"Harry!"

Harry's first sensation when he awoke was of being squeezed in a vice like grip while simultaneously being smothered in brown bushy hair. There were worse ways to wake up he knew; after all he had experienced several of them, but after only a few hours of sleep he felt like death warmed over and was in no mood. He patted the distraught Hermione gently on the back, hoping it would encourage her to let go. It didn't. Merlin's beard, has she been taking lessons on how to do this from Mrs. Weasley?

"Give him some room Hermione," Ginny called out from her position on Harry's left as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. "Hate to see him survive the Death Eaters just to be crushed in his own common room."

Hermione huffed indignantly but to his relief she released him, crossing her arms as she stepped back and glared at Ginny.

"I'm just happy to see him, there's nothing wrong with that. After everything that happened yesterday I think that I'm entitled to be a little emotional."

"Nothing wrong with emotional Hermione," Neville threw in as he stretched on Harry's other side, "but you were the one who was speculating all night about what Harry was doing. Now that he's finally here one would think that you'd just ask him instead of suffocating him." Hermione stamped her foot in frustration.

"You make it sound as if I was the only one worrying! You were all sitting right there with me!" Ginny waved her comments away as she twisted her neck, which emitted an audible pop.

"Don't get so defensive Hermione. We were just taking the piss, no need to get your knickers in a twist." The youngest Weasley, now more alert, turned and crossed her legs facing Harry on the couch. "So what happened yesterday? Moody and Tonks just kind of took off with you, wouldn't tell us a thing. We looked for you at the feast but obviously you weren't there, and we started to think…." She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "Anyway, forget all of that, tell us what happened. Were you with Dumbledore?"

Before he could even reply a shout echoed through the room.

"Ronald Weasley!"

The lanky redhead, who had still been fast asleep on the common room floor, practically leapt to his feet, trying desperately to smooth his messy bed hair whilst simultaneously rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Yes Mum! I'm up, I'm up," he stammered hastily. Neville and Harry both chuckled as Ginny laughed uproariously, nearly falling off of the couch in her hysterics. Ron blinked in confusion. "Wait...Hogwarts? So no mum? Well then who-"

"I did Ron," Hermione said, "and it's no more than you deserve. I swear you would sleep through every class if you didn't have Harry to prod you out of bed." Ron didn't even seem to hear her, so busy was he staring at her in abject horror.

"But…but you sounded just like Mum."

"So?"

"So! So that's absolutely bloody terrifying that - wait, Harry?" He turned to stare over at the couch, finally noticing Harry's presence. "Harry you're back! Bloody hell mate you gave us a scare; we thought the Ministry might try and lock you up after what-"

"That's quite enough out of you Ron!" Ginny snapped, her glare shutting Ron's mouth instantly. "Harry was just about to tell us what happened, weren't you Harry?"

"Uhh…."

Just do it. You know they deserve to know the truth. And if they decide that you're too dangerous to be around anymore well…that's probably for the best anyway right? At least then they'll all be safe. Just grow a pair of bollocks and say it!

"Not now I think," he said, trying to sound casual as he mentally berated himself for every word. "From the looks of things outside people should be waking up soon."

"They already did," Hermione interrupted him, crossing her arms impatiently "while you were all sleeping. That's what woke me up is everyone coming downstairs; the four of you just slept through it like rocks."

"It's time for breakfast then," he offered helpfully. "We don't want to miss our class schedules, do we?"

"Actually we already have them."

"What?" the others exclaimed, staring at her in confusion.

"Well that's what mine was at least," she replied as she pointed at a neat little pile of envelopes stacked on the nearby table, "along with a letter from Dumbledore excusing me from class this morning. I would imagine that the others are the same." She turned back to glare at Harry. "So we have all morning to talk. Dumbledore even said that he would be having breakfast delivered."

Ron practically dived for the letters, rifling through them until he found one addressed to him and ripping it open gleefully.

"Bloody hell, she's right! We've got the whole morning off this says; only have to go to the two classes after lunch. Charms and Defense! Apparently he feels we deserve a bit of a lie in after going to such extraordinary lengths to protect the students of this school. Don't know about all that, but I'm always up for not having to go to class."

Ginny and Neville's letters were the same, and they all looked at Harry questioningly.

"There isn't one here for you mate," Ron said. "Surely he's not making you go to class but not us?"

"No, he told me about it last night when I left his office last night."

"So you were there," Hermione said triumphantly, "I thought so. Of course it only makes sense that after what happened Dumbledore would want to get you into the castle and somewhere safe right away. Who knows if the Death Eaters had a second attack planned in Hogsmeade. But you were there so late; hours after the students had been sent to bed. What were you two talking about?"

Harry cursed silently. Sometimes having the smartest witch in the school for a best friend had its disadvantages. Dumbledore had certainly kept his word about not forcing Harry to tell his friends anything, but he certainly wasn't going to make it easy on Harry if he decided not to take the old man's advice. He wondered where the conviction he had felt last night had gone, because no matter how many times he told himself that the time had finally come to reveal his secret, he just couldn't seem to make his mouth form the words.

Then he felt a small, delicate hand brush his shoulder comfortingly and he turned, finding Ginny's eyes with his own.

"Harry," she whispered comfortingly, as if she could sense his inner turmoil, "whatever it is, it doesn't matter. We can help you. Whatever it is, just let it go." He felt his resistance, the wall he had built around this terrible secret, crumbling and in a torrential outpour it all came out.

First he repeated the prophecy as he had heard it, word for word, leaving nothing out. He could hear Hermione's horrified gasp and he knew she had already deduced it's meaning, as he had known she would. Even Ron looked shaken as he sank back into an oversized armchair, his face scrunched up in thought. He knew that he could have stopped there; that after what he had told them they would not push him for more. But now that he had started he couldn't seem to stop, and the words just kept flowing, spilling out of him like a flood. Well over an hour passed, and no one even reacted when a soft pop announced the arrival of a school elf with a cart of food, not even Ron. Not having Dumbledore's pensieve or the memories he had collected made things more difficult, but Harry did the best he could, searching deep in his memories for every scrap of detail he had been told, every secret that had been revealed.

And as he shared them one by one, he began to feel lighter, lighter than he had in weeks, months even. Since he had first learned of the prophecy he had felt the weight of this terrible secret pressing down upon him, and he had felt as if he were suffocating. No matter what he was doing, even on his best day spent having fun with the Weasleys he always felt the secret in the back of his head, lurking. Regardless of what happened next, regardless of how his friends reacted, he finally felt as if he could breathe. Perhaps it was the relief he felt that was the cause, but the response he received when his tale finally came to a close came as a complete shock to him.

"Bloody hell mate, it never ends with you does it?" Hermione, who had been trying futilely to stop the flow of tears that had been steadily streaming since Harry had first revealed the prophecy, turned at once and slapped Ron across the back of the head.

"Ow! Watcha do that for!"

"For being an insensitive git Ronald," she shouted, still visibly distraught. "Our friend tells us that he is destined to face down the most evil and powerful dark wizard in history, who by the way happens to be immortal, and you act like it's his fault!"

"Hey that's not fair, I didn't say that!" He turned to Harry as if to reassure him. "I didn't mean it like that at all mate. I just meant…well damn just look at the last five years. Not a year goes by that something isn't trying to kill you, and us too most of the time. The year wouldn't be complete without someone or something looking to do us all in, right?"

"Oh that is so typical of you Ronald," Hermione huffed, "always trying to make everything into a joke. But this is serious; Harry's life is at stake here."

"I know it's serious," Ron objected, but Hermione ignored him, her mind already working at light speed.

"We have to get started right away," she muttered, pacing in front of the couch where Harry still sat. "I'll need to get to the library first thing and begin researching these Horcruxes. I'm sure that there won't be anything on that sort of magic in the books in this school, even in the restricted section, but maybe I can get a lead on what other objects Voldemort may have chosen. Ginny I could really use your help there; trying to get this lot to sit down and read is like trying to stuff a ferret into a shoe box."

Unlike Hermione, Ginny had not been crying, and in fact had not made a sound for over an hour, but she nodded emphatically, her face a stony mask. "Excellent! And Harry, you need to begin practicing your Defense again right away. Have you set a night for the first DA meeting yet? You are going to restart it of course; after learning this it's more important now than ever. Although I'm not sure you can really learn enough just teaching us students though, perhaps Dumbledore could get members of the Order to come and tutor you? Well say something!"

"Well, I mean, I hadn't thought too much about the DA yet," Harry, whose head was spinning as he tried to process her rapid fire questions, replied. "I told Neville on the train that I'd be starting it back up though. And I already spoke to Dumbledore about…hold on, wait just a minute." He stood up, gazing at each of them in turn in utter bewilderment. "Didn't any of you hear what I said? Voldemort is going to try and kill me!" The four of them looked at one another in confusion.

"Mate," Ron began slowly, speaking as if Harry had just stood up and insisted that the sky was blue, "I don't mean to sound rude but…what else is new?" Harry just blinked and slowly sank back down, unsure of how to respond to that. "Like I said, something has happened every year since we started at this school that's nearly killed one or all of us. I mean after everything that's happened between you and V-V…..Voldemort, we didn't exactly think that either of you would just let it go. To be honest, me and Hermione have kind of been expecting something like this since he got his body back. We didn't know about the creepy prophecies and trinkets that grant immortality of course, but that doesn't really change much, does it."

"But…but," Harry sputtered in objection, "you heard what the prophecy said. It's got to be me or him in the end, one of us is going to die."

"Yeah, and if we have anything to say about it sure as hell won't be you," Ron told him flatly. "I mean, the prophecy says it has to be one of you, but it doesn't say which one does it? And that means that you have a chance right? It means that you can beat him."

"What did you think was going to happen when you told us Harry?" Hermione asked gently. "That we would be so frightened that we would abandon you; stop being your friends?" Harry said nothing but his glowing crimson face revealed his embarrassment. Hermione knelt down before him and touched his arm softly. "Oh Harry…"

"I ought to kick you right in the bollocks for that one mate," Ron growled as he towered over Harry. "I know I don't have the best track record when things get tough, but I told you back home…we're your friends and we're sticking with you until the end. So suck it up and get used to it."

Harry felt a warm glow in his chest as he heard from his best friends what he had been secretly hoping – and dreading – to hear since the night Sirius had died.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice choked with emotion. "And I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"No worries mate," Ron said, waving his apology away as he glanced at the grandfather clock that stood on one side of the room. "It's getting late though; lunch in ten. We need to get going so we aren't late for afternoon class. Hate to spoil such a lovely, uneventful morning with detention."

"But Ron," Hermione objected as he gently grasped her shoulder and began herding her toward the portrait hole, "we don't really need lunch. I should really head down to the library for a bit before class and get started making a list of possible books to check…"

"Later Hermione, you can do that later. Right now I need food, and so do you." They stepped through the portrait hole, with Ginny still stone faced and uncharacteristically silent as she followed behind them. Harry moved to follow as well, but stopped when he realized that Neville was still sitting in an over sized armchair his eyes staring blankly into space.

"Neville," Harry called quietly, "you coming?" The round faced young man finally stood and turned, walking slowly towards Harry until he stopped only a few short inches away. He stared openly into Harry's eyes, and Harry found himself taken aback at the open fear he saw there…along with a touch of sadness.

"Look Neville," he began hesitantly, "this was a lot to take in. I'm sorry for dumping it on you like that; I should have asked if you wanted to leave before I started in, but it just sort of came out-"

"It could have been me," Neville interrupted, his voice soft but steady. Harry paled at his words. How had Neville known? He remembered all too well that Neville was the only other person who could have been a part of the prophecy according to Dumbledore, but he had never intended for him to find out. "The Longbottoms are an old family," he continued, his voice cracking just a bit, "steeped in tradition and nobility if you listen to my Gran tell it. We hold, or at least held, a traditional seat in the Wizengamot, helping to shape the future for all wizard kind. You saw my parents last year, and my dad was an only child, so I'm the last remaining member of the Longbottom family capable of carrying on our name.

Ever since I can remember my Gran has been drilling me about our family history as well as politics, trying to groom me for the day I would take my family's seat and restore our honor. I always hated those lessons. But the only thing I do remember is the stuff she taught me about my dad. She was so proud of him, her only child and all that, and she would sometimes lose herself and just go on and on about the things that he accomplished. So I know that my parents barely escaped attacks by Voldemort three times. And I certainly know when my own birthday is. I know everyone around here thinks I'm useless, but I can count. About the only part of that prophecy that doesn't apply to me is being marked by Voldemort. So am I right Harry?"

"Yes, it could have been you," Harry answered with absolute honesty. "But it wasn't. The final part of the prophecy required Volemort to mark the person as his equal. That's what this was," he said, pulling aside the messy fringe of his hair and pointing at his forehead. Neville stared openly, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Harry, your scar is gone!"

"What? Oh, yeah, that happened this summer. It's a long story, I'll tell you later. The point is Neville that it could have been you, but it wasn't. For whatever reason Voldemort chose me and started all of this, and now it's me who has to finish it." Neville bit his lip, cutting off whatever he had been about to say in response.

"I'm sorry Harry, I really didn't mean to try to make this about me. That's not even the reason I really wanted to talk to you, it just kind of threw me for a loop when I realized. Really, I just wanted to say thank you." Harry frowned in confusion.

"Thank me for what?"

"For killing Lestrange." Harry felt like his blood was turning to ice in his veins. "I know you feel bad about it," Neville continued on, "that it was an accident. I can understand that, respect it even I guess. But I still had to say thank you. Ever since I was a kid those four have been the bogeymen that came for me in my dreams. And when they escaped…" he broke off, turning his head to hide the welling tears. "When they escaped they were all I could think about. I loved to tell myself that if I ever saw them I would duel them to the death or something, avenge my parent's honor. But then the Ministry happened and I just fell apart. I was so scared Harry, the whole time. I had the people who took my family away right in front of me, and I could barely manage to stay alive, much less avenge anyone. This whole summer it's been weighing on me. But then you did what you did and…I feel like this huge weight has been lifted from me knowing that one of them is dead. I think about Bellatrix now and I don't feel afraid anymore, just angry. So I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable Harry, but I had to say something; for my parents…and for me."

He held out his hand and Harry took it, unsure of what to say. The fiery look in Neville's eyes was nothing like the quiet, mild-mannered boy he had known since his first year. This Neville looked like he was ready to take on one of Hagrid's blast ended skrewts in a wrestling match. He tugged on Neville's hand and they fell into step together as they strolled toward the portrait hole.

"Just so you know Neville," he offered casually as they stepped into the corridor and began making their way to the Great Hall, "I don't think that you're useless. And if anyone else disagrees…tell them to piss off.