I am so, so sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out! It's been a real struggle finding the motivation to write more than a paragraph at a time. But I swear I will never, ever abandon this fic. I intend to see it through to the end. Thank you to everyone who has put up with my inconsistent updates recently. Thanks for sticking with me! Your reviews make me want to write, so please, keep them coming (even if you are only begging me to update). I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I will do my best to have the next one out sooner rather than later.

Chapter 34 The War Begins

Monday morning, Madame Pomphrey finally released Harry from her care with a new scar on his cheek that would probably fade, given time, and bandages still wrapped around his upper arm—the cutting curse from the attack had really done a number on him, and since it was dark magic, it would take at least a few more days to heal over completely, and then he'd be left with another scar. He really was acquiring quite the collection.

Harry joined his friends in the Great Hall for breakfast and was surprised at the subdued atmosphere he found. The Marauders were up to their usual antics, but most conversations were held in low voices and cautious tones. The attack on Hogsmeade had really shaken the student body, Harry realized. But that wasn't all; that morning's Daily Prophet headline recapped said attack, and included the fact that dementors were defecting from Ministry control and "could be anywhere. Civilians are advised to take precautions and never travel alone."

An involuntary shudder ran down Harry's spine at that piece of news. Most of the students figured Hogwarts was safe, but Harry knew better. In his time, Dumbledore had deliberately allowed the dementors onto the grounds, but here, there was still the possibility that they could slip through no matter what precautions were taken. It was no surprise, then, when his first DADA class of the week revisited dementors and the Patronus charm.

"Now, I know all of you have heard the news—that dementors are roaming free. We've already covered dementors, but let's make sure you all remember what they are and why they are so dangerous," Professor Dean began sternly.

Only a few hands went up. The professor called on Tonks, who answered with all seriousness: "They are among the most foul creatures to ever walk the earth. They prey on our happiness, on any positive emotion. They make you relive your worst nightmares, your ugliest moments. And if they get too close, they will suck out your soul. The body will continue to function, but everything that makes you who you are will be gone."

Harry felt the shiver that went around the classroom, and it took some effort and concentration to keep his thoughts from drifting. But he must not have been very successful at schooling his expression, because he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced sideways and gave Remus a weak smile of gratitude. On his other side, Sirius bumped his shoulder lightly and made it look like an accident.

"Correct, Ms. Carter. And how does one defend against a dementor?"

Only two hands went up—Remus's and Lily's. Harry glanced across the classroom at the Slytherin side. They all seemed bored, except for Severus who looked mildly interested. For him, though, that was the same as sitting riveted in his chair and hanging on every word.

"Mr. Lupin," Professor Dean said.

"Your best option is to run the other direction as fast as possible," he said with a faint smile. A few people chuckled, and most of the Slytherins snorted in contempt. "But if that isn't an option, there's always the Patronus charm."

"And what is the Patronus charm?" Lily's hand went up, and the professor called on her.

"It's a sort of summoned guardian that acts as a shield. The incantation is 'expecto patronum,' and the wand movement is merely a small swish. A Patronus won't kill the dementor, but it can drive it away and allow you to get to safety."

Professor Dean nodded. "Correct. A Patronus is an outward manifestation of everything dementors hate. They thrive in darkness and fear; a Patronus is light and confidence. Does anyone know how to successfully cast a Patronus?"

Nobody raised their hand. Lily looked confused, since she'd already given the incantation and wand movement. Harry took a deep breath and raised his hand.

"Mr. Carter?"

"There's more to casting a Patronus than just the wand movement and incantation. You can do both perfectly, but it will still fail if there's nothing to back it up. In this case, the very emotions the dementor is trying to steal become the fuel for a successful Patronus."

There was a thoughtful silence, then Professor Dean spoke again. "You have experience facing dementors." It wasn't a question. Harry nodded minutely, and Remus's hand tightened on his shoulder. Every eye was on him, and Harry wondered if the students remembered his boggart from Halloween. "Have you ever cast a Patronus before?"

Harry almost nodded before realizing he'd probably be asked to demonstrate, and it turned into a sort of half-shrug and a head shake. "Only a weak one," he conceded. "No form; just wisps of smoke."

Professor Dean nodded. "There are two types of patroni. The first is a shield type, which is more or less a wall of magic that will keep a dementor at bay. The second type is a corporeal Patronus, which takes on an animal shape, which changes depending on the castor. This is the type that will actively chase a dementor and drive it away. Most people who try only manage the first type. A corporeal Patronus takes immense concentration and conviction, not to mention magical stamina. For the next week, we will be practicing the Patronus charm." The professor turned very serious. "I expect each one of you to manage at least a shield Patronus by the end of the week. Any NEWT student of mine should at least be able to escape a dementor should he or she find themselves facing one."

There was a silence, then Lily raised her hand. "Can you demonstrate what the shield Patronus is supposed to look like?" she asked when the professor called on her.

Professor Dean nodded. He swished his wand and very clearly incanted, "Expecto Patronum." A wisp of smoke shot out of his wand and coalesced into a roughly convex shield shape that flickered and pulsated at regular intervals. He let it stay for a moment, to awed whispers from the class, then he let it fade. "That is what I expect each of you to be able to do by the end of this week. To anyone who manages a corporeal form, even if only briefly, I will award fifty points to their house. To anyone who manages even a shield nonverbally, I will award twenty-five points."

Excited murmurs broke out as the students pushed desks out of the way to clear room for practice. Harry hung back, unwilling to deliberately fail any number of times before he had to. Naturally, he could cast a fully corporeal Patronus, but as it was identical to James's animagus form, it would raise questions he didn't want to answer.

For the next forty minutes, the room echoed with shouts of "expecto patronum." Evidently, most of the students thought volume equaled power. Only three people managed even a wisp by the end of class—James, Lily, and Severus. Harry (and Tonks, he supposed) deliberately didn't try. James and Severus glared daggers at each other, as though neither could believe the other had managed it. Each of them was awarded ten points for success. Everyone else was told to practice, then class was over.

While James was busy bragging about his success, to good-natured ribbing from the others, Harry walked in silence. A familiar, heavy weight settled on him—the weight of responsibility. He knew what was happening, what would happen. He could stop it. He just didn't know how. And the idea that he might lose any one of friends simply because they weren't prepared—because he wasn't prepared—terrified him.

"Harry? You okay?" It was Peter.

Harry barely held back a sigh. "Not really," he answered quietly. The lesson had brought back any number of old memories, despite his attempts to shut them out.

Peter hadn't expected an honest answer, so for a moment he was silent. "Whatever it is, remember that you're not alone," he finally said. "We're here for you."

Harry smiled, though it was a difficult task. "Thanks, Pete."

Apparently, the depressive mood was contagious. As the day wore on, Sirius grew more obnoxious—which meant he was trying to prove he was okay. Harry wondered what he had remembered, though he knew that trying to get anything out of Sirius would be like trying to wring oil from a wet cloth. Tonks spent more time casting worried looks in Harry's direction than she did listening in class, and lost ten points during Ancient Runes for not paying attention. Harry braced himself for the inevitable interrogation. Even Lily grew more withdrawn as evening drew nearer. Casting his mind back, Harry remembered, vaguely, that she'd said something about her sister getting married sometime in March, and Lily wasn't invited.

Harry had planned to check up on Lily and make sure she was okay before getting started on his homework that evening, but before he got a chance, his surrogate sister all but kidnapped him and dragged him to the library.

"All right, spill," she ordered. They were in the back of the library, where they went to study only rarely nowadays. Harry sneezed at the perpetual scent of dust in the air. Tonks turned to face him and crossed her arms over her chest, a stern but worried look on her face.

"Spill what?" Harry asked, trying to play it off.

"You've been down since this morning. I'm not blind."

"Then you should already know what's bothering me," Harry retorted. He loved his sister, he really did, but her worrying was really getting on his nerves. She'd all but suffocated him on her first visit to the hospital wing the other day.

"I can't read your mind, kid, however much I wish I could sometimes."

"But you know me; I'm sure your guesses are accurate. I don't like having to explain my every mood change to you," Harry responded, tamping down on his anger. He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something hurtful and started reading the titles of the books on the shelf behind his sister to distract himself.

Tonks sighed, and her hair turned grey and orange—the colors of worry and annoyance. "I just want to help. I feel so useless right now." She bit her tongue before she could say more. Harry tried not to smirk as he replied,

"All right. Spill." Tonks still glared at him, and then it was Harry's turn to sigh. "It's always about me," he said pointedly. "Like I said in the beginning, this has to go both ways. So what's really bothering you and making you want to smother me?"

Tonks sank into a nearby chair, twisting her fingers together. Harry dragged a chair over and sat facing her. "Before we came here, I felt like I was really helping you improve, like I was actually making a difference and maybe evening the odds a little for when…well, when you eventually had to face him. But since we came here, I'm hardly even your study partner. Don't get me wrong—I don't mind that. I hate studying. But I haven't really done anything to help you." She laughed humorlessly. "If anything, you're the one helping me now. And that makes me feel weird, because I'm older than you, and I should be the one in charge. But you're the one driving us forward, looking for answers and ways to make a difference. I'm…I'm just a normal student, and because of circumstances, I feel even more out of place than ever. So the only thing I feel like I can do is worry about you and make sure you're always okay."

"You're rambling again," Harry pointed out with a faint smile. Tonks flushed a little.

"Dammit," she muttered.

Harry shook his head in amusement, then he had to sigh. "Look, it's not like I don't appreciate you looking out for me. I just...it's hard for me to accept help from others. I'm used to doing things by myself, looking out for myself. It's…it's really weird having someone else worry about me," he admitted embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Usually no one cares." Harry sighed again. He dropped his hands into his lap and studied them while he continued. "Maybe that's why I'm so focused on helping people. I know what it's like to not have anyone care if I'm upset or hurt. And…well, I hate the idea of someone else feeling that way because of me."

"I take it that's why you've been so depressed today?"

Harry nodded, not looking up. "I just wish there was something I could do," he said quietly.

"Me, too, kid," Tonks murmured.

Neither of them noticed a tall, black-haired figure with a red tie slip away from behind the stacks, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

A short while later Harry and Tonks returned to the common room and their respective groups of friends. Except two certain members—one from each group—were missing.

"Where's James?" Harry asked as he sat beside Sirius. The puzzled look on his face was immediately exchanged for a smirk.

"Over there," he said, jerking his head toward a corner. Harry followed his gaze and barely kept his jaw from dropping. There, sitting at a table near the window, sat James—and Lily. Together.

"Has she temporarily gone blind and deaf?" Harry asked bemusedly. He was all for the two having a real conversation and being friendly, but he didn't expect it to happen so suddenly.

Peter snorted. "Nope."

"Apparently," Remus broke in, "Lily looked upset, so James summoned his courage and went to ask her what was wrong."

"That was twenty minutes ago," Marlene broke in, joining their conversation. Tonks vaulted over the back of a chair and fell into the seat on Harry's other side. He rolled his eyes.

"And she hasn't hexed him yet?"

"Nope. But I'm expecting it at any moment," Sirius added. "For now, let's just observe."

"Apparently, something you said to her made her think," Tonks told Harry in a low voice.

"—list of questions," Sirius was saying.

"Huh?"

"For the interrogation, of course. We have to wring every last detail out of him. This is a momentous occasion!"

"While he does have a point," Remus interrupted mildly, "I think you might be taking this a bit too far," he said with a nod toward Sirius.

"Besides, couldn't we just eavesdrop on them?" Peter suggested.

"I agree," Marlene said, grinning. But Tonks shook her head.

"Bad idea. If she even knew we were talking about this, Lily would kill us."

"Frankly, I'm surprised you aren't eavesdropping already," Harry said dryly.

Peter looked sheepish. "Prongs gave us a death glare."

"Then there's nothing for it but to wait and ask him about it later," Harry replied. He'd never been on the receiving end of said death glare, but he knew James's looks could be pretty dangerous. He also knew what it meant when he himself gave someone that kind of a look, and he was fairly certain James would react the same way he would.

"In the meantime," Remus broke in, "I suggest we try and get some homework done."

"Aw, you're no fun!" Sirius complained.

Remus shrugged and pulled a half-finished essay toward himself. "It's your grade."

Harry smiled a little at the torn expression on Sirius's face. On the one hand, Sirius couldn't care less about school work. But he liked the bragging rights that came with good grades. He'd probably pout for a few minutes, then buckle down and get the work done.

It wasn't much longer before Lily and James separated. Lily headed for her dorm while James rejoined his mates. With a wink, Tonks and Marlene followed their roommate up to their dorm, and James took Marlene's vacated spot on Peter's other side. Harry was faintly amused by the light blush coloring James's cheeks. His lips were turned up in a faint smile, compared to the last time he and Lily had been alone together and he'd returned all but crying. So Harry was mostly just glad things had gone well.

The moment James sat down, Sirius opened his mouth to begin the interrogation. Remus jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow and shook his head sharply. His meaningful look was enough to get Sirius to wait at least for a few minutes. In the meantime, the group worked quietly on homework. The true marvel was that their only conversation for the next twenty minutes was homework help. Then Sirius couldn't wait any longer.

"All right, Prongs. Spill."

"Huh?" James looked up in confusion, and Harry realized that all he'd accomplished in the last twenty minutes was create a large ink blot on his parchment where his quill rested. His cheeks were still pink, and there was a faraway look in his eyes. Harry couldn't help a snort of laughter. He wasn't the only one. Peter snickered and Remus bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. Sirius had no such compunctions. He burst into surprised laughter that quickly became obnoxious. It took another one of Remus's bony elbows to the ribs to shut him up long enough for someone to speak.

"Were you really daydreaming this whole time?" Peter asked, fighting a smile.

"I…maybe?"

"Potter and Evans, sittin' in a tree," Sirius began in a singsong voice. James turned bright pink. "K-I-S-S—oof!" Harry had elbowed him, trying not to laugh.

"Shut up, Snuffles."

Peter burst into laughter, which set off the rest of them. Well, except for James, whose face now resembled a fully ripe tomato.

"Stop it, guys," he protested. "Why is that so funny?"

Remus choked back a laugh. "He's right, though. He's always like that."

"Hey!" James tried to glare.

"S-sorry," Peter said breathlessly.

"No, you're not," Harry muttered past his smile.

Conversation from there dissolved into playful ribbing all around, and not a lot of work got done. Finally, Harry started to nod off. He hadn't fully recovered from his magical exhaustion yet. Noticing this, Remus suggested they head up to the dorm. The others agreed, and after gathering books and parchment they ascended the stairs. Harry, who by now was totally exhausted, barely made it through his nightly routine before collapsing onto his bed.

The others continued their banter, even as Remus halfheartedly protested, wanting to finish his homework before going to sleep. Harry's body was tired, but his mind took some time to shut down. To ease the process, Harry began his Occlumency exercises. He'd been neglecting them recently, he realized ruefully. Sorting through the last week's worth of memories would take time. But Harry only made it through the last few days before slipping into sleep.

Running toward the shouting. Smoke rising from the village up ahead. Harry grabbed James's arm to pull him out of the path of spellfire—too late. The bespectacled boy dropped to the ground in disbelief, a dark stain spreading across his chest. Eyes open but unseeing. The tang of blood in the air. Sirius appeared at Harry's side. They ran together, encountered a cloaked figure. They fought. Harry faltered, and his shield failed. Sirius went down, untouched but not breathing. Accusation in his stare. Guilt clawed at Harry's insides. Remus came running towards him through the smoke, calling out. But Harry couldn't hear the words. Suddenly Remus stumbled, fell, began writhing in pain. Harry ran to his side. He was helpless to save him. Betrayal as the light left the werewolf's eyes. Face to face with a figure cloaked in black. Spells flashed back and forth, Harry's wand whipping back and forth in furious grief. The hood blasted off, Peter's face staring back at him. All of his friends' dying emotions on Peter's face. Failure stung like a hornet. Failure and guilt. Suddenly a high-pitched scream, a flash of green light. Pain, and then nothing.

Harry gasped, clutching at his chest. Sweat-drenched clothes stuck to his skin. His body shook. In a panic, Harry whipped his head around. James, sprawled half-naked across his bed with the blanket over only one leg, his chest rising and falling regularly. Harry took a deep breath. Remus, curled in a ball with his back to Harry, shoulders moving with each breath. Sirius, sprawled on his back, snoring lightly. Peter, only his silhouette visible in the darkness, but a second set of light snores. Harry let out the breath he'd been holding in a heavy sigh. Just another nightmare, he told himself. They're fine, and it was just a nightmare.

But it could happen, whispered a little voice in the back of his mind. You already killed him once.

No, Harry argued back. That wasn't my fault. Bellatrix, it was Bellatrix.

But he wouldn't have been there if you hadn't been.

He hasn't died yet, Harry insisted. I can change it. I can change all of it.

How?

To that Harry had no answer. With a heavy heart and an uneasy mind, he lay back down. He doubted he'd get much more sleep that night.

The next morning at breakfast, the students of Hogwarts were greeted by another flock of black Ministry owls and newspapers bearing the headline: "Muggle Towns Attacked! Dementors and Death Eaters Responsible. You-Know-Who Gaining in Power!"

"Call him Voldemort, for Merlin's sake," Harry grumbled, tossing the newspaper aside. He ignored Sirius's cry of alarm and then his stream of cursing when his pumpkin juice spilled over his plate and onto his lap.

"Someone's in a bad mood this morning," James observed. A hint of teasing colored his tone, but mostly he was cautious.

Harry bit back a retort and instead bit viciously into his toast. A quickly stifled sob caught his ear. He whipped his head toward the sound and saw a third-year boy further down the table flee the Great Hall, upsetting his plate and his friend's as he went. He clutched a crumpled piece of parchment in one fisted hand. Harry's stomach clenched and suddenly his appetite vanished. His bite of toast turned to cardboard in his mouth and it was difficult to swallow.

"I'll see you in class," he muttered, then he left the Hall. He didn't follow the younger student; rather, he found himself pacing the corridors agitatedly. He tugged his fingers through his hair, which was as unmanageable as ever, and did his best to keep from shouting. Or kicking the wall. Or cursing the wall.

With fifteen minutes to go until class started, Harry did his best to tone it down. At least enough that he wouldn't curse the first person to talk to him. Which was just as well, because only moments later a familiar head of red hair appeared.

"Harry? I saw you leave; are you okay?"

Harry exhaled forcefully, then tried to smile. "I'm fine, Lily."

Lily scoffed. "Try again."

Harry's lips quirked upward. "I'm frustrated."

"What about?" Her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "It's not like there's much you can do."

"That's just it!" Harry tugged at his hair again. "I could do something. But instead, I'm stuck here playing student when people are out there dying!"

Lily bit her lip. "What can you do? You're hardly a match for them. You'd be lucky to last more than two minutes."

"Two minutes could save lives," Harry insisted. "I want to do something, not sit here and watch it happen and be powerless to stop it!"

"So do I!" Lily burst out. "It's terrible, what they're doing! But," her lip quivered, "we have to be able to make a difference. And right now, we'd just be another casualty." She bit her lip again and there was a pause. Then she spoke again. "So," here, her expression turned determined. "I'm going to put double the effort into my schoolwork, because one day it might save my life or someone else's!" she declared.

Harry stared at her. He'd known from stories that his mum had been fiercely protective and a fighter to the core, but this was the first time he'd seen that side of her. That shared determination to fight and protect, Harry thought, might have been what drew her and James together to begin with. Because though James was generally laid-back, he'd seen that side, the side that would risk everything for what he believed in, more than once in just the six months he'd been in the past.

"What?" Lily asked sharply. Harry felt his cheeks color slightly as he realized he'd been staring for a good minute or so.

"Nothing. I just…" Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I didn't realize you felt so strongly. I…well, I thought I was the only one."

Lily scoffed. "Hardly. They don't show it much, but Marlene and Alice are just as passionate about it, and so is Frank. And…" she paused and made a face, then added, "So are your mates, though you'd have to look really deep."

Harry smiled for real this time. "That's true." He glanced at his watch and cursed. "We're going to be late!" he exclaimed. Lily gasped, then the two of them took off down the hall toward the Charms classroom.