to put away even before Albus entered the Great Hall to talk to them. It's a wonder Harry wasn't a mad case growing up amongst such people, she muttered to herself. The sooner they were gone from here the better. She had only recently gotten her Infirmary nice and empty with only Harry and the two Slytherin students as her patients. She most certainly did not want the nasty Dursleys here anymore.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, she flung it into the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's office!" she cried.

- o -

The Dursleys weren't quiet as they stormed down the length of the ward but the two Slytherins slept on, oblivious. Dudley followed them but at a much slower pace, sidling past the beds as quietly as his bulk would allow him.

"So you are awake, after all!" Petunia accused in an ear splitting shriek, too furious to be nervous at the two wands pointed in her direction. "They said you were sleeping but I knew you weren't! Just hiding here until we left, wasn't he, Vernon?"

"I think you should all go home," Hermione stated.

"Home!" screeched Petunia, hands on hips. "Our home, our lives are a mess! We are not going to leave until he puts everything right! Until he makes up for every single wrong he's done to us. Every single indignity we've had to suf-"

"Shut up and leave. Now."

Harry was amazed. He had never heard Ron's voice sound so stern, so unyielding.

"Don't you ever step foot inside this castle again. You are not fit to be Harry's family," Ron added, speaking through gritted teeth, his blue eyes narrowed and fierce.

"All of you - freaks! Stop protecting that ungrateful brat! Stand aside!" yelled Vernon, a thick blue vein throbbing dangerously in his temple, looking like it was about to explode.

"You were supposed to have taken care of Harry! How could you!" cried Hermione angrily. "You were the only family he had!"

"He - was - never - a - part - of - our - family!" screamed Petunia. She seemed beside herself with fury, her hands clenched into shaking fists. Ron and Hermione both heard Harry's sharply indrawn breath.

"He's nothing like our Dudley! He's a freak! Abnormal!" roared Vernon.

"How dare you!" Hermione cried but Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"How did you manage to hide when everyone else has been sent back?" he asked quietly. Petunia sniffed in disdain.

"I'm not stupid," she spat at him. "I can see everything, you know," she added. "All your moving staircases and your portraits. I just found a deserted classroom on the fourth floor..."

"You're a Squib. That means you're one of us," Ron said flatly. Petunia's eyes bulged in shock.

"No!" she cried. "I'm nothing like you!"

Again, Harry tightened his grip on Ron and Hermione's shoulders, gently but firmly moving them to the side.

"Yes. You are nothing like us, Aunt Petunia," he said quietly, his green eyes burning with a mix of hurt and anger. "We would never call one of our kind a freak."

His voice shook at the last word. Ron's fingers tightened on his wand, rage burning inside his chest. How many times had Harry been told that and by the very persons who should have protected and taken care of him?

"Don't you speak that way to her, you ungrateful boy!" shouted Vernon, his face contorted with rage, spit flying from his mouth as he shouted. "What about the food we put in your mouth, the clothes on your back!"

"We never should have taken you in," Petunia added venomously. "You're nothing but a lazy, useless fre-"

There was a bang like a gunshot and everybody froze, Petunia's mouth still open.

"Don't."

It was just one word. One word spoken in a low voice hardly above a whisper, shaking with barely controlled rage.

"Don't. Insult. My. Bond mate. Ever. Again."

The three Dursleys swung around. Four men had come into the ward and were pointing their wands at them. Severus was flanked by Albus, Sirius and Remus. The looks of identical anger on their faces caused Vernon and Petunia to move closer to each other, and Dudley to give a frightened squeak.

Staring at all four men but at Severus in particular, Harry could see why. He had never seen the Potions Master looking so furious. The man was standing ramrod straight with his head held high and his pale face set with anger, cold fury radiating off him in almost tangible waves. His black eyes were filled with contempt as he glared at the family that had made Harry's growing up years a living hell.

- Chapter End -