Chapter 10

Harry's body arched off the bed, a tortured scream bubbling out from his lips which brought the whole Order racing upstairs. Poppy stared in shock, unable to treat the teen for a non-physical cause to his pain.

"Harry!"

The adults turned to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny watching their friend in horror. Remus pushed through the crowd to reach Harry, whose limbs flailed wildly. As the awful screams continued, Harry's hand clawed at his scar in an involuntary attempt to stop the pain. Taking charge, the werewolf situated himself behind the boy and forcefully held the arms still.

"He'll only hurt himself further," Remus explained in response to the indignant looks. "Cast a silencing charm, Poppy."

The mediwitch did as ordered and the heart rending noise was replaced by an eerie silence.

"Now what?" asked Ginny softly, clinging to her mother's arm.

"Now," said Remus grimly. "We wait."

In his mind, Harry had curled up into a ball on the hard ground as wave after wave of pain washed over him. The pitch black aura surrounding Voldemort began to extend as a thick, black cloud that exuded pain, malice and anger. The darkness surrounded Harry's fallen form, dampening his connection to Severus, and leeching away any hope of escape.

Harry was in despair. It seemed he had thwarted death only to be killed barely two hours later. He knew from his studying over the summer that the prolonged pain would eventually send his physical body into shock, most probably resulting in his death. A slow, torturous death. He was sure there was a way to fight this battle but he didn't know what it was.

Instinctively he retreated from the pain, turning his focus inward. Years of experience had taught him to hide in his mind during physical pain, allowing him to cut off the emotional impact to pain until he could deal with it alone. In this battle though, he was already in his mind. There was no mind to hide in. Or so he thought.

Turning his focus away from Voldemort, Harry looked inwards and found a place to hide.

His unconscious mind. The part of him that assessed everything from a distance, retaining information that his conscious mind missed. The part of him that was, ultimately, linked to his magic.

Here in the deepest depths of his mind, Harry found an answer to his problem.

Voldemort was casting the cruciatus curse. It was proof that spells still worked in this mindscape. It was reasonable to assume that he could do the same. Even though there was no counter that Harry knew to the unforgivable curse, he had learnt his lesson from the evening's earlier battle.

With a formless blast of magic, Harry pushed at the darkness.

In the physical world, Remus was still holding Harry still. Albus had almost immediately followed Severus into a deep trance, his hands softly glowing with power. The Headmaster was using all of his magic to keep Harry and Severus tethered to the world. Poppy was frantic, one of the few times that Remus had ever seen her upset about anything.

Instantly he knew something had happened when Harry's body suddenly went dead still. The sudden lack of resistance was frightening, yet when he touched Harry gently, he realised that the body was still full of tension. The cruciatus continued to ravage the Harry's nervous system, but he was no longer responding. Only the constant, small twitches in his muscles indicated the unforgivable's presence.

Suddenly a nimbus of silvery white magic emanated from Harry, forcing everyone out of the room that was not touching the body, to the Order's consternation. Several members tried and failed to penetrate the glowing shield that now filled the room. Madam Pomfrey was also outside the door, unable to reach her patient.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Remus looked as helpless as she felt.

"I don't know."

Harry felt a surge of hope. The darkness was retreating slowly under the dazzling shield that surrounded him. He looked back to Voldemort, who had paused in his cursing, surprised by his enemy's retaliation.

"What are you doing?!" the snake-like man snarled. "You cannot defeat me!"

"To be honest," croaked Harry, uncurling slightly on the ground. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's worked every other time you've attempted to kill me. So I think I'll continue…"

The red eyes widened with fear and anger, and the wizard responded in the only way he knew.

"Crucio!"

Harry eyed the red curse as it flew towards him. As it reached his shield, it splashed harmlessly against the bright silver. He was shocked as the curse was absorbed into the shield, lending added magical strength. Determined to finish the battle, he concentrated on extending his magic that was overpowering Voldemort's darkness. As the darkness receded, his link with Severus grew clearer, and he drew strength from the feelings of love, care and concern that flowed from his godfather. Gathering his magic together, he loosed a final bolt of magic towards Voldemort.

The bright silver streaked across the desolate plain to a fleeing Voldemort. Arrow-like, it clipped the dark lord in the shoulder as he disappeared. Free from the evil presence, the plain faded away, and Harry collapsed into Severus' arms, safely inside the walls of his mental fortress.

Severus gathered Harry close, the boy resting his head tiredly against his godfather's chest, mutually sharing their relief. Neither had the strength to maintain the mental connection for long. Eventually, their mental forms flickered, and faded away.

Remus was startled as Harry took a deep breath and relaxed, a sigh escaping the slightly parted lips. Even now, his muscles would spasm; proof of the ordeal he had survived. Seconds later the barrier disintegrated the magic swirling back towards Harry.

Poppy immediately hurried in to tend to her patients, her warning glare halting the people at the door that made to follow. The entire Weasley family, minus Percy blocked the doorway, forcing many of the adults to retreat reluctantly.

For the sake of Harry and Severus, Poppy put up a privacy ward before carefully untangling their limbs. Harry was clearly the worst off; a fine tremble was apparent in his limbs and lines of pain marred his dead pale face. Remus shifted Severus and Albus into their own beds before returning to Poppy, who thrust vials of potions into his hands, directing him to pour them down the teen's throat while she conducted a deeper scan.

The scan showed numerous small muscle and ligament tears centred around the joints. Harry's heartbeat was weaker than she liked, strengthening it, she cast a monitoring charm to alert her if his condition changed. The largest problem was magical exhaustion; his magic levels were nearly non-existent and the mediwitch hoped her favourite patient would recover completely.

Magical exhaustion was a strange thing, and quite uncommon, although Poppy saw a few more cases than most healers due to the unstable nature of the magical core during early adolescence. Predictably, between three to ten third years would suffer from a mild case in a year, the magical exhaustion displaying in headaches, inattentiveness and general fatigue in classes. Usually, such children would be at about three quarters of their normal power, and could be solved by a energy potion and plenty of rest while their magical core recovered naturally. In Harry's case, however, she suspected that it would require far more specialised treatment.

Unable to do any more for Harry, she moved her attention to Severus. The man's face was paler than usual and but his only problems seemed to be magical exhaustion and a few bruises, most probably obtained during the battle. She gave him an energy replenisher to assist the natural healing, and took advantage of his rare unconscious state to run a full medical scan. The stubborn man refused to stay in the hospital wing at all costs, even after a night under the cruciatus. This was the first time in a few months she had been able to examine the man without him being uncooperative. Tutting softly at the results, she made a mental note to tell the house elves that they needed to remind Severus to eat. Otherwise satisfied, she looked over to Dumbledore, and was startled to see him watching her tiredly.

"Headmaster!" Poppy exclaimed softly. "How do you feel?"

"A little tired Poppy, but I will be fine. I haven't needed to use so much magic since the fiasco at the Ministry. How are they?"

"Both have magical exhaustion, Harry more than Severus. Severus should be fine with some rest, but I'm not sure how long it will take to heal Harry's magical exhaustion. He's nearly empty," answered Poppy, troubled.

"Don't worry yourself about that now, dear. I know a few things that may help, and Harry is a powerful young wizard. What have the Order been told?"

"Nothing yet."

"They must be anxious. Give me an invigorating draught, and I'll last a few more hours."

The witch protested half-heartedly. She knew that Dumbledore would do as he pleased. Helping the venerable wizard to stand, she sighed exasperated at the stubbornness of her patients. Why did they always want to run away?

Exiting the room, Albus was immediately surrounded by worried Order members talking over one another in their haste to have questions answered. He winced inwardly, he didn't feel quite as fit as he'd told Poppy, and the noise was making his headache worse. He held up a hand for blessed silence, and thanked Merlin that people actually listened to him.

"Harry is alive," he stated without any preamble. "He survived a battle with Voldemort and is extremely tired but he will recover. He and Severus are currently unconscious and will probably not wake for a while."

"Snape? Why is he unconscious?" asked a puzzled Ron.

"Professor Snape poured his magic and energy into Harry to keep him alive, at the risk of his own life," Albus said sternly. He knew he was exaggerating a tad, but he was too tired to care about such insignificant things.

There was a brief silence.

"Bloody Hell! I'm never calling him a greasy git again," whispered an awestruck Ron.

The tension broken, all of them shared a relieved laugh.

"Professor Dumbledore, how did You-Know-Who attack Harry in the first place? Is Headquarters in danger?" asked a concerned Molly.

"As far as I can tell, the failed killing curse that Voldemort cast created a link of some kind between him and Harry. Voldemort is able to project Harry images, dreams, feelings or visions. Tonight, I believe that Voldemort was enraged by the failed attack on Privet Drive and he somehow drew Harry into the link, trapping them in a battle."

He looked sternly at everyone there.

"This information is not to be spoken of to anyone, not even amongst yourselves. Is that clear?"

Met with mute consensus, he smiled slightly, discreetly adding a secrecy spell over the group as a precaution. He quickly regretted it as the spell drained his energy further, making him dearly wish to be back in a bed.

"I suggest everyone get some rest."

It was a clear dismissal. Most took note of the Headmaster's tired features and quickly dispersed, taking others with them. Albus made his way back into the room, closing the door behind him softly. Poppy was already sleeping in another bed but Remus was keeping vigil by Harry's bedside. He nudged the younger man gently.

"You look as exhausted as I am, Remus. Harry will be fine, and there is a monitoring charm set up," he reassured, guiding him away from Harry.

Satisfied that Remus was resting comfortably, he headed for his own bed, pausing for a moment to press a kiss to Harry's forehead. Gratefully, he lay down on the thick mattress, feeling wearier than he had in years.

A/N: Thank you very much to all my reviewers. As always, many thanks to RavensCave, my beta reader! PLEASE REVIEW!!