Muffinlover: Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer of my story :-)  I love getting your opinion on it!! So: thank you :-)  I hope you're continuing your story as well, I really like it a lot!

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Disclaimer: Obviously, none of the mentioned character belongs to me; they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros.

„Professor Dumbledore…," Harry said in a sort of muffled voice for he still had his head buried into Grace's hair, which was laying on the couch.

"Professor, Sir, will she be alright? What do you mean Snape didn't know who he was addressing with his spell? She's just a muggle, right? Do these kinds of spells affect them differently?"

Harry slowly raised his head, took off his glasses and tried to wipe the tears clinging to them away with his sleeve. He only worsened the state of them, but he couldn't care less.

"Harry, this might come as a bit of shock." Dumbledore said calmly, stepping closer to the couch and placing one comforting hand onto Harry's shoulder.

"Let me have a look at her first."


Harry moved aside slightly, and for the first time managed to look at his Headmaster from Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore.

He wasn't a bit surprised to see him here tonight. It has always been Dumbledore who had been there in times of greatest devastation, and especially tonight he couldn't have thought of anyone who'd be able to help him.

But Dumbledore looked very different this night. Certainly, it hasn't been more than a couple of weeks when Harry was standing in his Headmaster's office, raging with fury, feeling as if he was about to bleed to death over the pain of Sirius' death. 

Reflecting on this incident he wouldn't say that he had lost respect for this man, for he was simply the greatest sorcerer of modern times, but he had to acknowledge that even Dumbledore wasn't without flaw, without inaccuracy. And that had taken away a piece of innocence, a reassurance he only had during the last years of his childhood and which had been taken away from him. He felt the profound sadness one only experiences after comprehension like this. For the world wasn't black and white, not good and evil but diverse shades of grey.

Dumbledore was wearing a velvet cloak in dark blue which had millions of golden, twinkling stars attached to it and was trailing onto the ground. His half-moon spectacled glasses were sitting on the tip of his long, crooked nose over his long silver beard. He wore a pointed hat, matching his cloak in colour and material. In all he looked like the typical, fairy-tale wizard but Harry knew better. It wasn't for a lack of reasons that Dumbledore was said to be the only wizard Voldemort ever feared.

But right now the usually twinkling eyes were looking dark with sorrow and deep with worries. He directed his glance to Grace and back to Harry and back once more.

"What is it, Professor? She will be alright, wont she?" Harry demanded of the old man.

"I cannot tell you for certain yet, Harry. For as much as I want to assure you of this, I cannot help but worry…"

"Please tell me what's going on! I've got a right to know," Harry pleaded with him. As much as the situation caused him to feel dreadful, it was the lack of certainty detectable in Dumbledore's voice that made him feel the worst.

Usually he was the last resort he could always turn to. The one to be suggested when things went wrong or questions needed answering.

"Harry, I'm afraid there's a lot that needs answering and I dare say we are not in the right situation to do so right now. There's a time to talk and there's a time to act. Things will be elucidated to you as soon as possible.

Now if you moved aside, I would try to get your friend here back to consciousness. The healers will be arriving shortly as well."

Harry moved, startled. Dumbledore didn't seem to put enough trust in the healers of the ministry to wait for their appearance.

Or did he suspect that there was not enough time? His stomach lurched painfully at the thought as he felt desolation invading him.

He watched apprehensively as Dumbledore drew out his wand and pointed it at Grace.

"Expergiscor!" he muttered, performing a slight wrist movement as he spoke.

They both stared at the girl, still laying motionless on the couch. Dumbledore sighed and turned to Harry.

"It was worth a try. I don't know what the healers are going to do, but I hope…" he let his sentence trail off for they both span around at the sound of a person moving…

Grace stirred and with what seemed to be immense difficult, she opened her eyes.

"Grace! How are you feeling? I'm so glad you woke up!" Harry gasped, struggling for breath while he took hold of her hand, which was still hanging droopily on her side, still cold as ice. Her fingers tightened the hold on his hand only slightly, as if she didn't have the strength to give it a real squeeze.

"What happened? I… I can't remember that much. There was this awful man standing there all at once, where did he go? Is he still here?"

Her eyes full of panic she tried to turn around to observe the room, but winced painfully at the attempt.

"And who is this?" she panted, as her glance first fell upon Dumbledore, who had backed up a little as he saw her waking up, standing in the shadows next to the couch.

"This is Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of my school. You don't have to be afraid, be still, you look miserable."

And that was unfortunately so true. She still was as pale as death, the blood which had run over her cheek started to dry of a little, giving her the dreadful look of someone who had just gotten out of fight. The shadows under her eyes only added to the miserable appearance.

"I'm not feeling well, I know." She said, her voice shaking a little, sounding tremendously unsteady.

"But I can't stay here, this is a mad house. - You're mad, too! Get your hands of me!" she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her hand out of his, jerking away from him as much as possible. 

"Grace, it's still me, Harry!" he said desperately. He was positively confused by her reaction, although he should have known. She was terrified and he couldn't blame her.

Grace made an effort to try and get up, but she seemed to be terribly weak for she couldn't manage as much as to prop herself up on her elbows, her glance tensely flashing through the room, looking like a small animal facing a huge dragon.

"Please, listen to me," Harry begged. "It will be alright, there will be somebody here in a minute," but this seemed to be the worst thing he could say.

"No, I'm not waiting for any other madcap to just appear here, what are you thinking? I haven't completely lost my sanity!"

But this outburst seemed to have been too much for she collapsed onto the couch subsequent to the attempt of getting up.

She flinched out of pain, more blood appearing on the edge of her mouth, making its way down her cheek. Harry had never known that there was another, deeper shade of white until her face started to take on this ashen colour.

"Professor, please! You have to do something," Harry addressed Dumbledore fearfully.

Dumbledore nodded silently, got out his wand and pointed it at Grace, trying to bring this about unnoticed.

„Tranquillitas Somnus," he mumbled and at once the teenager on the couch relaxed and fell silent, her head resting quietly on a pillow, a fraction of a smile softening her features.

"What charm was that?" Harry said, intensely relieved that Grace seemed to have fallen into a soft slumber and now curiosity getting the better of him.

"It is a tranquilizing sleeping charm, causing the addressee to sleep dreamlessly, but very soothingly. I thought that this should be the exact right one, in regard to the situation.

The healers are a little late; they should have been here by now, transferring her to St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's?" Harry said, puzzled. "The hospital for magical maladies and injuries? But…,"

"Do you not think that spell damage would best describe the condition she is in? If you can convince me differently, I'll be more than happy to hear you out, but I do not see any other way of curing her. This spell Professor Snape made use of might have caused even more damage than what meets the eye."

Harry felt definitely uneasy now, but he did not dare ask further question for at this precise moment a loud

CRACK!

penetrated the room, causing him to jump.

Two stern looking witches in white cloaks, all wearing the patch Harry had seen before in the hospital, displaying a crossed bone with a wand, appeared in the middle of the Dursley's living room, accompanied by an extremely old looking wizard, wearing a white cloak as well, with the same patch sewed to it.

Harry couldn't help but think of how extremely mismatched this whole party seemed in the living room of his oh-so-normal aunt and uncle.

The witches nodded to Harry and Dumbledore in silent salutation, stepped closer to the couch and roughly examined Grace. Then they professionally performed quite a few spells, with such ease and swiftness Harry could only make out a blur of wands and mumbled words.

Next second Grace was wrapped in a few bandages, resting on a stretcher which was floating in midair. The witches turned to the wizard who now stepped closer, put golden spectacles on his nose and significantly examined the girl on the stretcher.

"Well Dumbledore, it sure is nice to see you again," he eventually said, without looking up.

"You will have to tell me how this tragic incident came about, of course. I shall need to know every detail so I can come up with the right treatment and the correct potion, as you well know.

Dear, dear, this should not have happened… I guess you are aware of that, are you not?" At this the old wizard looked up at Dumbledore, frowning.

"And goodness, by Merlin's beard, this can't be… Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, as he first sat eyes upon the teenage boy, sitting wearily on the couch, his head in his hands.

"How is it possible that everything comes back to you, boy?" he asked, smiling resignedly.

"I do not know, Sir." Harry mumbled, slightly lifting his head. "But be assured that I do not intend this at any times."

Even though he fought against it hard, he couldn't help but feel his temper rising. What did these people think he was trying to do? He was not the attention-seeking brat the Daily Prophet tried to promote the previous year. But it seemed to be hard for some people to accept it any differently.

"Dumbledore, I will expect your visit in the afternoon of the next day! This girl needs relaxation and the right treatment. But I need information, as I'm sure you understand."

"Certainly I understand, Alvenius, I understand. I will be there for you to answer the entire range of questions you might have. But first allow me to tend to Harry here. He's been through a dreadfully stressful night and he needs help as well."

"I'm fine Professor, I don't need anything. I just want to know,…"

"You shall, at the accurate time, find that I am most willing to answer all your queries, Harry. But first, with your permission, let me perform the same tranquilizing sleeping charm on you as I did on the girl for I fear that you may need a few hours of relaxation yourself."

"I'm fine, don't bother, Professor! I will just, … I'll just need to know what is going on!"

"Please Harry, can you not put enough trust in your old headmaster to realize that I only try to do what is best for you?"

"I believe you do, I just… I thought I could help, you know. And I don't think I'll be able to find any relaxation."

At this Dumbledore smiled. "Believe me, you will. So if you agree, I will perform this charm on you and you will wake up very soon and find that everything has been taken care of. And I will be delighted to answer all the questions you might have."

Harry found it very disturbing to agree into being put to sleep. He felt helpless and completely out of charge, a feeling he despised more than anything else. But at the look of Dumbledore's face, he knew that he didn't have a real choice after all. And he completely trusted his Professor, so he nodded, reluctantly.

"Very well, this will be for the best. Couldn't have suggested anything better myself, Albus." The wizard who Dumbledore had called Alvenius said in a rather smug voice Harry detested.

"So I will see you soon, Professor?" Harry said, starting to feel rather nervous. He had the feeling of being about to be put into a deep anaesthesia, not exactly knowing what is going to happen next or if he was to wake up soon.

"Certainly Harry, certainly," Dumbledore smiled at him, putting a soothing hand onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Now, if you're ready?" he asked calmly.

Harry nodded and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes, a nervous tremble in the pit of his stomach.

The last thing he heard was Dumbledore's deep, meaningful voice…

"Tranquillitas Somnus"

and he felt the innermost feeling of peace and reconciliation flooding through him, swiping away every nervousness and fear, forcing his eyelids to close and to drift of into a deep sleep…

***

"Now don't you wake him! He needs rest, you know! Fred, George, keep these things in their proper place! In your silly store or in your… what do you call it now? Laboratory! Childish, but anyhow. And has anyone seen Hermione? She's been gone for ages!"

It was extremely difficult to shift for Harry. He was feeling so deeply peaceful and calm; his eyelids were so heavy he couldn't open them. He was laying on his back in something he could have sworn to be the cosiest bed he had ever felt.

Feeling utterly peaceful he sighed contently, trying to open his eyes just a fraction. The room seemed to be rather dark although Harry could have sworn it would have been daytime. His vision was rather blurred for he wasn't wearing his glasses.

He moved his left hand, feeling for something like a bedside table where he'd expect his glasses to be. But he realized he couldn't move his hand because somebody was holding it firmly, caressing his fingers with their own.

Surprised, he tried to sit up a little, but realized that all his strength must have been absorbed by this deep sleep he had just awoken from for he wasn't able to lift himself up, falling into his big pillow once again.

"Harry," the person sitting next to him whispered and the next thing he was aware of was Hermione's upper half, clinging to his chest, her brown curly hair covering most of his face, and tickling his neck.

With immense difficulty he managed to put his right arm around her, pulling her closely to him, relishing the comforting feeling of warmth of her body so close to his own.

"Harry, I was so worried about you," Hermione sniffed in a rather muffled voice, for her head was buried in Harry's shoulder.

"Dumbledore told us what has happened. Oh Harry, I could curse Snape," she mumbled and he felt her tremble against him.

"It's ok, Mione," he finally managed to say. "He couldn't have known, really."

She looked up at him, her eyes all red and puffy from crying.

"I know, but he could have checked, really. I feel so sorry for you."

Tears started to rise into her brown eyes again and Harry drew her closer, yet again. He felt her arms wrap around him once more.

"Everything will be alright, I promise. Dumbledore gave me his word that he will explain everything later. Grace should be alright before long, too. Don't worry."

Hermione tightened her hold on him, turning her head a little so he could feel her warm breath on the delicate skin of his neck as she spoke.

"It's not only the girl, Harry." she said softly and he felt his pulse rising. "Snape was about to deliver rather bad news…." Harry was completely baffled as she planted a soft kiss on his neck.

"I'm so glad you're here with us now. We will get through this, you and me and Ron. The way we always do…"

***

A/N: You know what you have to do if you want to let me know what you think about this! So leave a review for me, let me know what you think. Hate it, like it? Any ideas what's going to happen next? Let me know… :-)