Disclaimer: I really own nothing in this story, except the plot, and Lilian!

A/N: OK, this chapter starts the last part of this fan fiction! I really hope that you'll like it! Well, I don't really have anything important to say, just that nobody answered at my request for a beta-reading work. Well, ok, but even if you know somebody that is interested can you please e-mail me? Thank you so much!

To Mleegirl42: Thank you so much again for beta reading!

Harry's Dream

Harry woke up one February morning with a bad headache, for him it wasn't difficult knowing why.

Ever since the second week in January that Snape kept telling him to avoid Ron, but he couldn't avoid his best friend.

Ron on the other hand was very annoying. He continued to ask Harry for advice about how to spell some difficult words from terrible curses and how to do some revolting potions.

The night before was no different.

"Harry do you reckon that if I go into Snape office I'll be able to find all I need for this potion?" he asked without looking away from the book.

Harry sighed, "I don't even know what kind of potion you are talking about. What is it called?"

Ron became very nervous "It doesn't matter," he muttered throwing the book under a pile of Chudley Cannons' hats.

Harry got up quickly and picked-up the book.

"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Ron trying to steal the book from Harry's hands.

"Let me see – 'How to Control Life and Death with 1001 Potions', where did you find this?"

"Diagon Alley," he answered trying to sustain Harry's eyes.

Harry raised his eyebrows "Diagon Alley?"

"Ok, ok. I think it was Knockturn Alley," he said torturing his fingernails.

"Uh, oh. Not really the same, is it?" asked Harry sharply.

"No," answered Ron miserably.

"Listen Ron, I don't think that using dark magic on Hermione is the right way to fix everything. And I don't think that she will let you use magic on her."

"How do you know?"

"If she wanted to use magic she could have done it by herself. The last time I saw her she was very good at doing magic things. I think even better than you," he added thoughtfully.

"I know that," Ron answered angrily, "But she doesn't mind dying. She is – I don't know, she looks like she is ready to die."

"Maybe she is," said Harry calmly.

Ron glared at him. "Why? Everybody seems ready to see her die."

"I'm not ready to see her die," Harry snapped back "I love her. But I don't know what to do to help her."

"Then, help me, I have a plan-"

"You have a plan? You want to use the Dark Arts to cure her," he said in a rather rude way.

"At least I know what to do," Ron added bitterly.

"Ron, you really shouldn't learn how to – what was it? 'Control life and death'," said Harry with a sigh, "Please, promise me that you won't do anything bad. Please."

"I won't do anything bad, Harry," Ron said with a small smile on his face, "I just want to help the girl that I have always loved so much."

"Yeah, I know, but that's not the right way to help her. Trust me, even if you manage to find something that can save her life; I'm sure she won't let you use it on her, and she surely doesn't want you to use Dark Arts. She loves you, too. I think that the best thing that you can do is try to tame your daughter and make sure that Hermione knows that you love each other."

Ron seemed he was going to say something, but when he opened his mouth he couldn't think at anything to counter Harry.

In fact, he was damn right.

They stayed in silence for a while, then Harry got up from his chair and walked past Ron, he opened the office's door and spoke to his friend, "I have a very bad headache, I think I'll go to bed a bit early," he said calmly.

Ron nodded, "Hem, Harry?" he called before he was completely out of sight.

Harry looked at him, "Yes?"

"Do you think that Madam Pince will let me put the book in the restricted section of the library?"

Harry smiled, "I think you can ask her."

"Yeah – and Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Thank you," said Ron blushing a little.

Harry smiled and left for his bedroom.

But that night he couldn't sleep properly for more than two hours: he had loads of nightmares about Hermione, Ron and Voldemort.

He dreamed that Hermione was dead and Ron had become a Death Eater, then dreamed that Voldemort wasn't dead, as everybody thought he was, but still alive and strong. He dreamed that his putrid breath was on his neck and he woke up all sweaty and with the same headache that he had the evening before.

Reluctantly he woke up and moved towards the bathroom; he took a shower and stared at his imagine in the mirror. His usually pale skin was slightly green, and he looked like he was ill.

He considered seriously going back to his bed, but he knew that he was the only DADA teacher and that there wasn't anybody else who could teach his class. Well, in his third year, when Lupin was ill, Snape taught for him, but he wasn't so ill as to let Snape teach in his class. Plus that morning he had planned a test.

So he dressed and went straight to the Great Hall.

'Maybe a good breakfast will make me feel better,' he thought hopefully.

Ron was already sitting in his usual chair and was staring at something; Harry followed his gaze and saw that the 'something' was sitting at the Gryffindor table, and more precisely, was Lilian.

"'Morning," said Harry when he sat down next to Ron and helped himself to bacon and eggs.

"Good morning, Harry. How are you this morning? No, wait, don't answer. Wait exactly five seconds, four, three, two, one."

When he said 'one' Lilian sat up and walked out of the Great Hall.

"How did you know?" asked Harry surprised.

"She goes to the library every day at the same hour before lessons. Anyway how do you feel today? Does your head hurt still?"

"Well, yes. But its ok, I think I'm just a bit stressed," answered Harry.

"Hmmm," was Ron's answer, "What's your first class this morning?

"Let me think, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years."

Ron sighed, "You lucky thing. I've got two hours with fifth year Slytherin and Gryffindor. It's a nightmare."

Harry gave a little laugh.

"Well mate, I'm sorry for you," he said with a big grin.

"Yeah, of course you are, because if they drive me crazy, you will be the first person that I'll go to for help. Well, I have to go now, see you at lunch?"

"Yeah, see you later," said Harry finishing his breakfast.

Ron walked out of the Great Hall, and Harry followed him with his eyes till he could no longer see him.

Then he stood up and made his way towards his class.

He opened the door with a spell and stepped inside. The classroom was very cold; it looked like Snape's classroom.

Harry decided to light a fire in the fireplace with a little of magic, in a couple of seconds a cheery fire was crackling and the classroom was getting warm.

After ten minutes all the students were in class; Lilian, Alex and Josh were in the first seats, right in front of Harry, evidently Lilian's influence on the two was nothing but a good thing.

"Good morning class," Harry greeted the first years.

"Good morning Professor Potter," answered the class.

"Today there is a test about Cornish Pixies. Have you studied?"

"Yes, Professor Potter."

"Very well then, separate your desks and don't copy," he said giving everybody a sheet.

Then he went back behind his desk and sat in his chair looking at all the faces.

Lilian had a smile on hers and was writing very quickly.

Alex and Josh were slightly preoccupied and were trying to look above Lilian's shoulder to get a glimpse at what she was writing.

'That's why they sat in front and next to Lilian,' he thought.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Randall. Please don't cheat?"

Alex and Josh flushed and nodded, going back to their tests.

After giving another look at the class, he relaxed and leaned against the chair to get more comfortable, since the class was filled with a very nice warmth and all the students were concentrated on their tests.

'Maybe if I just rest my eyes for a while my head will hurt less,' he thought.

So slowly, very slowly, Harry closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He was in a long corridor.

It looked almost like a dungeon.

The walls were covered with water, in some way it resembled the Chamber of Secrets, but of course he couldn't be in the Chamber of Secrets.

He took a few steps and arrived in a corner.

It was no longer a corridor, now it looked more like a maze.

"I hope you won't disappoint me anymore, Bellatrix."

Harry froze. He knew that voice.

"Because that was the last time you will disappoint me," Voldemort said with his voice that was almost a hiss.

"I beg your pardon, Master, if I disappointed you in the past. I swear that I won't do it again," Bellatrix answered.

"Very well, Find the spy and take him here. I, again, no longer have a solid body, but I'll use the spy's body like I used Quirrel's."

"B-but Master I don't think he will agree to you using his body, like Quirrel did," stammered Bellatrix.

Harry couldn't see them, but he heard their voices, and they were damn close. He knew that they were on the other side of the corner but didn't want to go and check if he was right.

'Please, let it be a dream, just a dream,' he begged in his mind.

"Of course he won't, you fool. You will put him under the Imperio course."

"Yes, Master," answered Bellatrix.

"He must be on his way back home; I reckon that you'll find him very close to Dumbledore. But I don't think he is already at Hogwarts; he was badly injured and he lost his wand when he left here. He left a week ago, but I'm sure that you will reach him in three days."

"Yes, Master."

"Go now and don't come back if you don't have the spy with you," hissed Voldemort.

The scene began to vanish.

'I have to know if it is a dream or something else,' Harry thought panicking.

He walked towards the place were he heard the voices, arrived in a little room, and came face to face with Bellatrix.

She couldn't see him. Her face was covered with the same robe that all the Death Eaters wore during Voldemort's years of power.

In a corner of the room there was an old red armchair. Harry could see nothing but the back of it. He decided to come closer.

He walked quietly to the armchair and went around it.

He couldn't see exactly what Voldemort looked like, because a terrible pain filled his brain and he started to scream.

He just saw white steam that looked like a face, a face more horrible than any creature he had ever seen, before he found himself on the cold floor of his class with a whirl of voices around him; then he passed out.

When he woke up that evening, he was in the hospital wing.

There were several people around his bed, but he couldn't see who they were since he wasn't wearing his glasses.

He stretched out his hand searching for his glasses on the bedside table.

He found them, but they weren't on the table, someone had handed them to him.

"Wow, mate. You should have seen all that first years screaming when they reached my class for help. You really worried them," said Ron who was the one who handed him his eyeglasses.

He focused the people around him. There was Ron, Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Snape and Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk to you," Harry said to Dumbledore.

"I already know what you have to tell me, Harry," answered Dumbledore.

"R-really?" asked Harry.

"Does your scar hurt?"

Harry nodded.

"Did you have one of your dreams about Voldemort, that aren't just dreams?"

"But, Professor Dumbledore, you-know-who is dead," Ron said weakly.

"Professor Weasley, Voldemort is as dead as I'm fifteen years old. Harry?"

Harry nodded again.

"Harry I need to know exactly what you saw in your dream," Dumbledore said seriously.

Harry nodded, he was no longer a boy, and he knew that it was very important that Dumbledore knew everything quickly.

"I was in a dungeon, at least I think it was a dungeon because there was water on the walls like in the Chamber of the Secrets, so if nothing else I was underground.

"I heard Voldemort speaking, he wasn't alone, Bellatrix Lestrange was also there. He was angry with her because she disappointed him the last time; I reckon they were speaking about that night 13 years ago, because I haven't heard of Bellatrix since that night. Voldemort wanted her to-" he stopped, he almost forgot about it. The spy. Snape.

"Professor Snape," he said turning to Snape, "He wants you – Voldemort I mean – he said to Bellatrix that she had to bring him the spy, and-" he stopped again, something didn't fit with the story.

"B-but, there's something wrong, you must be badly injured and you shouldn't be at Hogwarts; you should be somewhere not far from where Voldemort is and-"

"Harry calm down," said Dumbledore calmly, "There's nothing wrong with what you saw. Professor Snape is no longer the one who's spying for me."

"No?" Harry and Ron asked together.

"No," answered Dumbledore.

"Who then?" asked Harry.

"There's a moment for everything and this is not the right place or moment for me to tell you this. Plus, the less people who know, the better."

"But, Professor we are Aurors, we are no longer kids-" said Ron in a very childish way.

"Ron, Harry, trust me. When the right moment arrives you'll know who he is."

Harry and Ron nodded, not entirely convinced.

"There's something else that I need to know, Harry?"

Harry thought for a while then spoke again, "Yes, Voldemort doesn't have a solid body and wants to use the spy's body like he used Quirrel's. And the spy left Voldemort a week ago, but Bellatrix can catch him in three days. That's all I think."

"Very well, Harry. Thank you. Now get some rest," he said sweetly at Harry, "Poppy, can you give him something to make him sleep without dreams?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded and disappeared behind a door.

Dumbledore turned to Snape and McGonagall, "Severus, Minerva can you come to my office? I need to talk to you."

Snape and McGonagall nodded and followed him out of the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey arrived with a bottle of 'Sleep well' potion.

"Take it when you want to sleep, Mr. Potter. And promise me that you will take it."

"I solemnly swear that I'll take it," Harry said in a not so reassuring way.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and left.

Ron got up from the chair next to Harry's bed and stretched his arm, then sat down in the bed next to Harry's and touched it all over.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry quizzically.

"I'm testing to see if this bed is soft enough for me," he said touching the pillow.

"What?" asked Harry confused "You aren't going to sleep here, are you?"

"Of course I am," said Ron in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I don't need you to stay here. I'm not eleven," Harry said trying not to sound annoyed.

"Hey, I'm not staying here because I think that you will need me tonight to go to the bathroom," answered Ron jumping onto his bed and lying on his back.

"Then why?" asked Harry raising his eyebrows.

"Because I remember that when we were in the Hospital Wing we were usually covered with Chocolate Frogs and other sweets from Honeydukes, so I'm hoping that tomorrow morning we will have a couple huge piles of sweets at the bottom of our beds," he said with a big grin.

"Oh yeah, and who would send them?"

"Mum?" asked Ron going under the sheets.

"And how would your mum know – Ron!" Harry said exasperatedly.

"What? I just owled her," Ron said in an innocently kind of voice.

"Already? And what did you write?"

"I wrote: 'Dear Mum and Ginny, Harry is not feeling well, send some sweets please. I think he will feel better. Love, Ron. P.S. I think Chocolate Frogs would help him.' What do you think?"

"Hmmm," Harry answered looking at him, "Great job, Ron."

"Thanks. So sweets from mum and sweets from your admirers, we will eat till death!" said Ron with a grin.

Harry nodded.

"Well, good night, Harry. Take your potion."

"Ok, mum," answered Harry jokingly, while pretending to take his potion.

He wanted to stay awake and think of all the things that he saw that afternoon; and above all, if Snape was no longer the spy, who was?