Ron awoke to the sound of a loud crash in their room.

He tore open his curtains in time to see Harry hurl a tray of potion vials at his headboard, shattering on impact and falling to join the mess of items on the barely slept in bed. Books lay scattered on the bed, on the floor, the trunk at the foot of the bed wide open as Harry reached in for another object to throw. One of the curtains hung loosely from a bedpost as if someone had tried to tear it off and the Firebolt was tossed carelessly aside.

Barely awake, Ron lurched out of bed and grabbed Harry as he raised a pocket Sneakoscope over his head.

"Harry!" he said, alarmed and blinking as he tried to orient himself to the chaotic scene, struggling to hold on to the thrashing teenager. "Harry, calm down!"

He was barely aware of the coverings of the other beds opening up as he tightened his grip behind Harry, trying desperately to stop him. For all the fact that he was smaller and slighter than the redhead, Harry was fighting desperately, arms reaching without a seeming target. Ron briefly saw glimpses of tear tracks on his pale cheeks.

"Harry?" Dean mumbled sleepily, blinking from where he lay in bed. "Ron, what the hell is going on?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer but before he could say anything he grunted as Harry threw himself forward, a strangled cry in his throat as he reached for his trunk again. His bare feet skidded across the floor and he tightened his hold.

The next moment, Seamus and Neville were there, helping him as Harry fought wildly, putting themselves between him and the destruction.

"Oi, mate!" Seamus said in alarm, holding onto the arm that held the Sneakoscope, his Irish accent thick in his worry. "Harry, careful now!"

"Harry, are you okay?" Neville asked worriedly, grasping Harry's other arm. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to get McGonagall," Dean said, stumbling out of his bed, tripping over his robes strewn on the floor. "I should - "

"No!"

They all froze.

"No, please," Harry choked out. He stilled before suddenly going limp in their grasp, the Sneakoscope falling from his hand and landing with a solid thud on the floor. Dean hovered uncertainly a few feet from his bed as the others looked warily at the suddenly still black-haired teenager.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring listlessly at his bed. Seamus and Neville slowly started to let go of his arms as Ron held on, waiting to see what he would do next. "I'm sorry, I didn't…I'm sorry." He shivered and Ron saw him close his eyes. "I'm sorry, please don't…I'm sorry."

"Get Hermione," Ron said without looking away from Harry, slowly shifting his grip from around his best friend's body to holding onto his shoulders. Harry didn't seem to have anymore fight left in him, swaying on his feet with his head bowed.

"Should we get McGonagall anyway?" whispered Neville nervously, glancing back and forth between Harry and his remains of his random frenzy.

"Please," Harry whispered, trembling beneath Ron's hands. "Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't." Ron inhaled sharply as Harry abruptly fell to the floor, putting his face in his hands. He went to one knee as Dean dashed out of the room, already calling out for Hermione.

"Harry?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine" was the muffled reply. "I'm fine, I swear, I'm sorry." He shook once more and gasped, half-laugh, half-sob, "I didn't sleep well."

"Didn't sleep at all looks like," Seamus muttered as he eyed the ruins on the bed, the sheets still tucked in. Neville bent down and carefully put some of the books back in the trunk, still uncertainly looking at Harry.

"I've got this," Ron said. He glanced back at his dorm mates, shifting uncomfortably. "Give us a moment?"

"Right," Seamus said right as Dean came back with Hermione bundled up in her sleep robe. Dean hovered in the doorway and Ron could see a few curious faces behind him, obviously attracted by Dean's shouting.

Hermione took one look at them and promptly went over, kneeling gently down and winding her arms around their friend.

Harry jolted before bowing his face towards her, shaking.

Ron turned to tell the people at the door way off but their dorm mates were already there, loudly complaining about wanting to get changed and started for the day, would everyone please leave, they weren't stripping, didn't they all have studying to do. Dean gave Ron a thumbs up behind his back.

The door thudded close.

"I'm tired," was all Harry said as Hermione worriedly held him, his words muffled in her shoulder. "I'm so tired, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He kept repeating it as she hugged him and Ron tightened his grip on his shoulder, his blue eyes meeting her brown eyes in concern.


Hagrid furrowed his brows and asked where Harry was during their lesson. Ron reassured him that he was just feeling a little under the weather. After the lesson, the redhead promised to deliver the rock cakes with his well wishes.

Professor McGonagall frowned as she handed over the day's assignment to Hermione, the bushy-haired teenager promising that Harry would be fine with a day's rest, she wasn't convinced he needed yet another trip to the Infirmary.

When the rest of the Gryffindors started to question what had gone on that morning, the Weasley twins had promptly offered the latest delicacies their product line had to offer while their dorm mates shrugged it all off.

Professor Opacre stopped Hermione and Ron on their way to Herbology, looking oddly strained and troubled. Hermione barely managed to say that Harry was just catching up on some sorely needed sleep before Ron tugged her away, lips thin and body tense.

When they checked in on Harry throughout the day – at lunch, after the last of classes, before dinner – they found him in the same spot they left him that morning, curled up under a blanket, staring dully at the top of his bed.

Hermione brought him biscuits and apples, pumpkin juice and tea, carefully smuggled in her bag and left on his bedside drawer. Once dinner was over, both Hermione and Ron opted out of their routine and took their studying upstairs, Hermione primly sitting on one side of Harry, brows furrowed as she marked new notes and reviewed her outlines while Ron lay stretched out on the other side, flipping through an old magazine of Quidditch Weekly.

They both relaxed when they heard Harry's breathing deepen into sleep.


"If you think," Ron began, still stretched out on Harry's bed as Harry came silently back from the showers the next morning, "that we're going to let this go without an explanation, you've got another thing coming."

Harry picked up a robe and sat on his bed, staring down at the floor.

Hermione sat on his trunk, already dressed, her pale face and the dark bags under her eyes mirroring Ron's.

Ron slowly twirled his wand in his hand, his blue eyes fixed on his best friend as the silence stretched. The rest of their dorm mates had left earlier, prompted by Hermione while Ron made sure Harry wasn't disturbed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, finally.

"Not an explanation," Ron replied, still twirling his wand. Hermione sat patiently, leaning forward on the trunk but making no move yet to the tense black haired teenager.

Harry lifted his eyes and met Ron's. The redhead paused in his wand movements, seeing the exhausted and disconsolate look in his friend's eyes.

"I don't have a good one," Harry exhaled, "besides the fact that I'm just so tired." He closed eyes and continued, a touch bitterly now, "Very, very tired."

"Is it Voldemort?" Hermione asked quietly. "The O.W.L.s?" She paused briefly. "Draco?"'

"It's the fact that I'm never, ever going to be normal, am I?" he murmured as he opened his eyes and looked over at her.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed, a sorrowful expression growing on her face at the sight of his eyes. She stood up and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around him. "Harry, what is this?"

"I'm tired," he said simply, looking back down at the floor, his foot nudging a discarded book.

"You've always been strong," Ron said, as he straightened up and moved to sit next to them. His blue eyes narrowed at him. "You-Know-Who trying to make your life a living hell, end of year exams, Malfoy being a git, you've never let any of this beat you down before."

"Maybe I just finally hit the point where I've about had it with what life throws at me," Harry said flatly.

"All of a sudden?" Ron said skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Not that you haven't been acting funny since the dance but…" He gestured down at the floor, where there were still a few scattered shreds of parchment and quills and books. "This? This isn't you, mate."

"I don't know what is anymore," Harry mumbled. He swallowed and tilted his head back, eyes blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "I've got no clue who I am."

Hermione gently grasped his chin and turned his tired face to hers, her voice gentle but firm as she said, "You're a remarkable person for having gone through what you gone through. You're our friend who I have no doubt would do anything to make sure we were happy and well, just like we do with you. There is nothing wrong with needing our help or letting us do something, anything to make this easier for you. Whatever this is."

"It would be nice to know what this is," Ron muttered, grimacing as Hermione shot him a quick, quelling look. He sighed and nudged Harry's shoulder wearily. "You know me, always ready for another adventure."

"I don't know what anyone can do," Harry said, gently breaking Hermione's hold as he turned away from her. "Unless you know a way to help me get these thoughts out of my head," he mumbled.

She tilted her head. "Would that help?"

He stilled.

Hermione's eyes widened briefly and she exchanged a cautious look with Ron over Harry's head before carefully putting her hand on their friend's shoulder. "Harry?"

He turned to her, face pale. "Exactly what do you mean?" His eyes narrowed swiftly. "No subconscious potions," he practically growled.

"No, but I remember seeing something in one of my review guides for past N.E.W.T.s," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Why do you have guides for the N.E.W.T.s?" Ron asked incredulously, momentarily distracted. "We're barely taking the O.W.L.s!"

"It was from a while ago, I wasn't sure if they might've incorporated other topics from previous years when they revise the exams every year," Hermione said absently, still looking at Harry, who's expression had gone curiously blank.

"It couldn't hurt, I suppose," Harry said carefully, eyes distant.

"I'll check into it, then," she said. He nodded slowly and she touched his hand, watching his eyes focus as he blinked at her. "In the mean time, is there anything else we can do? Anything you want to tell us?"

He looked at her, turned his head to look back at Ron who was still watching him with narrowed eyes.

He stood up and walked a few paces from them before turning around.

"I'm glad we're friends," he said quietly. His eyes flickered lost for a moment and he swallowed. "Whatever happens just…keep doing that."


::What do you know:: Qye said quietly, when they were finally alone in the bathroom as Hermione and Ron bickered outside, waiting for him to join them to their first class after breakfast. ::Your outburst had some benefit after all.::

Harry tightened his grip around the sink.

::That's unfair:: he said tightly, green eyes glaring into the mirror.

He heard Qye take a deep breath and felt a small sense of apology. ::You're right. I just…you wouldn't listen to me.::

::You weren't doing so well either:: Harry muttered as he washed his hands roughly.

::I guess it's not as easy as I thought it would be:: Qye grimaced, a flicker of unease and anger running in the back of Harry's head. ::When we really thought about it.::

Harry turned off the faucet and bowed his head.

::The vampire asshole's going to pay:: Qye whispered as Harry picked up his bag. ::I promise us that.::


Over the course of the next weeks, Harry fought hard not to repeat that day's events.

It was hard when he would momentarily forget what he knew, grinning at a story one of his friends told or laughing at an inside joke. But then the feelings would come back hard and he struggled not to scream and let everyone know.

Harder still when, despite being calm himself, he would suddenly find himself in a wave of rage and loss from Qye.

Struggling to keep up his façade while inside, Qye lashed out waves of fury in his mind, fear and confusion rolling over him.

Hermione kept up her promise, looking through her guides while she made sure Harry and Ron studied. The problem was, she had so many and hadn't specifically marked what she had seen. Harry felt a pang of guilt every time he came down and found her still at her table in the common room, another stack of guides beside her.

Then there was Draco and Lest.

Lest's eyes still seemed to follow him every time he entered the Great Hall to the point where he could barely eat. Qye, thankfully, never said anything when Harry made his excuses to leave his presence as quickly as possible, however much Harry could feel his heartbreaking longing.

Draco's lips thinned every time Harry briskly finished their schoolwork and ducked away before he could be cornered. Harry always, always found himself somewhere hidden shortly after, his magic wildly rolling within him as he tried to reign his emotions about this entire damn situation.

Every day they both looked more and more frustrated but Harry couldn't afford the time to care for either of them, not when he was looking for his own solution as the end of the year was so near.


They finally found it, the last week of May while reviewing. Ron had wearily turned a page in a Charms book and mumbled about needing a pensieve to collect all the parts of his brain leaking out.

They both looked up when Hermione suddenly shoved aside her Transfiguration text and pulled out a guide, swiftly flipping through it.

"Pensieve, pensieve," she muttered, brows furrowed. Ron and Harry exchanged looks and looked back when she suddenly cried "aha!" and pushed it over to Harry.

"This is what I saw," she said eagerly as Harry slowly pulled it closer to him, glancing down. He immediately frowned when he saw that it was a potion but Hermione continued, unmindful of his sudden tension. "It's a potion that the mists in the pensieve were theoretically based on. Unlike an actual pensieve, however, it works by extracting the full memory instead of a copy."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Ron said doubtfully as Harry silently read the description and list of ingredients.

Hermione hesitated. "Well…it's been used as a last resort treatment for those with retrograde amnesia and found to be particularly effective for those without magical causes but rather physical or - "

"But it removes a memory," Ron frowned as Harry kept his eyes on the page so that Qye could review it as well. "How can that not screw up a person's head?"

"It's a temporary effect, after which the memory dissipates and returns to its owner unless it's stored in a preservative container such as a pensieve," Hermione explained. Harry glanced up, frowning slightly. She gave him a look back. "It should be more than enough time for you to look them over and help you find whatever you're looking for. And of course we'll be there with you - "

"Let me think about it," Harry said, looking back down at the potion. He gave them a quick smile as he pulled back his Astronomy notes. "It's not like I should do any of this while O.W.L.s are going on."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously as he put aside the guide. "You can even keep it, alright? I just want to think about it." She nodded slowly and Harry reached over to quickly give her hand a small squeeze. "Thank you," he murmured.

She relaxed and picked up her quill once he let go of her hand.

Once Ron and Hermione were thoroughly engrossed in their own studying, Harry subtly used his wand to copy the potion onto a blank piece of parchment, tucking it between Defense Against the Dark Arts notes.


::This might work:: Qye murmured later that night as Harry reviewed the potion again.

::Then what?:: Harry asked cynically as he frowned at the parchment. The Corporale Memoria potion did exactly what Hermione said and turned the memory of a person into a tangible product, expelled as a mist from the drinker to form into a material which contained all the thoughts and feelings associated with the memory. The memory was typically guided out by another individual or concentrated on by the drinker. And just like Hermione said, its effect lasted for only two hours before it lost its form and dissipated back into the individual it came from unless restrained in a magical construct. ::Are you going to be happy living the rest of your life as a mass of memories? Who knows if that will even be you or just - ::

::We'll figure something out:: Qye snapped back. ::If you just focus on me instead of a specific memory, this should work.::

There was a tense silence as Harry fingered the parchment he had copied the potion on.

Qye exhaled. ::Let's drink this first. The subconscious potion already laid out the foundation, this should work.::

::What happens if this doesn't work?:: Harry asked quietly. ::Or worse? We don't exactly have a great record with potions.::

::Then you can yell at me and say 'I told you so'.:: Qye said wearily. ::Before we go and tell Granger everything.::

Harry's eyebrows shot up. ::Hermione?::

::She's your friend:: Qye said quietly. ::She cares about you, I don't doubt that. Maybe as smart as me. If we have to pick someone to start with, might as well be her.::

::You don't think she'll try to fix us?:: Harry asked carefully.

::I think she'll at least listen to you.::

Harry hesitated. ::What about the others? Dumbledore and…them?::

Qye was silent for a moment. ::Granger first. Then Myn.:: Harry felt a flicker of fear from the other. ::Gods, I hope this works:: he whispered.

Harry nodded.

::In the meantime, let's review:: Qye said, clearing his throat as Harry carefully hid the potion parchment. ::No point in ruining your education:: he tried to joke.

Harry thought as quietly as possible as he brought out his study notes, 'Let it work, please.'


"I'm still worried about Harry," Hermione said one afternoon when Harry was off sending a letter to Sirius. He had fended off their company, promising he would come straight back but needing a moment for himself.

Ron, glaring down at his History of Magic notes which had more doodles than anything, said distractedly, "What else is new?"

Then he sighed and put down his quill, already knowing Hermione's fretful face before he looked up. "I don't know else we can do, 'Mione. You gave him that thought sorter idea and he hasn't said anything else about it." He shrugged and leaned back, folding his arms. "Short of dousing him with Veritaserum and sitting on him, what are we going to do? And don't think I haven't thought of it."

Hermione fidgeted. "Maybe we should talk to Draco?" she said delicately. "See if Harry would be more amenable?"

Ron looked flatly at her.

Hermione blew out her bangs and gave him her own look. "Don't give me that look, I know you're talking with him even though I still don't know why."

Ron looked down and exhaled.

"I've asked." If by asked, he actually meant more like threatened and came away with a few mutual scorch marks. "Something happened at the dance but beyond that, I've got no clue. He just mutters something about Harry wanting space and - " He paused, remembering Malfoy's warning to not leave Harry alone with Opacre at all.

She gave him a suspicious look. "And what?"

Ron chewed his lip and sighed. "He said not to leave Harry alone with Professor Opacre's brother."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

He shrugged. "That's all he said. Mind you, the git's got bad blood with him obviously but the way he said it…" He shrugged again.

Hermione frowned. "You don't suppose something happened between them?" she said slowly, looking confused and thoughtful. "Maybe he's the reason behind this?" She shook her head, frowning more. "No, Harry would have said something." Then she sighed and slumped back against her own chair. "Maybe."

Ron looked out the window, foot drumming against the floor. "I don't know. I just know I don't like the way he's been looking at him."

Hermione gazed at him. "You don't think he means to hurt him, do you?" Her hand unconsciously tightened around her wand.

"I don't know," Ron said, still staring out the window. "I just know either way, it's not going to be good."


Draco slowly rolled his family ring between his fingers as he stared at the fireplace in the common room. It was brighter than usual, no doubt to account for all the students gathered at the tables and couches instead of carefully cloistered in their respective private rooms and rendezvous areas. His own notes were on his lap where he had been reviewing them before casting them aside as soon as he came across a note on Threstrals.

He grimaced and put down his ring on the small table next to him.

More than a month and nothing. No words, no letters, not even a decent argument as an outlet for his frustration. If not for the fact that he saw Opacre's face grow darker with a similar frustration every day, he would have thought the vampire had done something. As it was, he still suspected something, with the way Harry seemed to avoid him as much as he did the Slytherin.

He clenched his hand around his ring, felt the pointed ends of the M dig into his palm.

"Malfoy?"

He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at a bored-looking first year holding out a letter to him. The wide-eyed wonder and hesitance quickly disappeared by the end of year and most of the deference to the older years was washed away by the cutthroat competitiveness.

The first year shifted uncomfortably on her feet as Draco silently regarded her.

Most of it.

He held out a hand and she dropped the letter in his hand, a touch of haughtiness coming back to cover up her uncertainty. "Professor Snape said to open it as soon as you got it. He said he'll be in the teacher's lounge if you need him."

She curiously looked at him as he opened the envelope and blinked when he paused in unfolding the actual letter.

He gave her a look, to which to her credit she did not flinch at but merely frowned and turned away, presumably back to her own studying.

'Greengrass,' he thought as he unfolded the letter. 'Maybe someone to - '

His thoughts ended as he read the letter, the signature at the end familiar from the past summer.

His ring lay forgotten on the table as he quickly left for the teacher's lounge, hand tight on the letter and thoughts of a silent green-eyed teenager on his mind.


"This was foolish."

"Waste of time," someone added, frowning.

"No idea why we teamed up with them in the first place," growled another.

"No results."

"Did better on our own."

"Did we? I was at Norway, that was - "

"We have better now," someone hissed. "He's better, he - "

"Then we don't need this," another insisted. "This was completely useless, we've gotten nothing from it except - "

"We should just eat them and - "

"That's hardly considerate when everything has been set," Lord Voldemort interrupted as he Apparated a few feet from them.

The group of vampires in the room stiffened as a few more pops announced the arrival of the Death Eaters, some scowling as fiercely as a few of the vampires.

"You can hardly blame their restlessness," a voice said in the doorway and the vampires turned as one as its speaker drummed his fingers against the frame. "We were used to more action when we faced the Opacres."

"And how well that worked for you," Lord Voldemort smiled mockingly as he sat at the head of the table. One of the vampires bared his fangs but quickly bowed his head when another raised her hand.

"One week until the exams are over," Lord Voldemort continued, apparently unconcerned with the tension between the groups. "One week until the older students are drained, the professors distracted by the exams for the other years. None of them are wondering and no one will be on guard, as you suggested."

"It worked with Nosle," murmured one of the vampires. "And there won't be any of the Nosle Kids there this time."

"We attack on the last day of exams," Dazain murmured, flipping his broach with his Gemmus in one hand.

The Dark Lord smiled as the vampires and wizards shifted on their feet. "Lord Voldemort always delivers."


Next chapter: "Attack" – O.W.L.s, a potion and the Dazains. It's the end of term.