Chapter 3

The silence following the blast did not last long, and as the students moved away from the train, spells began to fly from all directions. Time became a blur to Harry, as he ducked and dodged with the best of them, bringing down many of his enemy. Stupefy red, Avada-Kedavra green, Reducto white, Protego blue, all blended into a maelstrom of colour and light, a sight almost beautiful but for its danger.

At one time, Harry sent a last-minute Petrificus to a figure approaching Neville from behind. Minutes later,Hermione's hastily-raised physical block was the only thing standing between Harry and Crucio. Harry watched fellow students Ernie MacMillan and Terry Boot fall, even as he incapacitated Nott and Avery. At one time, he spied Bellatrix Lestrange, but a near-miss from Malfoy Senior's Avada made him lose her in the madness.

Time seemed at once to have stopped while moving at a rapid rate, so Harry could no longer tell how long he had been fighting. At some stage, he noticed that one of the teachers had fallen, he couldn't tell which. All he knew was the heat of the battle.

Eventually, the telltale crack announced the arrival of Dumbledore and the Order, followed by numerous Aurors. The death eaters beat a hasty retreat, and the remaining students wearily returned to the train to regroup and revive.

As the forest returned to silence, the only remnants of the battle lying in the scorch marks on the trees and the bodies marking the floor, Dumbledore approached Harry as he tended a gash on his arm, unnoticed during the rush of battle. "Harry," he began in annoyance, "Why did you lead them into this?"

Shocked and angered, Harry released the bandage and stood to face his headmaster, their height now almost equal. "Why did I what, Dumbledore? Why did I defend my fellow students? Why did I bring down several of the enemy for questioning? Why did I organise a plan that left us with only eight casualties? What?"

"Why did you endanger yourself, Harry! You are not to risk yourself in skirmishes and minor battles, we need you!"

"Minor? Minor?Most of the school could have died today, and you call this minor? Does human life really mean that little to you?"

"Of course not, Harry. It's just that I don't want you to be hurt." Dumbledore reached out a hand as if to pat Harry's arm, but Harry drew away.

"Don't pretend you care about me, Dumbledore. Not now, not after making me act the coward, after expecting me to act your pawn. This is my war, Dumbledore. And you will not prevent me from fighting it."

Angry now, Dumbledore retorted, "You're a student Harry, and my job is to protect you."

Harry scoffed. "What, like you protected Ernie and Susan and Terry Boot? Like you protect Neville and Ron as they fight your skirmishes? Like you protected Sirius, trapping him in Grimmauld Place until he would do anything to see the sun? Is that what you call protecting? Because it's not what I would."

"Harry…"

Harry breathed deeply, clearing his mind in order to preserve his composure. Now was not the time to blow up at the Head of the Order. "Headmaster… I want to help. You can see how much I did today, anyone could tell you. Why won't you let me participate?"

"It's for your safety, Harry. Now, come along and join the other students, we've made portkeys to take you all to Hogwarts." Sighing in reluctant compliance, Harry allowed himself to be led back to the group of children he had saved, children he seemed cursed to be thought of as part of.

As Harry left on one of the first portkeys, Draco Malfoy watched after him in awe.

Harry did not attend the banquet that evening, despite it being in his honour, Dumbledore's futile attempt at reconciliation with his weapon. He was still too furious with Dumbledore's treatment of the situation to be comfortable in his presence, let alone smile like the Gryffindor Golden Boy he was supposed to be.

Instead, Harry was making his way through the dungeons, towards his private room. He was eager to see his angel again, so eager that his swift stalk nearly morphed into a run, were it not for his sense of dignity. Mentally anticipating the coming conversation, hoping to have pleased his angel with his fighting skills – somehow, his angel always seemed to know what happened, and Harry had long since ceased questioning his seeming omniscience – Harry almost didn't hear the voice calling from behind him.

Slowly turning, impatience evident in every centimetre of his tense body, he raised an eyebrow at the blond figure calmly leaning against the dungeon wall. "Malfoy," he said tersely, nodding at his fellow student. Though Malfoy's defection to the light had halted the hostility between them, lack of contact had left them as neither friends nor enemies, leaving Harry confused as to what the Slytherin wanted.

Draco remained silent, waiting for Harry to ask why he was there. Harry, for his part, refused to give in to the other boy's wishes, despite his nagging desire to leave. Eventually, the battle of wills began to grate on his nerves, and with a long-suffering sigh, he gave in. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy smirked, and replied, "Who says I want something, Potter? Maybe I'm just interested in what our dear saviour is doing down here in the dank Slytherin dungeons."

"Who says it's your business, Malfoy?" Harry replied in annoyance. How had he let himself become careless enough to be seen? In annoyance, he turned to leave, but a hand grabbed his arm just above the gash, causing him to wince in pain. "What?" he snapped out, his irritation growing by the minute.

"Look…" Malfoy began hesitantly, "I'm sorry."

Harry turned around and waited, an inquiring look on his face. He had never before heard Malfoy say sorry and mean it, and he was filled with curiosity as to the other boy's intentions.

"It's not my place to keep you from what you're doing, but… well, we've barely talked since sixth year, and… I wanted to know if we can try again?" Draco's voice sounded hesitant; as if he was almost afraid he would be refused.

"Pardon?" Harry asked, shock clearly evident on his face.

"Potter, I admire your skill in battle today, you're definitely a power to be reckoned with. And I can see how the way the Gryffindors treat you is getting on your nerves, you barely seem to have any friends anymore. I haven't really had anyone to talk to since I defected, and no one else seems to notice how you've changed, except for me. So I was wondering if, maybe, you might like to talk some time?"

"So, in other words, you think I'm another lonely Slytherin like you, and you want to be friends?" Harry's only visible sign of the shock he felt was the widening of his eyes, but it took him some time to consider what Malfoy had said. On the one hand, he had his angel as a confidant, and Malfoy had never really shown himself to be a friendly person. But on the other hand, he thought it would be nice to have someone his age, someone who was experiencing this war with him, someone who he could laugh with and go to the pub rather than just training and the occasional conversation. And there was something in Draco's eyes that seemed sincere, as if he really wanted to be Harry's friend. Not the Golden Boy-Who-Lived, but simple Harry Potter. And that meant the world.

His mind made up, he looked up to the other boy, emerald green eyes meeting slate grey. Extending a hand, he smiled and said, "The name's Harry – just Harry. It's nice to meet you."

Warmly returning Harry's smile, Draco clasped the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. "The pleasure's all mine, Harry. Call me Draco."

The two boys grinned at each other, before Harry reluctantly broke the handshake. "Well, Draco," he said, placing particular emphasis on the other boy's name, "I'm glad that we got this resolved, and I'm looking forward to having someone interesting to talk with again, but I really do have to go. Save me a seat in potions tomorrow, and we can talk some more."

"Sure, Harry. Saving you from Granger is the least I can do." The two boys laughed; now that Draco no longer intended it as an insult, Harry could appreciate how annoying his friend was to the rest of the school.

Smiling warmly for the first time this term, Harry turned to walk down the corridor, a new lift in his step. Just before he turned the corner, he heard Draco call after him. "It was a brilliant battle today! You're an excellent wizard, Harry!"

Grinning at the first honest compliment all day, Harry shouted back, "Thanks Draco!" before rounding the corner and making his way back to the room, whistling slightly. With the successful battle and a new friendship, as well as finally escaping the hated Dursleys, it was turning out to be a great day. All he needed now was to spend time with his Angel.

As Harry turned the knob on the plain wooden door, he heard the sound of a voice echoing through the stone room. Bravi, bravi, bravissimi…

Smiling slightly, Harry called out, "Is that you, Angel?"

You did well, my child, the voice replied as he moved to stand before the silver mirror, staring at his reflection, still dirty and worn from the battle earlier.

"Thankyou, Angel," he replied happily, ecstatic to have received his angel's approval. These days, he wanted little more.

Come, child, tell me all. Where did you learn that amazing shield spell?

"I was practicing during the holidays, Angel," he replied hesitantly. "I wanted to make you proud of me. Do you approve? Are you happy?" His usually strong emerald eyes seemed almost pleading, and even his angel was not moved.

Chuckling, the voice replied, Do not fret, my child. You have made me very proud.

All Harry could do was smile.

But who was that pale boy with you before, child? You do not speak of me, do you?

The angel seemed almost worried, afraid he would be found out. Puzzled, Harry replied, "No, he's just a friend of mine, he wanted to congratulate me," he replied, somewhat surprised at how easily the word 'friend' came to me. Muttering under his breath, he added, "Not like anyone else did."

The voice came softly now, almost like a caress. Do not fret, child, they simply do not understand you. You are above them, and it scares them, so they try to place you below them.

"But I am below them, Angel! They're heroes, they fight, I just stay here, doing nothing." Harry wrapped his arms around himself, lost in the accusatory words of his classmates and friends.

No, Harry, you are beyond their comprehension. You are powerful, you are strong, you are smart… they just have yet to see it.

"Really?" Harry asked.

Really, the voice replied.

"You know," Harry began thoughtfully, "It means more when you tell me thanwhen Draco did."

Insolent boy…

"Pardon?" Harry asked, confused. Why was he insolent? What had he said?

Not you, the Malfoy boy. He wants to share in your triumph, gain your trust, and then use you to further his own ends.

"No, Angel, how can you say that? Draco's a good guy, he's on the side of light! And he really did want to congratulate me."

Why, Harry? Was not one of the first things he said that you were a power to be reckoned with?

"Well… yes…"

I do not want to hurt you, Harry, but it is highly likely he wants you for your power, for your prestige. Malfoys do not understand love.

"But he's not like his father, Angel! He's a good guy… he likes me… he likes Harry!"

Malfoys are very talented actors, Harry. His father was not so different to him, once… the voice trailed off, as if becoming lost in memories. But what sort of memories does an angel have?

"Why don't you like Malfoys, Angel?" Harry enquired, curious.

That is a story for another time, my child. But trust me, you would be better to never talk to the Malfoy boy again. I don't want you to get hurt… the voice continued, almost lovingly.

"Very well, Angel," Harry acquiesced. He knew that his Angel only ever wanted what was best for him, and ever since he lost Sirius, there seemed to be very few who shared that sentiment.

Come, Harry, enough of the Malfoy boy. It is time for our lesson, yes?

"Yes, Angel." Harry began to pull his spellbooks out of his bag, including some rare ones he had only found in this very room. Amazing, how the books he needed always seemed to be there, waiting for him… yet another of his Angel's mysterious skills, he figured.

"Well," he began, "I was looking at Pirazi's mirror spell, but I can never seem to control the angle of reflection-"

Harry… the voice began, interrupting his train of thought.

"What is it, Angel? I thought you wanted us to study?"

Yes, Harry…

Confused, Harry asked, "Then why are you stopping me?"

Harry, you have been an excellent student, but there is little else I can teach you without being physically present.

"Oh," Harry said, sadly. He had begun to believe his angel was a ghost, it was the only explanation for his absence from the map. If there was nothing else to teach him, he may as well leave…

"But I don't want to leave you, Angel!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to be tutored by anyone but you! You're my only friend…"

No, Harry, that's not what I meant… the voice hastily contradicted, as if the idea of losing Harry upset him.

"Then what?" Harry asked, his voice shaky from sadness.

You are a good student, a loyal student, and I feel as if I know you as well as I know myself. It is time to return the favour, my child.

"Pardon?"

Look at your face in the mirror, Harry. I am there, inside…

Almost hypnotically, Harry placed his books on the ground, and moved so he was facing the mirror, about a foot away. As he stared at the mirror, he could almost make out the shape of a face, masked in black…

Turning, he looked for the source of the reflection. No one. Returning his attention to the mirror, he reached out his hand, as if to touch the phantom face. As his fingers brushed against what he thought was glass, they began to sink as if in some sort of liquid.

Confused, Harry removed his fingers, before replacing them. Come, Harry, the voice murmured and, taking a deep breath, Harry pressed forward and through the glassy substance, leaving no trace behind.

Thirty minutes later, after having his fill of dinner, Draco began to wonder what had happened to Harry. Sure, he had said he had something to do, but surely the Gryffindor wouldn't miss dinner for it. He hadn't done it before… maybe he was in trouble!

Worried now, Draco silently left the table, before retracing his steps to the place where he and the other boy met. Following the footprints through the dusty floors of a long-abandoned wing, Draco came upon a simple wooden door, which the steps approached but did not leave.

Knocking gently, Draco asked, "Harry, are you in there?"

No response.

"Harry?" he tried again, and when his friend failed once more to respond, he shrugged and opened the door. Maybe Harry had fallen asleep… or maybe there was another door…

But when Draco entered the room, all he saw were four walls, a pile of books next to a bag he recognised all too well, and a shimmering silver mirror. Harry Potter had vanished.

Review Responses:

e-scape-goat: Thanks for the long review ) I checked out a couple of your stories – gotta love the severitus challenges ;)

To answer your questions, as you can see, Harry also thought that Snape was a ghost. But the Marauder's map only contains rooms that the marauders found, and they never found the passageways beyond the dungeon (including just behind the mirror) where Severus lives. Besides, they're Gryffindors – why would they want to explore the dungeons?

McGonagal knows Snape because she was the one teacher who tried to stop the Marauders, and she's his contact with the world above. He needs some way to send his demands to Dumbledore and such, after all.

As for Ron, well… Severus will teach him a lesson, we'll just say that. And the teacher's didn't lock Harry in the dungeons or anything, he's a normal student, he's just not allowed to go on raids. That upsets Harry – dunno why, I'd hate having to go on raids shrugs. But you know Harry and his saving-people thing.

Guava-juice: Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

Strega: Actually, Ron's a Piangi of sorts, though all the characters are strange mixes (Dumbledore's both Carlotta and the managers, for example… hehehe…). Draco is our Raoul, and he's going to be better than the real Raoul, so he can be a legitimate love interest for our dear Harry… Raoul in the musical and book is just such a FOP!

Angel of the Carpathians: Now, why would I tell you that? No one will know until the very last chapter D