A/N: Whew! What a week! As many of you may have heard by now, Battle of Wills was almost deleted last weekend because it was felt that my FAQ responses at the end of each chapter made it "interactive." It seems I misinterpreted the rules, fortunately they have given me the chance to fix the problem and keep my story here. Therefore, I obviously can no longer answer reader questions here, but I will continue to do so at my Yahoo Group, via email, or at the OWL Archive. You'll find all these addresses on my author page. Many thanks to everyone for their messages of support and assistance, especially RossWrock (I hereby plug his marvelous story Harry Potter and the Power of Time) and Potions Mistress of the OWL Archive.

Chapter Thirty-Six: April Showers

"Good thing we get to Floo home for Easter hols," said Ron, looking out the common room window. "It's pouring out there."

Hermione put down her suitcase and shrugged. "April showers bring May flowers."

"And what do April thunderstorms bring?" Harry asked wryly.

"May trees falling," said Ginny. "Come on. The Hogwarts Express lot is long gone by now."

They were collecting their bags and heading for the portrait hole when someone spoke up from an armchair facing the fire. "Figures you'd get special treatment even on the trip home."

Hermione and Ron jumped, and Ginny and Harry stared as Jack Sloper turned the chair sideways, watching them sullenly in the light of the fireplace. "Happy Easter to you too, Sloper," said Ron curtly. "Have a nice holiday. C'mon," he said, beckoning to Harry.

Harry started to follow obediently, but Jack said to Ron, "You don't care about your family at all, do you, hanging around with him? You do realize it's only a matter of time before one of them gets blasted in the crossfire."

Harry swallowed bile; he reminded himself that Sloper had lost a relative and was probably still grieving. Fortunately, Ginny prevented him from having to speak by answering, "If you weren't so busy being a prat, Sloper, you'd realize that Harry's not responsible for what Voldemort's lot does." Jack jumped. "And we don't walk out on our friends when they're in trouble."

"Spare me the tripe," Jack snapped, standing up. He glared bitterly at Hermione and said, "You at least ought to be smarter than that, Granger—you're Muggleborn! You might as well put a big target on your head! Is he really worth it?"

Without hesitating for an instant, Hermione responded. "Yes. He is." She came to Harry's side and pulled his arm. "Come on." They left Sloper standing there, looking half confused, half disgusted, as they went out the portrait hole to depart Gryffindor Tower.

"Don't you think about it," Ron told Harry as they walked to Dumbledore's office. "Don't."

Harry was quiet, and Hermione added, "We've been through this before. You can't question yourself and our friendship every time someone uses it to give you a hard time."

"I know!" Harry said, more sharply than he meant to. He gave Hermione a weak smile as reassurance, then shook his head. "I just...was thinking that I'm really grateful." Blood rushed to his face, Hermione beamed, and he hastily looked at the floor before he saw Ron and Ginny's reactions. He heard Ginny giggle, but told himself firmly, I AM grateful. Not to mention lucky. I can't do this without them.

One of the things Harry's Emotional Magic book had said was that an emotion must be embraced in order to take full advantage of it. Well, that was simple enough with defensive magic—self-defense was easy to embrace. But offensive magic was different, he'd come to realize; it meant either embracing malice and rage like Voldemort, or finding some other emotion to drive an attack. So far, he hadn't been able to figure that one out.

But one thing Harry had realized he needed to accept was his feelings about his friends. He needed them. Even if they weren't that "power the Dark Lord knows not," he still needed them. And maybe their friendship wasn't the power the prophecy talked about, but it still had power. It had just taken him awhile to realize that.

They Floo'd from Dumbledore's office, but arrived in the parlor of Twelve, Grimmauld Place to hear a commotion in the entrance hall.

"How many?"

"At least two dozen—that's a kill strike! Tonks, get reinforcements there on the double!"

"FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BLOOD TRAITORS, HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS—"

"Shut UP! Bloody SILENCIO!"

The front door was opening and closing loudly, some of the other portraits were still screaming, and people were yelling. Harry dropped his bag and ran.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were at his heels as he burst into the entrance hall. "What happened!"

"Sirius, Remus, we've got it, stay here with—Harry!" Bill Weasley pressed back against the wall so Mad-Eye Moody could get past him out the door. "Listen, all of you, there's an emergency—"

Someone pounded on the door. "Casualty!"

Bill threw the door open, yelling at them over his shoulder, "Get back!" and Percy stumbled in, supporting an Order member Harry didn't recognize.

"More coming!" Percy warned. "They've got anti-Apparition wards up!"

Sirius swore and spun toward the stairs. "I'll get the Portkeys!" He gripped Harry's arm as he ran past, but had no time to do more than swiftly meet his godson's alarmed eyes. Remus had the wounded wizard by the other side and was helping Percy guide him into the parlor.

"Sirius, get the emergency kits too!"

"They're coming!"

Bill opened the door again to admit another casualty, and Hermione cried, "Dad?"

Mr. Granger was holding a cloth to his bleeding lip and moved as though his ribs pained him. He was still struggling against Emmeline Vance and Mr. Weasley. "Moira—my wife—get-her—"

Harry's blood went cold as Hermione shoved past him. "What's happening!"

Mr. Granger turned dazed eyes toward his daughter and gasped, "House...they're at the house—"

Mrs. Weasley and Bill came in and firmly steered the injured Muggle to the parlor. Harry could hear groans and barked instructions from Sirius. Mrs. Weasley hurried back to Hermione. "Hermione, dear, your house is under attack. Your father's going to be fine, and the Order is getting your mother out now."

Harry and Ron grabbed Hermione's arms as she swayed. "They said—kill strike..."

"We've got the whole Order on it," Mrs. Weasley tried to assure her as two more injured wizards were brought in, but someone bellowed from the parlor.

"Molly! We need you!"

"Harry, Ronnie, look after her," Mrs. Weasley hurried away. "Bill, get me two vials of Blood Replenisher!"

Bill went sprinting down the stairs and shouted over his shoulder at them, "Get out of the doorway, you lot! Let us work!"

Ron and Harry steered Hermione to the foot of the main staircase, out of the entrance hall and away from the parlor doors. Ron sighed and tried to get her to sit down. "They're right. We'd just be in the way."

Hermione wasn't listening to him, but to the noises from the entrance hall. The front door was still opening and closing, Mrs. Black was screaming again, and people were still running around. "We're cut off from the house!" someone shouted.

"Shit! Where's our reinforcements!"

Ginny tried to take Hermione's arm, but she wrenched away, refusing to look at them. "Hermione..." Ron began, getting up, but she ignored him as she pulled the little charm bracelet that her parents had given her for Christmas off her wrist. "What're you doing?"

Hermione tapped the bracelet with her wand, still not looking at them. "Portus."

"NO!" Harry and Ron lunged forward and grabbed her, then Harry felt a tug on his navel that pulled him away in a rush of wind and color.

They landed in a sunny bedroom with a neatly-made bed, light curtains, and a soft, pale carpet. It would have been quite pleasant but for the bedlam going on outside it. Harry untangled himself from Ron and Hermione and scrambled to his feet. "Where are we?" he hissed.

"My room," Hermione said, holding out the bracelet to them. "You two should go back." When they both looked at her in disgust, she sighed and put it back on. "All right, then. Shh." She led them to the door and peered out. "Downstairs," she whispered.

Harry could hear shouted curses, groans...and a woman sobbing somewhere below. Hermione stiffened, and his skin crawled as they crept out onto the landing. By the look of it, much of the Grangers' house had already been ransacked. Hermione peeked around a corner and beckoned noiselessly to them.

Death Eaters were crowding the ground floor, some injured, some arguing, some throwing hexes through the windows, some harassing an injured Auror lying on the floor, and others taunting the unarmed woman huddled in a corner. "Whaddaya think of our world now, Muggle scum?" one sneered. "Thought your brat could just waltz in and play at being a witch?"

"I'll show you a witch!" laughed another. "Crucio!"

As Mrs. Granger screamed, Hermione struck. "Ferito!" The blast of the curse threw both Death Eaters into the dining room table, and curses from Harry and Ron dropped three more. "Mum!"

"Minuofracta Ictuo" Harry yelled. "Ron, cover them! Percutio!" Ron threw shields in front of Hermione and her mother as Harry blasted out the windows. They had to let the Aurors know they were here.

Taken by surprise, the Death Eaters in the house tried to rally, only to hear the noise of an Order assault growing outside. Hermione yanked her mother behind the kitchen counter and rejoined Harry as Ron followed with the wounded Auror. "Tectus! Plagas!"

"Contego! We need their wards down," Harry said. "Any ideas?"

"They must be—duck!—temporary—Pressum!" said Ron.

Hermione fired off two curses at Death Eaters as they came through the door and said, "I can do it; I live here. Cover me!"

Harry and Ron conjured the strongest shields they could, and Hermione threw up her hands and shut her eyes. "What—" Mrs. Granger began.

There was a dazzling flash, the remaining unbroken windows shattered, and paint cracked off the walls. Harry heard many rapid cracks in succession as Order members and Aurors apparated in, but Hermione dropped to the floor. Mrs. Granger cried out and scrambled toward her as Death Eaters began yelling, "Pull out!"

"Out of the house, quick!" Ron yelled, grabbing the wounded Auror. "They'll burn it! Get Hermione!"

But Mrs. Granger was already pulling her exhausted daughter upright, so Harry ran ahead of them and led the way. From what he could tell, most of the Death Eaters were trying to disapparate, though a few were throwing Incendio curses at the carpet and curtains as they fled. Harry and Ron used their wands to hit the smoldering spots with jets of water as they made their way out. Some of the other Death Eaters were already pinned down and simply fighting to escape capture.

"POTTER!" bellowed a familiar voice, and Harry spotted Snape in the fray, dueling with the elder Goyle. The former spy waved Harry toward the edge of the garden, where most of the fighting had stopped and other injured were being gathered.

"Go, quick!" Harry told Ron and Mrs. Granger, keeping them shielded as they led their charges along. "Stay low!"

It seemed they would escape the melee unnoticed—until Goyle, Sr. stunned Snape and regrouped with two other Death Eaters, all throwing hexes in every direction.

"Watch out!" Ron yanked the injured Auror to the ground and conjured a shield, but a powerful Blasting Hex slammed into the ground at Harry's feet, throwing him one direction, Hermione and her mother in another.

Snape got up and caught one of the Death Eaters in the back, but Goyle and the other had recognized Harry and Hermione.

What happened next happened so fast...

Harry was trying to scramble to his feet, reaching for his wand desperately, when he heard Mrs. Granger shout, "Hermione!"

He saw Goyle aiming directly at Hermione, who had also been left wandless by the powerful blast, when Mrs. Granger threw herself across her daughter. There was no time to reach his own wand as Goyle roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Green light aced toward Hermione and Mrs. Granger. Harry didn't even hesitate, but surged upright to put himself directly between Goyle and his targets. The last thing he heard was Hermione's voice, screaming hysterically, and the last thing he saw was Snape's face, frozen in stark terror, before his vision erupted in a blaze of green.

The green light of the Killing Curse faded, leaving a curious pins-and-needles sensation as Harry drew a shaky breath. He blinked once, then again as his vision slowly focused and his other senses re-oriented themselves.

The first thing he heard was muffled sobs nearby and groans of pain further away. The first thing he saw was a large bundle of black robes in the grass a few paces in front of him.

"Harry?" someone squeaked from behind him.

He started to turn, but balance deserted him, and he wound up dropping to his knees in the grass, feeling the beginnings of what he instinctively knew would be a monstrous headache.

Bloody hell...I think I just survived another Killing Curse...

Ow.

Someone grabbed his shoulders—hard—and he found himself staring at Snape's white face. The Potions Master was as wild-eyed as when he'd found Harry in his Pensieve, and almost as angry. "You STUPID boy! You bloody IDIOT!" he roared, shaking Harry vigorously.

"Stop it," Harry muttered distractedly, trying to pull away.

Snape only tightened his grip and shook harder, causing Harry's still-tingling nerves to scream in protest. "What the HELL were you thinking! Do you have ANY IDEA what would have become of us all!"

"Stop it!" Harry grunted as his head pounded in time with the shaking.

"You are THE MOST THOUGHTLESS, RECKLESS—"

"You're hurting me!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape broke off, alarmed yet again, and held Harry upright as he began to sag. "Potter, where ds id..." The rest of his words faded to nonsense amid the roaring in Harry's ears. The late afternoon sun was much too bright, forcing Harry to squint and clumsily try to shield his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was someone easing him onto the grass...

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Harry, can you hear me?"

"Mm-hm."

"Can you open your eyes?"

Harry tried to shake his head and immediately winced. "Mm-mm."

"Harry—"

"Head's...bloody...killing me..."

It really was. Harry was convinced Grawp must have got together with some giant friends and used his head for a football. Even the tiniest movement brought an explosion of pain that started somewhere above his eyes and seemed to ricochet back and forth inside his skull.

But someone familiar was holding his hand tightly, and a cool, damp cloth was being pressed against his forehead. A waft of some vaguely familiar potion reached his nose. Ahh, that helped a lot. Harry opened his eyes a crack and saw his godfather's white face. "Hey, Sirius."

"Hey, kid," said Sirius with a weak laugh. "You just took ten years off my life!"

"Huh? Oh, er...sorry..." Harry mumbled, not quite sure what he was apologizing for. "Wha...what happened?"

Sirius sat back and rubbed his forehead, brushing strands of long hair out of his face. "Well...the Aurors are going mad—you're now 'The-Boy-Who-Lived—twice!'" Harry groaned, and he grinned. "It's your own fault. Anyway, Hermione's fine, if a little hysterical, and Mrs. Granger will recover as well."

"Oh," Harry groggily rubbed his eyes. "Good—oh!" Then he remembered. "Bloody hell, Hermione's mum—"

"Easy!" Sirius exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest. "I told you; she's going to be fine. They're all just shaken up. And just a bit—"

There was a knock at the door, followed by it being quickly opened. "I heard voices," Remus explained when Sirius frowned at him. "Ron and Hermione will be climbing the walls soon if they're not allowed to see him."

Sirius's face softened, and he looked questioningly at Harry. "Sure," Harry said, gingerly sitting up. His head didn't feel quite ready to explode anymore; the pain had lessened to a dull throbbing.

Sirius was propping a few more pillows behind him when Ron and Hermione came rushing in. Both were white-faced, and Hermione looked as if she'd been crying very hard. And she was still crying, as she practically threw herself at Harry, making his head pound from the impact.

"Ow."

"Hey! Careful there," Sirius exclaimed, tugging her back.

"Oh," Hermione squeaked, and sat back, blotting her face on her sleeve. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean, but—Harry, why—how could you—"

Ron was almost as distraught as she was. "Why'd you do that, mate!" he demanded. "You could've—you almost—"

"Harry," Hermione said, swallowing her sobs. "If you'd died, we'd have...we'd have...lost!"

"What!" Sirius exclaimed.

Oh, bugger...think fast...Harry shot Hermione a glare. "Don't exaggerate. I'm not as important as all that—and even if I was," he said sharply when his friends started to protest, "I...you two always talk about dying for me. Why shouldn't I be able to do the same for you?"

"Because—" Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.

"Look, mate, you just can't—"

"Yes, I CAN!" Harry shouted, then winced as his head made a thunderous protest. When his ears stopped ringing, he looked at Ron and Hermione and said the first thing that came to mind. "Sod the war. I can't do this without you."

From the doorway, Remus made a noise of protest, and Sirius stiffened. "Harry, you...really, you don't mean that..." Harry looked him in the eyes, and he broke off in dismay.

Turning back to Hermione, Harry said quietly, "You've told me for months that you'd stay with me no matter what, that you chose to be my friends no matter what it might cost. Well, I've made my choice too: you're not dying in this war if I can prevent it. No matter what I have to do. I've realized...I guess..." he took a deep breath. "I'd rather die than...than let you..."

Ron and Hermione looked mutely at Sirius and Remus, but no one seemed able to come up with a thing to say. Even if they had, it wouldn't have made much difference to Harry.

I've made my choice.

"Of all the thoughtless, reckless teenagers I have ever had the misfortune to be in charge of, Potter, YOU are the worst!" Professor Snape stormed at him in Occlumency the following night. Harry had told Snape what he'd told his friends, but unlike his friends, Professor Snape wasn't having any trouble coming up with things to say. "I begin to wonder if the DarkLord's possession attemptshave indeed addled your brains. Are you completely INCAPABLE of comprehending your importance in this war?"

Harry leaned against the wall throughout Snape's tirade and found himself, incredibly, fighting the urge to smile. He'd had this same conversation over and over in varying forms for the past day since getting back from Hermione's house, interspersed with fits of hysterics from Mrs. Granger, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Ginny, and Dobby.

All of them had questioned Harry's sanity, but it was Snape who was being the most eloquent about it. But to the intense frustration of all concerned, Harry was still refusing to budge.

"Do you recall NOTHING of what we discussed over the holidays!" Snape was currently bellowing. Harry nodded. "Then why do you REFUSE to accept—"

"I HAVE accepted it!" Harry said, raising his voice over Snape's. "I know, all right? I know I'm the one who has to win this. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"And yet," the Potions Master fumed, "you risked your life—bloody near LOST it—for the Granger girl! Why!"

Harry sighed and paced away from the wall. "I know that...that...technically, I'm more important than they are." He turned and looked Snape in the eyes. "I just don't care."

"POTTER—"

"Do we have to keep having this conversation?" Harry demanded, exasperated. "You're not going to change my mind, sir!"

Snape spat a rude word and turned away, stalking furiously around the basement kitchen table. Funny, Harry thought, Snape, Sirius, and I all pace when we're angry. Remus tended to stand stock-still when he was upset. So did Ron. But Harry could never stand still when he was aggravated, and had seen Sirius stalking about in a foul mood often enough to recognize that Snape was doing the same thing.

He had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning and agitating Snape further.

Snape's temper wound down at last, and he switched from ranting to lecturing. "Whatever your feelings regarding your friends, Potter, it should not have escaped your notice that Hermione Granger was being protected at the time by her mother. You need not have thrown yourself into the path of that curse." Harry opened his mouth to respond, then caught himself. Snape frowned at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What, Potter?"

Snape stared so hard that Harry turned away, not wanting the Potions Master to manage to read his mind. (He still thought that Occlumency sounded and felt like mind-reading.) Finally, he grumbled, "I was just thinking that would've been rather small consolation to Hermione."

A hand slammed into his shoulder and forcibly turned him around, and Snape's gaze bored into his. "So that's what it was about," Snape said, in quiet-yet-utterly-disgusted voice. "Your bloody saving people."

"It was NOT!" Harry shouted, shoving him away. "I just...I wasn't thinking about that."

"What were you thinking?"

Now it was Harry who began pacing. "What does it matter?"

"It matters, because we have the responsibility of keeping you alive." Snape stepped in front of him. "I saw your face; you knew precisely what you were doing and what the cost would be. Why?"

"I don't know," Harry groaned. "Look, I wasn't trying to kill myself, I just...I didn't want her to...I couldn't..."

"She was protected."

"Her mum wasn't," Harry muttered. "I just didn't..." His throat tightened, to his horror, and he turned away.

Snape was silent for several moments. "I see," he said quietly. He almost sounded sympathetic, but Harry was too busy trying to control the burning in his eyes to pay more attention to it. "Potter, no matter what you or I or anyone else attempts to do, there will be casualties in this war. History, logic, and the simple odds promise it. You cannot take it upon yourself to deny what must be."

Harry stopped pacing and folded his arms against the clenching of his insides. "I know," he muttered. "I know I can't protect everyone. I just...right then...I could. So I did."

"But in your zeal to protect one, you may condemn us all. Remember that."

"I do," he sighed.

"Good. Legilimens!"

Harry flinched under the barrage of memories and struggled to push Snape out. His head hurt, he wanted to sink into someplace dark and quiet—wait.

Darkness...

He imagined himself sinking down, down, down, into the dark...the images were receding...

"Potter."

Harry blinked. "Did it work?"

"In a manner of speaking. However, you did not expel me from your mind, merely pulled me with you into a place where I could not see your thoughts. That takes too long and would not imprison an accomplished Legilimens," Snape told him. "You must push me out."

"How!" Harry demanded in frustration.

Snape was untroubled. "You are making progress. Perhaps you should consider what you have just done—and do the opposite."

"What I've just..." Harry frowned to himself, replaying the move in his mind. "Oh..." The opposite of down and in...up and out. The opposite of darkness... "Okay."

"Legilimens!"

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated on wiping out the flow of memories in a blinding...burst...of...LIGHT!

Snape staggered backward, dropping his wand, blinking in a way that made Harry suspect he was seeing stars. But then he straightened, and Harry braced himself, concentrating with all his strength on light, blinding white light, a wall of nothing in his mind that he could push out.

"Legilimens!"

LIGHT!

"Legilimens!"

LIGHT!

"Legilimens!"

NOTHING BUT LIGHT...

Snape lowered his wand and rubbed his eyes. "Interesting," he remarked.

"What, sir?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Most Occlumens use darkness as their block. However, light seems to work best for you, and I see no reason to change it."

"Meaning I've got it?" Harry pressed.

Snape shot him a withering look. "Yes, Potter, you have established a viable method of Occlumency. However, I remind you that against the Dark Lord, you will be facing an attack of considerable power. There will be no time to brace yourself, you will be wandless, and most likely facing other spells designed to weaken you. Your ability to close your mind must be without weakness."

"How strong is Voldemort's attack likely to be?" Harry asked, frankly curious.

With a faint grimace, Snape muttered, "I have never been subjected to the full power of his Legilimency skill, but from what I have seen...it is extremely painful."

Harry frowned. "Are you attacking me with full power during practice? It doesn't hurt."

Snape shook his head. "No. I have never attempted to Legilimize anyone to the limits of my abilities."

"Maybe you ought to," Harry suggested. "I'd like to have at least some idea of what I'm really up against."

"There are risks to that," said Snape.

"There's a bigger risk to my getting caught by Voldemort unprepared," Harry pointed out.

"True," Snape muttered, studying the wall. At length, he looked at Harry and said, "I agree it might be wise for you to be forewarned in this manner. But given the risk, I want you to summon your godfather."

"Sirius?" Harry said in surprise.

"If only to forewarn him that I am not harming you out of some sadistic motivation," Snape said dryly. "You might also see if any Aurors are present. I believe they use a Potion at the Ministry that mitigates the effects of a severe mental attack."

Harry nodded. "All right then. Should I go now?"

"If you are determined to try this, yes." Snape sat down at the table, and Harry hurried up the stairs.

It didn't take him long to find Sirius and explain what they were going to do. Sirius was less than enthusiastic about the prospect, but agreed to come back with Harry. They ran into Remus and Tonks on the way to the basement. "Oh, Tonks, Professor Snape said something about a Potion that Aurors use for people who've been Legilimized."

"He's hitting you that hard?" Tonks exclaimed. "That's dangerous!"

"Just this once. I asked him to," Harry explained. "I think I'd better see for myself what's coming. Voldemort'll probably hit me with everything he has."

Tonks pulled a face. "True. I can get you some, in that case. I'll pop down to the Ministry."

"I'll wait for you here," Remus said to her.

Sirius nodded to Tonks. "Come on, Harry." He led the way back to the basement.

Snape sneered at Sirius as they came through the door. "Potter's explained this little experiment to you?"

Sirius nodded curtly. "Get on with it, then."

With a dry nod, Snape rose from behind the table and came around to face Harry. "Stand back," he told Sirius. Harry could see Sirius gritting his teeth as he did so, and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Potter, take the time to prepare yourself completely. This will be the most violent mental attack you've ever faced."

"Right." Harry closed his eyes. Light...bright...LIGHT...no other thoughts...no feelings...lightlightlight... He waited until he was sure that if he opened his eyes he'd still see light, and said, "Ready."

"Very well."

Then the front of Harry's head ripped open.

He never heard Snape say "Legilimens," all he knew was that a ripping, searing pain tore into the front of his skull as if someone had just stabbed it with a huge metal spike. He flew backward, screaming, clutching his forehead, unaware of anything except agony. Color and vaguely familiar sensation erupted in front of his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

It wasn't until his ears stopped ringing and he could concentrate on something other than the agony in his head that he became aware of his surroundings. He was cradled against someone's chest, and though he thought he could hear again, the room was full of noise. Someone was yelling—him? No, someone else—several people. He was being jostled about, and he groaned in protest, still holding his head, but no one seemed to hear him.

"I said back off, you bloody bastard!"

"Get a grip on yourself, Black—"

"These lessons are over!"

"Sirius, why the hell didn't you wait for us?"

"You didn't say to wait—"

"Will you let her touch him, damn it!"

"What is that?"

"The Mind Healing draught—Sirius, let go!"

He was jolted, then dropped, someone caught him, and there was a scuffle. "Stop it!"

"Black, I'm warning you—"

"Let go of me, Remus!"

"Damn it, Sirius, that's enough!"

Closer by, Harry was aware of someone pressing a bottle to his lips, whispering something in his ear. Bloody hell, the noise was killing his head! He finally managed to open his mouth and let a rather tasteless liquid flow in, and swallowed.

Ah, that was better. A cool sensation crept into his forehead, and he was vaguely aware of someone massaging his temples. "A little more, Harry. Hang on." He swallowed, and the pain gradually receded to a tolerable level.

"Bloody...hell..."

"I imagine that did hurt a bit! How's it feel now?"

Harry let his eyes open a tad, wincing at the light. "Tonks?"

She nodded. "Feel all right? Know your own name?"

"Uh-huh," he grunted, trying to think over the ruckus in the background. "What's going on?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, wait a moment. QUIET!" Tonk screeched, causing Harry to clap his hands over his ears in protest.

But it worked, the other shouting voices in the room abruptly stopped.

Tonks sighed theatrically. "Much better. Harry?"

He gingerly uncovered his ears. "Warn me next time you do that."

"Sorry," she said, sounding unrepentant. "But with luck I won't have to again." She glared at the figures behind them, and Harry blinked.

Remus appeared to be holding Sirius back, who looked inches away from flying into a duel with Snape. Both men had their wands out and were snarling at each other.

"If you can't stand it, Black—"

"You bloody stay away from Harry, you—"

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, and staggered to his feet, wincing as his head protested. "It's all right! He warned me it would hurt!"

"Hurt!" Sirius wrenched away from Remus and pointed accusingly at Snape. "He could have bloody torn your brain open!"

"So could Voldemort!" Harry insisted. "I have to know what I'm up against—Sirius, I asked him to," he said as his godfather started to protest.

Remus quickly moved between Snape and Sirius, and Sirius glared furiously at him. "You're being unreasonable," Remus said.

Sirius growled at Snape, then snapped at Remus. "Fine. Since you apparently have everything under control, you don't need me." He stalked toward the door.

"Sirius, wait!" Harry started after him, but Tonks caught his arm.

"Slow down there, Harry, you'll faint."

"I agree, Potter, you should sit down."

"But I—"

"Harry, sit!" Remus and Tonks steered him to the table.

Harry did, massaging his temples, but kept glancing at the kitchen door. Remus avoided both his gaze and Tonks's, and she gave Harry a helpless shrug. Snape was inspecting the dregs of the Mind Healing Potion.

"I should duplicate this formula so we have a supply on hand."

Grateful to break the tension, Tonks rose and began listing the ingredients she knew. Harry tried to listen to them, or think about how he'd deal with Voldemort attacking that hard, but he couldn't concentrate.

To be continued...

Coming next weekend: Tensions come to a boiling point at Grimmauld Place as James Potter's two best friends find themselves at outright odds over his son. Our heroes finish their Easter week as the war continues to escalate, and tragedy rocks Hogwarts as the students return in Chapter Thirty-Seven: Holiday's End.

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