Jocelyn's A/N: Alas, spring break is flying by far too quickly. On the bright side, Mum and I have been writing like madwomen and got quite a few chapters finished. Many of you should be pleased to hear that several new chapters have been added to the story outline, meaning we have more like fifteen left to go before this tale is ended. (We're still determined to get it done before Half-Blood Prince comes out.

Mum's A/N: Jocelyn is right – her break and my vacation are almost over. In the meantime, we have consumed many calories and produced many words. The story seems to be growing of its own volition! Please review – it's what keeps us going.)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Pride

Professor Smythe-Wellington glanced at the clock as the bell rang, and gestured her dismissal for the Specialized Defense students. As Harry packed up his notes, he heard her say, "Remain after class, Mr. Potter."

Harry froze, startled, and glanced up at her, feeling like a deer in the headlights. Smythe-Wellington raised her eyebrows and held up his application essay. Ah, it must be time for his first evaluation. Gritting his teeth, Harry nodded and sat back down again. "Good luck," Ron muttered at him.

"Thanks," Harry answered as his friends filed out the door. It swung closed with a hollow thud, and he managed not to sigh. Here we go.

Smythe-Wellington held Harry's essay in her hand and stared at him. "Did you discuss your work on this essay with anyone else? Some of your friends, perhaps?"

"Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, Professor Snape, and Professor Lupin," Harry said flatly. He kept his face carefully expressionless as he stared back at Smythe-Wellington. He wondered how she would have reacted if he had added Sirius Black to that list. The thought helped relieve some of his tension.

"An interesting presentation of ideas," she responded, "but apparently not all yours."

It struck Harry then in a burst of shock, then indignant outrage, what she was implying. He choked down the bile that rose in his throat and forced his voice to stay quiet. "I didn't cheat."

He had no intention of giving her any reason to accuse him of lack of control, although she would, he knew by now, find some reason to criticize him whether he was deserving of it or not. Smythe-Wellington's eyes drifted down to his clenched fists. "I'm sure I'm not suggesting that, Mr. Potter," she said lazily. "I merely wish to know in what way your classmates and professors...contributed to your essay."

Harry stared out the window, determined not to let her goad him. "I knew how I felt about becoming an Auror. I just had a hard time finding a way to put it in words. I worked out a list of things with my friends. Then I asked Professor Lupin and Professor Snape why they fought dark wizards, and..." he caught himself, afraid of giving away too much, but then met her eyes challengingly, "and why they joined the Order of the Phoenix."

Smythe-Wellington didn't react—of course, she knew about the Order, Harry wouldn't have mentioned it if he'd thought she didn't, but he knew they were trying to recruit her. After a moment of examining his essay, she asked, "Are you a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Mr. Potter?"

"Not yet."

"Yet?"

"They say I'm not old enough," Harry said, pleased that he'd kept the resentment from his voice. "I'll join when I am."

"And yet you wish to be an Auror," Smythe-Wellington remarked.

"There are other Aurors in the Order," Harry replied.

The former Auror smirked. "I'm aware of that. Attempting to enforce the law while living outside it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded before he could stop himself.

She fixed him with a condescending look. "You are aware, Mr. Potter, that the Order of the Phoenix's existence is contrary to the express wishes of the Minister of Magic?"

"My existence is contrary to the wishes of the Minister of Magic," Harry muttered. "If we did everything he wanted, Voldemort would have taken over by now, and we'd all be dead."

He got a snort in response. "Very theatrical. But you will find that I, along with many others in the Auror Program, take a dim view of violators of the law, for the reason I have just stated."

"But what if the law is wrong!" Harry protested.

"A common excuse made by its violators," Smythe-Wellington said dismissively.

"Just like 'it's the law' is a common excuse to get away with things that are wrong," Harry shot back.

Smythe-Wellington narrowed her eyes at him. "And your solution would be to reduce our society to lawlessness?"

"That's not what I said," Harry sighed crossly. "I don't hate laws. I wouldn't be trying to be an Auror if I did." He gritted his teeth and nodded at the essay she was fingering. "Is it 'acceptable', Professor?"

She didn't even bother to look at him this time. "I will inform you of my decision on this, along with the rest of your class performance, when individual evaluations are given next week."

Next week. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was stretching this out just for the fun of making us all sweat.

Smythe-Wellington seemed already to be thinking about something else. "You're dismissed, Mr. Potter."

Harry stepped out of the room and headed down the hall. As he turned the corner, he slammed his hand sideways into the wall, causing the inhabitant of a nearby portrait to jump back with a startled gasp. Hermione and Ron, who had been waiting for him, both sprang at him at once. Ron glanced at the wall with concern. "Well, mate? What happened?"

Harry made no answer, just headed off down the hall, his hand and his pride stinging.

Hermione hurried alongside them. "Harry, what did she say? Didn't she like it?"

Harry laughed ruefully. "There's nothing I could do or say that she'd ever like."

Ron shot Hermione a warning look, and after an "oh" of dismay, Hermione lapsed into silence. No one said another word as they made their way to their next class.

In Occlumency that evening, Harry was having his worst practice since the start of term, and Snape quickly picked up on his lack of concentration. As Harry picked himself up off the floor, Snape dropped his wand onto his desk and folded his arms, leaning back against it.

"All right, Potter," he said impatiently. "What's the problem?"

Harry dropped his eyes, feeling blood rush to his face. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'll try again..."

Snape cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "Your focus is dismal. Explain it."

Harry hesitated. He was still smarting from Smythe-Wellington's remarks about the Order—and himself—that afternoon, and couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Why couldn't she see what the Order was trying to do? The Order Aurors thought so highly of her (why, Harry had no idea), but she seemed to think them nothing more than criminals. How would Snape understand why that was keeping him from concentrating?

On the other hand...maybe dealing with attitudes like Smythe-Wellington's was something Snape could understand.

"I had my first evaluation of my Auror application essay today." Snape's expression betrayed nothing, but he didn't cut Harry off, so Harry went on. "She said some things about the Order that bothered me a lot. She thinks we're...she thinks I...don't care about the law. I think that's why she doesn't want me in the Auror program. I can't do anything to satisfy her. She doesn't think I'm good enough."

Snape regarded him for a moment, then said, "What do you want, Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked at him. "I want to be an Auror."

"And do you think you're good enough?"

Harry shook his head. "Does it matter what I think? She's the one who'll be giving the recommendations."

With a bored expression, Snape picked up his wand and rolled it between his fingers. "Let me introduce you to a universal truth, Potter. Whatever you choose to do, however you choose to do it, there will always be individuals insisting that you are wrong." His gaze remained on the wand in his fingers. "And there will always be fingers pointing at any mistake you make, and voices to remind you of every mistake you've ever made." He paused momentarily. "You can choose to be intimidated by this, or you can ignore it." He replaced the wand on his desk but continued to stare at it for what seemed an eternity. For a moment it seemed that he had forgotten Harry's presence. Finally, he turned back to him.

"Mr. Potter, if you have truly made up your mind to be an Auror, then you would be best served applying your concentration to your goal, rather than the words of nay-sayers." Harry frowned thoughtfully, and Snape picked up his wand once more. "Now, if we can proceed with your lesson."

Harry stared at him, without readying his own wand. "Professor, can I ask you one more thing?"

Snape sighed heavily. "Go ahead."

Harry took a deep breath, then blurted, "Do you think I can be an Auror?"

"Potter," Snape snarled. "Did you comprehend nothing of what I just said? My opinion should be of no value to you!"

Harry nodded quickly. "I know, but...but it is. I just want to know what you think."

Snape finally gave him a direct look. "Very well. Yes, I can see you becoming an Auror." He snorted. "It would be a very Gryffindor thing to do."

When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, Harry was relieved to find it empty. He dropped into a chair in front of the fire and pulled his knees up to his chest. The rest of the evening had been very tense, with Snape snapping irritably at Harry, almost as if he'd regretted their earlier conversation. In fact, he'd cut the Occlumency short, and sent Harry off with a curt reminder of their next lesson. Now, curled up in his chair, Harry was lost in thought, going over in his mind what Snape had said to him. So intense was his concentration that it was several seconds before he realized that his name was being called in the empty room.

"Harry! Psst! Harry, here!"

Harry's head snapped up, and he found himself staring into the fire—directly into the face of his godfather. "Sirius!" he sat up so quickly that he slid off the seat and ended up sprawled on the hearth.

Sirius burst out laughing. "Whoa, Harry, there's only room for one at a time in here!"

Harry sat up with a grin. "Sirius, this is terrific! How did you arrange a firecall?"

Sirius laughed again, looking slightly abashed. "I didn't exactly arrange it, I just did it. Same way as last year: trial and error."

"Isn't that risky for you?" Harry frowned.

"I'll keep it short. Anyway, it's worth a little risk to talk to my godson," Sirius teased.

Harry couldn't stop smiling, delighted to be talking to his godfather. "It's great to see you."

Sirius smiled back. "So, bring me up to date, Harry, what's been going on?"

"I had my Aurors' Essay evaluated today. Smythe-Wellington wasn't too happy with it," Harry grumbled.

Sirius snorted dismissively. "She's never happy about anything. Don't let her attitude discourage you."

"Well, it did, at first. I was pretty upset," Harry admitted. "But Snape gave me some good advice about it."

Sirius's expression darkened. "When were you talking to Snape?"

Harry shrugged. "It just came up during Occlumency." Sirius seemed to relax at that, and Harry supposed that for all they'd agreed to a truce, anything having to do with Snape would still get Sirius's back up.

"I'm sorry I'm not around when you need someone to talk to," said Sirius sadly.

Harry tried to smile. "I know, me too. But at least Remus is here."

"True," Sirius agreed. "The lucky git!" Harry laughed. "So what's this 'good advice' Snape gave you?"

"He told me—" The sound of the common room door opening caused Harry to sit up abruptly and Sirius to draw quickly back out of sight. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Ron and Hermione came into view.

They both stopped and stared at him, sitting on the floor. "Harry?" Hermione's voice was concerned as she came to his side. "Is something wrong?"

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, joining her.

"He's fine!" Sirius's voice spoke up from the flames. Hermione gave a startled squeal and rocked back on her heels, nearly knocking Ron over.

Ron grinned broadly and joined Harry and Hermione in front of the hearth. "Hey, Sirius! Good to see you!"

"How are things? Hermione? You keeping these two in line?" Sirius demanded.

Hermione gave an exaggerated sigh and shook her head. "I'm trying."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Yeah, she's trying all right."

Harry and Sirius burst out laughing at the expression on her face, and she gave Ron a shove that knocked him off balance. The three of them sat in front of the fire for several more minutes, talking to Sirius about all the goings-on at Hogwarts, then footsteps on the dormitory stairs forced them to exchange hasty good-byes.

The next day after classes, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found the weather too foul to consider losing themselves on the grounds, and the Great Hall was sealed off for some reason, crowding students into classrooms, common rooms, and the library. They avoided the late season blizzard raging outside and prying eyes to find a windowsill in a quiet corridor to sit. "Hang on, mate," said Ron. "You're worrying about evaluations too much. Everyone's in the same boat—well, okay, I guess Smythe-Wellington does hate you more than anyone else in class, but, well, everyone else is really worried too since our careers are riding on this and..." he trailed off. Hermione was giving him a disgusted look.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said dryly, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. It felt good against his scar.

"Harry, you're not getting sick again, are you?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Harry closed his eyes. "Dunno. I don't think so. I just feel a little…worn down."

"I told you," said Ron. "You're stressing too much."

"Could be," Harry agreed.

Staring dully into the swirling white, he suddenly noticed dark figures moving through the snow toward the main entrance of the school. Ron saw them too. "Hey! Do you see that?"

"Yeah," Harry jumped up, fully alert again, and made room for Hermione to join them at the window.

"We're too far to see anything from here," she muttered. "Quick, the stairs above the entrance hall!"

Just as they arrived at their vantage point, the main doors swung open to admit the howling wind—and a group of people, covered in hooded cloaks against the storm, entered the castle. The three friends stared through the staircase railings. Hermione, hand over her mouth, shivered. "You don't think they're…Death Eaters, do you?"

Ron and Harry both put arms around her as the cold blast from the opened doors reached them. They stared at the entourage in the hallway. Harry shook his head. "No, they're not. Look, here come Dumbledore and McGonagall to meet them. Whoever they are, they're expected."

Several members of the group separated from the others, dropping cloaks and hoods to reveal heads of red hair. "Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "It's Mum, Dad, Bill, and Charlie! Percy and the twins too! What're they all doing here?"

Another wizard removed his hood, dusting snow off his close, gray hair. "That's Mr. McGonagall again," said Hermione. "I thought he'd gone back to Edinburgh."

"I rather hope he doesn't," said Harry dryly. "He's good to have around."

Ron and Hermione chuckled softly as Madam Hooch struck up a conversation with the last wizard. The conversation became increasingly animated. As Dumbledore led the way towards the great hall, Hooch and the wizard followed, continuing their conversation, hands moving faster and faster. They entered the hall, still gesturing, and the doors swung shut behind them.

"Ron," Harry whispered. "Any idea who that was?"

Ron thought for a moment. "I think that must be Madam Hooch's brother. He's a professional Quidditch player. Wonder why he's here?"

With all the excitement over, Harry was feeling lethargic again. "Harry…" Hermione began.

He wrenched away from her. "Will you bloody stop it!"

"No!" she suddenly shouted, jumping up angrily. Both Harry and Ron gaped at her in surprise. "Enough of this nonsense, Harry Potter! You never manage to stop pushing yourself past the limits! You get sick, you won't admit it, you get sicker, you get angry and blow things apart—this has to stop! Put your stupid male pride aside for a change and ask someone for help!"

As Harry and Ron simply stared, she collected herself and said in a calmer, if still trembly voice, "You should go have Madam Pomfrey look at you. Just to be safe. You've been sick too much this term to take risks. If there's nothing wrong, you'll be out in twenty minutes."

Harry didn't dare argue. He let Ron and Hermione accompany him and reported to Madam Pomfrey that he was feeling a bit off. She ran Diagnostic Spells and tutted over him for a few minutes, then used her wand to draw a drop of his blood.

"Seeing as this is you, Mr. Potter, I'm going to run a quick test. It will take fifteen minutes, so have a seat."

The three of them obediently settled on one of the beds. "What sort of test, I wonder?" mused Ron.

"Blood Testing Potion, probably," said Hermione. "Add a drop of blood and the Testing Potion shows if there's anything abnormal. Different colors and steams for different ailments or toxins." She glanced over her shoulder as the hospital wing door opened.

Fred and George came in, followed by Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys—Percy included. "Harry, we heard you were here! Anything wrong?" asked Ginny.

"Probably not, I'm just tired, but Hermione made me come have a check-up," Harry told them with a faint smile.

Fred ruffled Hermione's hair, making her growl in protest. "Good show, Hermione."

Ron was hugging Percy in greeting. "How's business?"

"Well enough," Percy sighed as one long-suffering. "When I can get these two to remember that it IS a business." The twins snorted simultaneously.

"Is it…" Harry said hesitantly, "safe for you here?" Percy was still wanted by the Ministry.

"For now," said Mr. Weasley with a sigh. "Professor McGonagall kindly shooed the students out of the corridor so we could come and see you. We can't stay long."

"Arthur, dear, it's time," said Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley nodded, and Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the twins followed their parents toward the door. Madame Pomfrey walked in as the others left.

Harry knew that his own face undoubtedly bore the same stunned look as the rest of his friends' faces. Madame Pomfrey clapped her hands to get their attention. "No one is allowed out in the halls for the next hour. You will all stay here. The doors will be sealed."

She paused for a moment, as if anticipating questions. No one spoke. She turned and walked out and the doors closed behind her with a decisive click.

Ron swung his arm fiercely and sent a pillow flying across the room. "What the hell is going on here and why aren't we included in whatever it is!"

Ginny echoed his complaint. "There's no reason to leave us out. It's not as if we don't know what's going on with the Order!"

"Harry," Hermione gestured excitedly for the others to gather round. "Let's tell Ginny what we saw tonight. I think I may have some ideas."

Ginny nearly fell over in her eagerness. "Saw? Where? When?"

Harry explained the events on the stairway, with Ron and Hermione adding details. Ginny was clearly impressed. A long discussion ensued, regarding the reason for the presence of the wizards. "So what would bring Mr. McGonagall back here? He doesn't usually visit Hogwarts. Their home is in Edinburgh," mused Ginny.

Hermione turned to Ron. "What about the other one? Hooch's brother?"

"He plays for…who else…the Chudley Cannons!" Ron was enthused. "He's the Keeper, and a brilliant strategist."

"Look," said Harry. "What we need to figure out is what's happening in the castle. Is anybody hungry?"

At the sudden change of subject, the others looked at Harry as if he'd lost his mind. "Really, Harry!" Hermione let her annoyance show. "How can you think of food right now?"

"He's not." Ginny met Harry's eyes and laughed. "If I'm right, he's thinking of pumping the house elves for information."

Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded. She'd read his mind. "Brilliant, Harry!" Ron leaped into the center of the room and yelled at the ceiling. "We're hungry in here! House elves! How about some food!"

Within seconds of his outburst, a group of elves appeared in the room and began placing trays of food on a nearby table. "We is happy to help you, sirs and misses." One of the elves was Dobby.

"Dobby!" Harry grinned at him. "Can you stay and visit for awhile? We're rather bored."

"Harry Potter would like Dobby to stay and visit? Dobby is honored, sir."

The other elves finished laying the table and disappeared. Harry and the others gathered around the table and sampled the food.

"Great stuff, Dobby." Dobby gave a little bow in Harry's direction. "You elves must be really busy tonight with all the wizards gathered in the great hall."

The reaction spoke volumes. Dobby's ears pricked like a cat's, and his eyes widened in dismay. "Harry Potter should not be speaking of that," he said in a lowered voice.

"Sorry, Dobby." Harry carefully feigned lack of interest. "We just thought you looked tired."

"Not tired, Harry Potter. But all the house elves is sensing...there is strong magic at work at Hogwarts." Dobby appeared anxious to impress them. "All Hogwarts professors and many other wizards is here to work it."

"Really, Dobby?" Hermione looked at him over her glass. "The house elves are involved in this?"

"Oh, yes, we is very involved. We is…"

"DOBBY!" A voice rang through the room. Startled, they all looked around for its source. A second later, Dobby was gone.

"Poor Dobby." Hermione spoke anxiously. "I hope we didn't get him into a lot of trouble."

"At least we know now," said Harry, "that some sort of spell is being done here. And that it involves both powerful wizards and house elves. But what is it for?"

"I think I might know." All eyes turned to Hermione. "Wards. They're repairing the wards around Hogwarts."

"That would make sense." Ginny agreed. "And it would explain the other wizards."

"Explain how?" Ron appeared puzzled. He shot a look of irritation at his sister.

"Families, idiot. Blood ties. Old magic. I'd wager they're not only repairing the wards…they're raising new ones."

"I don't understand." Ron pushed his plate away. "Why are families so important? Why couldn't they just use the wizards who are already here at Hogwarts?"

"It's…it's bonds of love." Harry flushed, but continued his explanation. "What saved me from Voldemort when my parents sacrificed themselves. What I felt when the Pillar of Storge exploded. It's strong enough to block Voldemort. He can't beat it because he can't understand it." Embarassed, Harry kept his face turned away.

Hermione went on, "And it's the most powerful forms of love: eros love between…well…lovers, or spouses, in this case, filios, love between siblings, and agape, spiritual love, like between parents and children."

"I get it!" Ron exclaimed.

"And we're siblings and children too," Ginny grumbled. "We could have helped."

Hermione was thinking. "I wonder…I wonder if we could," she murmured to Harry.

"Us? How? None of our parents or siblings are here," said Harry.

Ginny tilted her head. "No…but true friendship is considered filiosor agape. It's just as strong a bond, if it's…real." She shrugged sheepishly at them. "I think you and Hermione could contribute."

"Let's help them." Ron's voice brought Harry around.

"What do we do?" asked Harry.

"Warding with a power like love is instinctive," Hermione said. "The wards form from our desire to protect this place from danger."

Then, by unspoken consensus, the four of them formed a circle and joined hands. No one spoke. Suddenly, the walls around them shuddered, as if a powerful force had seized the room. The floor vibrated, and a faint pounding began.

Hermione gasped, but kept her hand in Harry's. On his other side, Ron tightened his grip, while Ginny kept a strong hold on Hermione and her brother.

The force in the room increased, buffeting them. The pounding began to take on a rhythm, to match the beating of their hearts. It was as if the castle itself had become something alive, breathing, the beating of its heart shaking the foundation of the building. The intensity swelled. The group hung on to each other.

Harry felt himself sliding into a trancelike state, a feeling of timelessness, almost a loss of consciousness. He was aware only of the hands in his, the heartbeat pounding, pounding…a surge of something powerful binding them all together. The feeling escalated. The pounding of the heartbeat was going to tear his chest apart. He was vaguely aware that someone near him had cried out. Then the castle came crashing down over him, and everything went black.

"It's all right, Minerva. He's coming around." Harry opened his eyes and found himself staring into the bearded face of Murdo McGonagall. He realized, with a sense of shock, that his hands were empty. Panicked, he tried to rise. "Don't, laddie. They're all fine. You did what you intended to do."

Professor McGonagall appeared beside her husband. She looked tired, but pleased. Producing a familiar crystal vial from her robe, she held it out to Harry. "Restorative potion, Mr. Potter. Heaven knows, you need it."

Harry looked around. The others were sitting up, looking vaguely dazed, attended by other adults. As Harry watched, they received their vials of potion, and began to look around as well.

Murdo McGonagall was standing next to Professor McGonagall, watching Harry. "You know, Harry Potter, my wife is a very canny woman. She told me that we would not be able to prevent you from involving yourself in this." Professor McGonagall shook her head.

"Will this keep Voldemort out now?" Hermione asked from the next bed.

"It's uncertain, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "Warding is a complicated concept. At the very least, the anti-apparition wards are as intact as we can make them. But the point of warding is not to form a simple barrier—barriers can be broken. Rather, it creates a resistance in the very air, earth, and life itself against anything that intends harm. Vol…ahem. Lord V-Voldemort will find himself at a distinct disadvantage if he or his followers attempt to bring their war here. Magic itself is swayed against them."

"How did you know we were involved?" Harry asked.

"We felt you join with us, Harry. And, I believe, you felt us as well," said Mrs. Weasley. She was wringing her hands. "I'm amazed that you only fainted. A child should never participate in so strong a ritual."

Her husband's voice admonished her. "They did well, Molly. And together, they were strong enough."

Harry arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning and slid into the seat next to Ginny. She gave him a smile, then leaned closer to whisper, "Harry, no one here is talking about what happened yesterday." She glanced around the room with a perplexed look. "It's as if it never did."

Harry looked up at the Head Table and met the eyes of Murdo McGonagall, who was seated next to his wife. He nodded, and Harry grinned back. Catching Ginny's eye, he indicated the couple at the Head Table. "It happened," he said, satisfaction in his voice.

Ron and Hermione entered the Hall and joined them at the table. Ron made a grab for the nearest platter, exclaiming, "I'm starving!" and proceeded to fill his plate.

Hermione rolled her eyes, then turned to Harry and Ginny. "Have you noticed that no one seems to be aware of the warding?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, we noticed. Don't you think that's a bit strange?"

Hermione shook her head. "We're aware of it because we were part of it."

Ron paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "You know, that was one of the weirdest experiences of my life."

"Weird is right," said Harry.

"I'd call it intense," said Hermione thoughtfully.

Harry was nodding in agreement when a hand on his shoulder startled him. He twisted in his seat and looked up into the face of Remus Lupin. "If you're finished, take a walk with me, Harry?" Remus smiled.

"Sure," Harry scrambled from his seat and waited for a moment while Remus greeted the others, then followed him out of the Great Hall.

They set off in the general direction of Remus's office. Harry eyed Remus curiously. "Did you need to talk to me?"

"Not about anything special," Remus shook his head. "I just haven't seen much of you in the past few days. Are you recovered from yesterday's little adventure?" He smiled knowingly.

"Sure, I feel fine," said Harry. He paused for a moment, uncertain whether to approach Remus with something that had been in the back of his mind for two days. "I've been having a problem with Specialized Defense, though. And," he paused again, "in Occlumency the other night I asked Snape about it."

"Professor Snape, Harry," Remus corrected him automatically. "Was he any help?"

"Yeah, he was," Harry shot a worried look at him. "Do you mind? I mean, that I asked him instead of you?"

Remus looked puzzled. "Not at all, why do you ask?"

Harry grimaced. "Well, when I talked to," he glanced quickly around and lowered his voice, "Sirius afterward, he seemed annoyed that I'd gone to Snape."

Remus froze. "Talked to Sirius!" He grabbed Harry's arm. "How? Where?"

Harry had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he shouldn't have mentioned it. "He made a firecall to the common room." Remus's jaw tightened, and Harry hastened to reassure him, "It was okay, it was just me. Well, then Ron and Hermione came in."

Remus said nothing for a moment, then he released his hold on Harry, his face tense. "Anybody could have come in."

They had reached the office, and Harry needed to head for his next class. He hesitated at the door. "It was just for a few minutes, and it was really great talking to him. I wish..."

Remus interrupted him. "I understand, Harry. I'll see what I can do about setting up some secure calls, perhaps in here." He smiled. "I'll arrange things with Sirius."

Harry grinned and started off down the hall, but when he turned and glanced back through the open door, Remus was looking towards the fireplace. His expression was distinctly cross.

Harry spent the next few days wondering if he'd survive until Easter holidays. He was anxious to get away, back to Grimmauld Place and time with Sirius. Stress levels in general were running high, as several professors had assigned extra work. There had also been several rather disturbing accidents occuring in Transfiguration during Animagi training which was causing quite a few students to rethink their earlier enthusiasm about making the transformation. Professor McGonagall had assured them that this was quite normal.

On top of that, Hermione seemed to be dividing her time between living in the library and showing up suddenly to harangue Harry and Ron into work-study sessions in the common room. Although he did accomplish more when she was around, Harry was beginning to have fantasies about smothering her with one of the sofa cushions. And Ron had taken to disappearing into the boys' dormitory whenever the common room door opened unexpectedly.

Beyond stressful, Harry would feel his stomach clench whenever he thought about the upcoming evalutions in Specialized Defense. He couldn't imagine that Smythe-Wellington would give him a decent assessment; he just hoped this wasn't going to crush his chances of being an Auror for good and all. By the time he entered the Specialized Defense classroom and took his seat on the day of evaluations, he felt clammy and sick.

Judging by the pale faces and shaking hands of his classmates, however, he wasn't the only one worrying. Even Malfoy was having difficulty maintaining his usual unconcerned slouch; in fact, he was rather stiff and fidgety. Hardly anyone was talking, but the silence was absolute when Professor Smythe-Wellington entered the room. She stood motionless for a moment, but her eyes traveled about the class, examining their faces.

What is this, slow torture? Why can't she just get on with it? Harry fumed, anxiety making him extremely cranky.

"You are about to receive your first evaluation in Aptitude for Magical Law Enforcement, as promised. Remember as you read it that this is a tool to be used by you to correct any deficiencies in your performance in this class. It should also help you to focus on, and enhance those qualities that are your strength. I will be available to answer any questions you may have." She paused. "And one more thing: it is, of course, my preference that you do not discuss your evaluations with your classmates. Any concerns should be addressed solely to me." Once again, she glanced around the room. "Questions? No? Good." She walked over to her desk and waved her wand, and an envelope appeared on the desk of every student.

Harry stared at his for a long moment. Around him, he heard the others opening their evaluations, followed by occasional gasps and groans. He picked it up at last and pulled out the neatly-folded paper. Slowly, he unfolded it and began to read.

Preliminary Evaluation of Student Aptitude and Suitability for Magical Law Enforcement

Subject: HARRY POTTER

Physical/Magical Skills: Student is possessed of physical ability appropriate to age group and exceptional magical skills, however lack of emotional control effectively negates these attributes.

Evaluation: Below Acceptable Standards

Problem-Solving Skills: Student has displayed limited progress in the area of problem-solving. Consistently tends towards over-reliance on the opinion of others. Poor grasp of logic, often shows questionable judgment.

Evaluation: Below Acceptable Standards

Application Essay: Length and content meet required standards. Evidence suggests limited initiative on expression of ideas.

Evaluation: Marginally Acceptable

Aptitude: Student displays evidence of aptitude for Magical Law Enforcement. Progress limited by attitude of unwillingness to exercise greater emotional control. Shows difficulty accepting criticism, responds with resentment and sullen manner. Unless these aspects of student's behavior change, student is unlikely to succeed in Magical Law Enforcement training programs.

"Harry! Psst, Harry, calm down! Breathe, Harry!"

Harry blinked out of the trance of indignant outrage to realize that Hermione was frantically trying to get his attention without also getting Smythe-Wellington's. Following her wide-eyed gaze, he looked at the paper in his hands to see that the edges were starting to smolder. He hissed in surprise, then realized what he'd been doing and forced himself to take some deep breaths the way Remus had taught him. (And quietly put the paper down and began patting its edges surreptitiously.)

He heard Hermione let out her breath in relief behind him, and shot her a quick, reassuring glance. That was close, she mouthed at him; he nodded, and they quickly turned back to their papers.

His initial frustrated anger subsided, he forced himself to re-read the evaluation. He noted the few positives in the report. Adequate physical skills...exceptional magical skills...displays evidence of aptitude for Magical Law Enforcement... A voice spoke from the back of his mind: You would be best served applying your concentration to your goal, rather than the words of nay-sayers.

Harry found himself able to lift his head and looked calmly towards the front of the room. Professor Smythe-Wellington was watching him, and she raised her eyebrows slightly as she met his gaze.

A couple of students approached the desk, obviously with questions about their evaluations. Harry watched as the rest of his classmates either left the room or stood in line at the desk. Next to him, Hermione stood up to leave. "All right, Harry?" She paused for a moment.

Harry met her look. "I'm okay, Hermione, really."

She hesitated for another moment, then nodded and walked out. Ron glanced after Hermione, then back at Smythe-Wellington's desk and apparently decided he didn't feel like braving the professor today. He mouthed, See you later, at Harry, and followed Hermione.

Finally, the area around the desk cleared, and Harry was the only student left in the room. Professor Smythe-Wellington was observing him. "I assume the fact that you remain behind indicates a desire to discuss your evaluation, Mr. Potter." Harry nodded. "Very well, kindly gather up your things and come up here. I have no desire to shout across the room to you."

Harry was reaching down to grab his bag when he heard the door open. He looked up as it slammed shut behind the figure that had just entered. Mad-Eye Moody stumped over to the desk, slapped both hands down on it, and leaned forward. "Priscilla, you've been avoiding me." He grinned at her. "I'm still waiting for your answer."

Much to Harry's surprise and consternation, Professor Smythe-Wellington grinned back at Moody. "Go away, Alastor. I can't discuss this in front of a student."

Moody simply seated himself on the desk. Though he hadn't acknowledged Harry's presence, Harry knew the old Auror had seen him the moment he walked in the door. Moody now shot a casual glance at Harry, then looked back at Smythe-Wellington. "Boy knows why I'm here. I cast a Silencing Charm on my way in, so it's perfectly safe to talk. Have you made up your mind yet?"

Smythe-Wellington folded her arms and turned the same look of appraisal on Moody that she used so often on her students. He returned the look with one of his own. "Well?"

She shook her head. "My decision is unchanged from the last time we chatted, Alastor. Too many of your activities are in direct conflict with the Ministry of Magic." Moody opened his mouth to reply, and she quickly put her fingers over his mouth. "Don't interrupt." To Harry's surprise (and horror), Moody took her hand from his face and continued to hold it. "My entire career has been about upholding wizarding law. I'm not changing my principles now. I'll do what I can for the war—you know that. But first and foremost, I will support wizarding law and the Ministry that makes that law. I see no compelling reason to change my mind at this point."

Moody remained silent for a moment, then grinned at her again. "Perhaps, Priscilla, my dear, you've missed the most compelling reason for joining."

"And just what would that be?"

Moody's grin turned into a leer. "The opportunity to spend more time with me."

Professor Smythe-Wellington laughed outright and pulled her hand from his. "That's enough, Alastor! Now out! I have school business to conduct here, and you're distracting me."

Moody stumped his way over to the door, where he turned and winked at her. "Till next time, m'dear." The door closed behind him. Smythe-Wellington stared at the door for a moment with a look of exasperation on her slightly-flushed face.

Harry found himself wishing he could sink through the floor and disappear rather than face her after having witnessed that exchange. He busied himself gathering up his books and took his time about it before approaching the desk. Professor Smythe-Wellington seemed to have regained her composure and met his gaze calmly as if they'd never been interrupted. "I do not believe, Mr. Potter, that I need to remind you that Auror business is confidential."

Harry shook his head. "No, Professor, it's not necessary."

"We were discussing your evaluation?"

Harry hesitated, then decided he might as well get it over with. "Can I take the rest of the year to improve in this class, or are you suggesting that I drop it?"

She stared at him. "No, I'm not recommending that at this time, but it is something to which you should give careful consideration." She paused. "Anything else?"

"No." Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door.

After finishing the day's classes, Harry figured he'd have time to talk to Remus before dinner. There'd be Occlumency after dinner, so this would be his only chance to find out if Remus had been able to set up another fire call with Sirius.

He had just raised his hand to knock at Professor Lupin's office door when he heard voices inside. He reached for the knob, edged the door open slightly, and peered in. Remus was pacing in front of the fireplace, and although Harry couldn't see that far, it was certainly Sirius's voice issuing from it.

"Oh, come on, Remus, it wasn't that big a risk!"

Remus had turned back towards the fireplace. "It could have been!"

"I waited until late; Harry's always the last one out of there. I did know what I was doing!"

"I'm not saying you didn't, I'm just asking for a little more caution on your part!"

"Caution, my arse!"

"Sirius!"

"Remus, for God's sake, will you relax?" Sirius sounded as if he was trying not to laugh.

Remus sighed in exasperation. "My point is that you could just as easily have come to me. We could arrange a firecall here in my office without risk of exposing you—or Harry."

Sirius no longer sounded amused. "What's this, now I have to get your permission to talk to my godson?"

"Sirius, calm down, you know perfectly well that's not what I meant!" Remus resumed pacing, and as he turned towards the door, realized it was slightly open. "Who's there!" In a second, he had pulled his wand, the door flew wide open, and Harry ended up sprawled across the doorway. "Harry!" Remus pulled him to his feet and shut the door. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! Why didn't you knock?"

Harry stared at Remus. "That was Sirius you were talking to. Why didn't you...why wasn't the door warded?"

Remus smiled. "It was, just not against you."

"Oh." Harry walked over to the hearth and stared into the empty flames. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Remus said quickly. "Just trying to figure out the best means of having future communications between you and Sirius that don't involve him sticking his head into Gryffindor Tower."

"Oh. Okay." Harry somewhat wanted to inquire further, but Remus looked uncomfortable, so he dropped the subject.

"Legilimens!"

Harry fought the invasion into his mind, concentrating, centering...without raising his wand...the feel of his godfather's arms around him...fighting back...rrrgh...Sirius and Remus lighting Christmas candles...laughter...family.

Harry's eyes flew open as the attack ceased. Snape looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "You show some improvement, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt his rapid heartrate beginning to slow and took a deep breath. He kept his wand lowered and stared directly at Snape. "Let's have another go at it."

Snape moved faster than Harry had expected. "Legilimens!"

Fred and Ginny's figures lying helpless on the Quidditch pitch...the shock and disbelief on Sirius's face as he fell toward the veil...Ron held captive by Snape with Hermione slumped at his feet in front of a possessed Harry...

The blood was pounding in Harry's head, and he couldn't breathe as he fought back. The D.A., gathered around him to stop Fudge...Fred and George exiting the Great Hall under an arch of red sparks...sitting in the cave on the mountain talking with Snape...

The attack stopped so abruptly that Harry stumbled against the wall with a gasp. Snape had taken a reflexive step backward and was staring at Harry with a look of incredulity on his face. Harry caught his breath. "Professor?"

Snape schooled his features back into his usual look of bored indifference. "A fast reaction again." He eyed Harry speculatively. "I would be interested in knowing, to what do you attribute your progress?"

Harry straightened up and slid his wand into the pocket of his jeans, using the moment to gather his thoughts. "Everything," he replied honestly. "The lessons in wandless magic—learning the control—working with Remus...and Sirius...on handling my emotions." He grinned to himself, "And of course, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They're always on me about controlling myself."

Snape nodded. "Your friends. Your strength, Potter."

Harry sat down in the chair facing Snape's desk. "The 'power the Dark Lord knows not,'" he whispered. A long moment passed.

Snape walked behind his desk and sat down. "You still don't know if that is in fact the case."

Harry shook his head. "But if it is...hell, even if it isn't, it still bothers me. People I care about are going to be on the front lines with me when Voldemort makes his move. And if it is true, that in some way, they're pivotal to my ability to fight him, then they have to be there. Directly in harm's way...because of me."

Snape shot him a withering look. "Is there a point to all this?"

"A point?" Harry sat up straight in disbelief. "The point, sir," he spat out, "is that I don't want them to die because they have to be there with me!" He threw himself back in the chair again, and the heavy wood gave a creak of protest.

Snape ignored Harry's outburst. "It is you, Potter, who are missing an important point to all this. All of these people have as much invested in the destruction of the Dark Lord as you have. They are fighting for the Order, for their families, for their friends. They are fighting every bit as much for the preservation of our world as for you. And if you were suddenly gone, Potter, they would still go up against the Dark Lord. They will fight, with or without you, because that is what they must do...what all of us must do...if any of us are going to survive."

Harry stared at him in shock. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Snape took a deep breath. "This is reality, Potter. Nothing you can do will change it, and there is no time or energy for any of us to waste trying to deny what must be."

Harry flinched and looked away. "Bloody reality," he muttered.

Snape gave a faint snort. "Of course. It always is. Accept it and move forward, Potter. That is your only option."

The final Friday before Easter holidays began, students crowded the halls, making their way from classroom to office to drop off papers and projects and finish whatever was required before the Hogwarts Express left.

"I am so glad," Hermione sighed, "that our break begins tomorrow. I'm going to collapse for the whole week."

"Yeah, right," Ron laughed. "You just want to get back into," he lowered his voice, "the Black library. You'll be collapsed under a foot-high stack of books!"

Harry grinned, and Hermione giggled. "That sounds about right!"

They joined a queue of students lined up at the door of the Specialized Defense classroom. Ernie MacMillian and Seamus Finnegan greeted them as they joined the line. "From the looks of this crowd," said Seamus, "she didn't scare off nearly as many students as she expected to."

"Not if they're all here for the same reason we are," Ron replied. "To pick up their Auror application packet."

The line moved forward slightly, and a student stepped through the doorway just as another came out. Draco Malfoy, carrying a thick packet of papers, came to a stop next to them. "Well, Potter," he surveyed the group with a look of distaste. "I'd figured that you'd have given this up by now."

"I hadn't noticed you doing any better with this class than me, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked. "Maybe not. But I have one advantage that you don't have."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really? Don't hold me in suspense, Malfoy!"

"Exactly right." Malfoy laughed. "I'm a Malfoy We get what we want." He turned and walked off.

Behind him, Hermione gave a snort of derision. "Oh, really? I'm a Malfoy," she mimicked in a prissy voice.

Ron glared after him. "That git. Thinks his money will get him everything."

Harry shook his head. "Not this time. Professor Smythe-Wellington doesn't strike me as the kind who can be bought off, by a Malfoy or anybody else." Hermione glanced over at him with a questioning look, but he didn't elaborate.

The line continued moving fairly quickly, as one student after another picked up their packet and left. Ernie, Seamus, Ron, and Hermione, stepped off to the side, packets in hand, to wait for Harry as he went in.

Professor Smythe-Wellington was seated at her desk with a pile of application packets in front of her. To Harry's surprise and gratification, Remus Lupin sat beside the desk, marking off the list of students as packets were picked up.

Harry approached the desk, and Professor Smythe-Wellington held out his packet without really looking at him. "Going through with it then, Mr. Potter?"

Harry took his Auror application and glanced at Remus, who was marking his name off the list of students. Remus winked at him. Smythe-Wellington looked up, and Harry met her eyes steadily. "Of course."

Her lips twitched slightly, and if it had been anyone else, Harry would have thought she was suppressing a smile.

To be continued...

Coming next weekend: Our heroes go home for the Easter holidays, but when Hermione's family winds up the target of a Death Eater raid, Harry finds himself in the path of a deadly curse. And back at Grimmauld Place, there's trouble in paradise as tensions mount between two old friends who are finding it harder than they thought to share Harry's guardianship in Chapter Thirty-Six: April Showers!

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