Harry awoke in the Hospital Wing in a state of panic. The sheet was clinging to his sweat drenched arms, and he pulled frantically at it before realizing what it was. Taking in several rattling breaths, he fought back the urge to scream and instead tried to calm his racing heart. After a minute of searching the dim fuzzy room, he laid back and stared at the ceiling.

Upon the wide wooden beams a faint light was beginning to grow, illuminating the drifting dust particles like glitter falling from the rafters. Apparently, the sun was already breaking away the night's darkness. Swallowing against his dry throat, he closed his eyes briefly before snapping them open again. He was afraid of what might be lurking behind his eyelids, sure that if they stayed shut for long he'd be transported back to some terrifying place.

The rattling of iron rings against metal drew his eyes down to the opening curtains. Madam Pomfrey appeared around the corner, a tray laden with various breakfast foods in her arms. Seeing that he was awake, she gave him a small smile. "Morning, Harry. I wasn't sure what you wanted for breakfast, so I brought you a little of everything." She helped him sit up in bed, placing a pillow behind his back, and laid the tray across his lap.

Harry reluctantly took a bite of buttered toast while the matron busied herself with cleaning the bed side table. The crispy bread was hard to swallow, but he forced it down before taking a long drink of cool, refreshing juice. "Could I go see Professor Dumbledore after breakfast," Harry asked, finally working up the nerve to speak.

Madam Pomfrey straightened up, her eyebrows furrowed as she turned to study him. "I don't think.." she began but Harry quickly pleaded his case.

"I'll come straight back after we're finished. I just…I just had something I wanted to ask him," he said in a begging tone.

Heaving a sigh, Madam Pomfrey gave a slight nod. "As long as you eat first. I guess I should be thankful you're finally ready to get out of bed." Turning, she continued on to the next table, wiping every surface as she went.

Harry began to shove food at random into his mouth, trying to quickly eat as much as his soured stomach would allow without choking. Each mouthful was like sand that swelled exponentially with his saliva, making it difficult to swallow. He'd barely finished four bites before succumbing to his gnawing stomach and setting the tray aside.

He dressed as quickly as his battered body would allow him, thankful to skip the assistance of Madam Pomfrey this time. It was a fight, but after a few grunts of pain he managed to pull his last item of clothing on. With a quick reassurance that he would go straight there and make no detours, Harry left the Hospital Wing on his own.

Immediately after turning the first corner into the main corridor, Harry realized his mistake. A sea of black robes rolled past as hundreds of students fought their way to their first class of the morning. Upon seeing Harry, eyes widened and heads began to turn as a roar of whispers broke across the crowd. A rush of heat washed over his face and quickly with head bent, he began to make his way through the crowd.

"Is that him?"

"Where? I can't see!"

"Look over there!"

Ducking his head, he tried to turn the corner when a familiar voice rang out above the noise.

"HARRY!"

Turning, Harry saw a flash of red hair sprinting towards him; pushing anyone that stood between them out of the way. Ginny Weasley was inches from throwing herself to embrace him when she pulled up short. The sudden stop caused her to take an awkward step, her hand reaching out to brace against his chest to steady herself. The smell of fresh flowers followed in her wake, causing Harry's stomach to clench tightly against the recent memories of his dream.

"Mum will be right mad that no one has told her you were up," she said, a mischievous smile spreading across her rosey lips. She let her hand slip off his chest and grasp his. "She's been up here every week demanding to see you, but Dumbledore has been more than stubborn."

"It's been a rough recovery," he explained trying to ignore the excitement that tingled over him at having his hand enclosed in hers. He was a little taken aback that Dumbledore had taken the blame for not letting visitors in to see him. "I'm just starting to fell well enough to walk."

"You better get a move on then. Quidditch is coming up quick," Ginny teased with a slight laugh. "Gryffindor needs a captain that's able to play."

Captain? Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise but couldn't hold back the laughter that was building in his chest. It was so unfamiliar on his lips that he had trouble controlling it. "I don't think you'll want me as captain," he said reaching up with his free hand to rub the back of his head in embarrassment. The small movement was enough to cause a ripple of pain down his spine. Thankfully his wince went unnoticed.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders but before she could answer Dean Thomas appeared beside her, a indiscernible look on his face. "Oh sorry, Dean. I saw Harry and had to check on him." Her soft hand slipped from his to intertwine with Dean's. Harry would be lying if he said he didn't feel a strong but if jealously roar through him.

Dean gave a noticeably forced smile to Harry, but quickly returned his attention to Ginny. "We better go or we'll be late for Transfiguration."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but gave Harry an apologetic frown. "You coming back to the Common Room tonight?"

"No. I'm just heading to Professor Dumbledore's office," he said. "Madam Pomfrey said to come straight back. You know how she is."

Ginny's frown deepened. "Well promise me you'll come find me as soon as Satan releases you?"

Harry gave a small laugh. "I promise."

Ginny returned the smile, but Dean was now pulling her away down the corridor. She gave him a wave before turning her attention to Dean, snatching her hand away with a scathing look.

Spirits lifted significantly, Harry watched her until she was out of sight before continuing on to the Headmaster's office. Despite all the stares and murmurs, he arrived at the stone gargoyle feeling the best he had in several months.

"Cockroach Clusters," he said, easily remembering the password from yesterday.

At the top of the stairs, Harry reached out to knock on the oak door but his hand froze, knuckles pressed against the dark grainy wood. His chest had tightened considerably; all the happy thoughts chased from his mind. He knew what had to be done, but how could he justify betraying Dumbledore?

Before he could muster the strength to knock, the door swung wide, revealing the last thing Harry wanted to see. Severus Snape was standing before him, his expression going from scowling to surprise before finally coming to rest on a deep look of loathing. He opened his thin pressed mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, black beedy eyes narrowing slightly as he gritted his crooked teeth into a sneer.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat as his hatred boiled to the surface. It took him a minute to realize his hand was still raised, fist poised to rap against the now open door. Dropping it quickly, Harry returned a scathing look and straightened to full height. He stood blocking the door, unable to bring himself to step aside.

Snape's sneer widened. "Out of the way, Potter," he said barely above a whisper, his voice mirroring every bit of the mallace his face held.

Teeth raking against each other, it took every ounce of control he had to keep his fist from shaking. Harry snarled his nose, but before he could reply Dumbledore appeared at Snape's elbow, a look of surprise apparent on his face.

"Harry, come in," he said, motioning inside.

Harry forced a smile and pushed roughly past a sour looking Snape. Behind him he heard the door shut sharply as he took a seat in the chair across from the Headmaster's desk. It was unforgivingly stiff against his sore body, but he settled in waiting for Dumbledore to address him. Above, the portraits were eyeing him with intense curiosity, some whispering to others as they gave pointed looks in his directions. This did nothing to settle the unease that was rising quickly inside his churning stomach.

Professor Dumbledore took his usual seat behind the mahogany desk, crossing his arms lightly atop it. He gave a Harry a warm smile before speaking. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Harry returned a half hearted smile, but couldn't quite bring himself to meet the professor's gaze. "I…" The words caught in his throat which had become unnaturally dry. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. " I was hoping you'd still be willing to tell me what you were going to yesterday."

Immediately, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his long fingers coming up to a steeple above the papers littering his desk. His sharp blue eyes surveyed Harry's for a minute, searching for something before answering in soft voice. "May I ask why you have had a sudden change of mind?"

Harry instinctively shrugged his shoulders. "I think with everything going on yesterday…" He trailed off, eyes falling to his clenched fist resting in his lap. The excuse sounded feeble, even to him, but what other reason would he have for returning.

The sound of clinking glass caught his attention and he looked up to see that Dumbledore had left his desk. He was now retrieving two small goblets from a tall ornate armoire and uncorking a large decanter of amber liquid. Turning his back to Harry, he proceeded to fill the glasses before returning to his seat. "How about a drink first?" He asked, pushing the glass across the table.

Harry eyed the glass for a minute, watching as the small bubbles swirled around, making their way slowly to the surface. Reaching out, he took the drink and raised it to his lips. At least this was buying him some time to regain his composure.

The liquid was cool against his tongue, but the taste evaded him. A mingle of sour and sweet collided against his taste buds as he swallowed against the lump in his throat. A sudden warm sensation flooded his head causing his thoughts to swirl together in blinding colors. He blinked several times against the confusion clouding his mind, but it only seemed to worsen. Closing his eyes, he steadied himself mentally by taking several long breaths.

"You're okay, Harry" came a voice directly in front of him. A hand was resting against his arm, gripping it reassuringly. "Its a potion. I needed to be able to talk to you without Voldemort listening."

Harry's head snapped up. Dumbledore was leaning back against the front of his desk, his eyes focused intently on Harry. "I don't…"

"It's okay. He can't hear this right now." The professor's voice was calm but urgent. "I'm not sure how long we have until the potion wears off but he can't see this. The drink targets a part of your brain and blocks it, making it seem as if time has stopped completely."

Bewildered, Harry rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses with a shaky hand. "I'm having a hard time understanding," he murmured.

"I understand. It's a side effect from blocking part of your mind. Now," Dumbledore gripped both of his shoulders, forcing Harry to look at him. "My speculation is that he's sent you back for a reason. What is it that he's wanting?"

Harry's eye lids fluttered, and he tried to force the fuzzy feeling away. "I..er… he…he wanted to know what you knew about our connection."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Why did he let you come back to Hogwarts, Harry," he clarified.

Automatically, Harry's green eyes were drawn to the glistening sword sitting upon the high shelf. "He wants Gryffindor's sword."

Dumbledore released Harry's shoulders and narrowed his eyes, apparently lost in thought. After a minute he nodded slowly. "Harry I need to ask something of you, and I'm afraid it won't be easy." His voice was soft but underneath it's calm demeanor Harry could hear the regret fighting to break out. "I can't give you the information you've come for, but I can get you the sword. Not tonight, but soon."

Harry felt his heart sink. What would Voldemort do if he didn't get Dumbledore to talk? His head dropped and he shook it curtly. "He'll torture me if I don't get him what he wants," he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't bring himself to meet those piercing blue eyes as his own green ones filled with tears.

A hand returned to his arm, its thumb stroking him in what was intended to be a comforting gesture. "I understand, Harry. I just need time to find a way to break this connection," Dumbledore said with a strain in his voice that Harry had never heard before.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry nodded. He could feel his mind beginning to clear slightly. It was like static beginning to fade from an old t.v. set. "Will he be able to see this in my memories?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, you can think back to this as often as you like and he'll never be able to see it. But I need you to act like this conversation never happened when the potion wears off. I'm going to tell you that I can't give you that information and you're going to argue with me." The professor eyed him over his half-moon glasses before standing and returning to his seat behind his desk.

"Professor I.." his words faltered. He didn't want to leave there without answers. He couldn't leave there without something. The thought of being alone with Voldemort after failing made his stomach wrench violently. "I don't know if I can do this."

Dumbledore lowered his gaze to his clasped hands. "You've been through more than anyone should ever have to go through, Harry. And you've been so brave. I promise you that I will find a way to get you out of this. I just need time."

Harry opened his quivering lips to reply but a trickling sensation in the back of his mind stopped him short. "I… I think the potion is wearing off."

The old wizard nodded and gave him a reassuring smile that didn't quite meet this weary eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry but I think you were quite right yesterday. We can revisit my thoughts on you and Voldemort when you have recovered more."

The sudden change made Harry stumble for a minute. Don't let him push you away, came a cool voice from inside his head.

"I'm fine,"he retorted. "I want to know why he is able to see inside mind so easily."

Dumbledore heaved a sigh and took a drink from his crystal goblet before answering. "I promise I'll tell you when you're ready."

A flicker of genuine anger jolted through Harry . "When I'm ready," he asked incredulously. "This is my life you're playing with. I think I have a right to know."

"I understand your concern, Harry but I don't think now is the right time."

"When will it be the right time," Harry snapped, all thought of playing along gone. "When I've been tortured again? How about after I lose someone else?"

Dumbledore looked taken aback by the sudden change in Harry's tone. "Harry, you've been through a lot in the last few months. I think you need to take time to process everything before I add more to it. Sirius would…"

Harry was suddenly on his feet, his vacated chair clattering to the floor. "Don't you dare tell me what Sirius would have wanted," he snarled. His breath came in painful gasps as he injuries faded to the back of his mind. Dumbledore was the reason Sirius was dead. He had no right to speak for him. "If you would have warned me about this, Sirius would still be here."

"I am willing to bear the weight of my contribution to Sirius's death but I will not take it all," he said calmly.

Harry gaped at him, shocked by the accusations his statement held. "Forget it," he spat, spinning on his heel and grabbing the door handle.

You're forgetting something, Harry, Voldemort's voice growled angerly in his ear.

He's not going to tell me anything, he thought pointedly but before he could turn around Dumbledore was speaking again.

"We're both fighting for the same thing, Harry. I'm not the bad guy here."

Tears streaked down Harry's face as he closed his eyes. He shook his head slowly, unwilling to turn and face the Headmaster. "You're not the good guy either," he said flatly before turning the knob and leaving.