Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. He, and all of the characters mentioned in the book series of the same title, belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

Warning: Half-Blood Prince spoilers.

Summary: As the Dark Lord once again rises to power, Harry Potter finds himself facing situations only found in his nightmares. The path of darkness is followed by those who have nothing to lose, but has Harry really reached that point?

Does not feature Horcrux storyline!

Dark Wings

Chapter 5 – Frustrated Shock

His crimes… Those he'd been witness to haunted Harry's mind over the next month. He knew that he likely hadn't seen the worst of what Snape had done, nor the worst of what he was capable of, but what he had seen …Dumbledore's murder… had been horrible enough for many lifetimes.

For that night haunted his nightmares, and would probably always haunt his nightmares. It had been brought to the forefront of his mind by a combination of Levithan's lessons, and of his almost constant concentration on everything he felt that Snape had to repent for. This included his latest transgression – bewitching Hermione.

Harry wouldn't have been willing to let Snape off, even if Hermione had been quick to recover from the attack. As it was, Hermione still blamed herself for what she'd done while under the Imperious curse. She still thought that she should have been able to do something, to fight it off. She still thought that she should have realised it was Harry she was being forced to curse. And nothing that Harry or Ron had tried had been able to dissuade her of these notions. As a result, Hermione had become withdrawn and timid. The behaviour was entirely un-Hermione-like, and not only did it bother Harry; it scared him. The war had barely begun, and already it had lost a warrior. Not only that, Harry had already lost a friend to herself.

Ron had his hands full with trying to care for Hermione whenever she burst into fits of tears, which seemed to be very often. More than once, they'd had to carry her to Madam Pomfrey and force her to drink a large dose of a very strong calming draught. Often, not even that was enough to help her. It didn't look to Harry like Hermione was going to recover anytime soon, and this scared him as much as her obsession with her guilt.

Snape was going to pay.

McGonagall touched the sleeping Hermione's shoulder before turning away with a soft sigh. "I don't know, Potter," she said, tone more gentle that Harry could ever remember it being, and a soft sigh followed her short sentence. "The classes you took in fourth year – your defence lessons – should have been enough to let Miss Granger – Hermione – realise that none of this was her fault," she paused, "But because it's you, Potter…" she trailed off and Harry let his head fall into his hands. She hadn't needed to mention that. He knew that if Hermione had been forced to attack anyone else – save Ron, of course – she would have managed to get through this.

McGonagall's hand found Harry's should and rested on it, and he was aware of other movement in the previously silent and much deserted Hospital Wing. He shivered, and then found he was unable to stop, though he didn't believe he was cold. He was aware of the hand on his shoulder forcing him down, and he sat as a voice above him exclaimed, "Poppy! He's going into shock!"

He was cold now, despite the thick blanket that was laid across his shoulders and then wrapped tightly around him. Despite this, he was aware that he was shaking in a manor that he couldn't stop. Why couldn't he stop? He heard voices around him; unable to understand what they were saying, he began to raise a hand, only to have it held down. He felt himself being lifted, and then he was lying down with a soft pillow under his head and more thick blankets piled on top of him.

He was too far gone to try to respond to the voices that were clearly asking him questions, but not to try and push away the potion that was being held to his lips. He was aware – by the condensation and heat on his face – that the potion was smoking, and he sealed his lips against it. Whatever it was, he didn't want it. But the bearer of the potion wasn't giving him a choice in the matter.

A gentle but very firm hand pried his lips apart a fraction, and forced the smoking solution down his throat. He gagged, and eventually managed to swallow, but it left him coughing and with a burning sensation in his throat afterward. He did find that he was able to control himself better though, and that the involuntary shivering had come to a halt. He was able to look up and see that Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were standing over him, both with worried frowns creasing their features.

"Potter?" McGonagall's voice was gentle, but Harry looked away, embarrassed by his moment of weakness. A gentle finger slipped under his chin and mover his head upward so that he was looking up into McGonagall's face. However, he quickly moved his eyes to one side, and they found the sleeping Hermione in her bed.

"Her condition is not your fault, Potter," Madam Pomfrey stated sternly. "If you believe it is, you are just as bad as she is." He knew that. He knew that it was no one's fault but Snape's. What if he had caught Snape though? Then none of this would have happened, because Snape would have been in Azkaban. Or better, he would have been dead.

"Potter. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault." Madam Pomfrey said again. Harry nodded absently, a far away look in his eyes. Snape was going to pay.

Harry was admitted out of the Hospital Wing the next day, and left after having a short conversation with Hermione, in which he tried again to convince her that what had happened wasn't her fault. He'd left very frustrated, and was beginning to think that they needed to start coming at this from a different angle. Maybe he'd try asking her how she would feel if it had been him under the Imperious curse, and if it had been he who had attacked her. That could work.

He pondered this as he made his way to his duelling lesson. He wasn't sure why McGonagall had insisted on duelling lessons – it wasn't as if Death Eaters fought fair, and the Headmistress knew that – but she had. So he and Ron had duelling lessons three times a week, each time with a different professor. They were never told in advance who they'd be duelling against at the next lesson, supposedly to keep an element of surprise and to see if their pupils could adjust accordingly. Thus far, it hadn't been all that difficult.

When he got to the room, Ron was already there, wand flashing and curses flying as he duelled Professor Levithan. It seemed that the Professor had the upper hand, but then, it always seemed that way with Ron. He still didn't have much luck with non-verbal spell casting, and his shouting along with Professor Levithan's abilities in Legilimency was causing him to lose badly. Finally, he simply let a stream of red sparks out of his wand – the signal that he was giving up – and Levithan lowered her wand arm to hang limply by her side.

"Let's go, Potter. You're late, hurry up," and she raised her wand again, casting her first spell as soon as Harry had his wand out. Harry was – barely – able to cast a shield charm in time to have the leg-locker curse bounce harmlessly away, and he followed it with a quick jinx of his own. 'Impedimenta!' he thought loudly. The spell shot from his wand, but Professor Levithan blocked it with an odd flick of her wand.

"You're thinking too loud, Potter. Close your mind," she said, before another jet of light came at him. He dodged out of its way, not having enough time to conjure up another shield. He let half of his concentration go toward closing his mind against her, but the other half was needed just for defence. He couldn't multi-task enough to attack back, and after only a few minutes, Professor Levithan let her wand drop. She didn't look pleased.

"You're doing worse than Weasley, Potter," she snapped. "Keep your mind on the task at hand. If you can't shield your mind and attack at the same time, then don't. Practice closing your mind outside of this room. A Death Eater isn't going to give up if they see you aren't fully concentrating on the duel." Her silver-violet eyes were angry and narrowed, and she paced up and down the room a moment before raising her wand again.

"Try again, Potter."

Harry didn't allow himself to be distracted this time, and their duel went on far longer than the last had, finally ending with Professor Levithan sending out the red sparks. That didn't happen often, not with this particular Professor at least, and Harry was so surprised he let fire the last curse that had been on his tongue – it flew over Professor Levithan's shoulder and blew a hole in the chalkboard. He repaired it with a wave of his wand, and turned to look at Levithan.

"Better. Much better, Potter," she applauded. They were both breathing heavily, and Ron was standing back looking impressed, and probably somewhat jealous, but Harry wasn't looking too hard for that particular emotion. "Now. How about dinner?" Both Harry and Ron looked at the clock on the wall as she said this, and Harry was surprised to see that it was, indeed, time for their evening meal.

They made their way to the Great Hall together, only parting when Levithan went to the staff end of the solitary table, and Harry and Ron chose to sit at the opposite end. Ron began piling food on his plate almost immediately, but Harry, though hungry, found that his mind was focused on Hermione again. He'd been able to momentarily forget about it when he'd been duelling with Professor Levithan, only because he had to concentrate on the duel and couldn't dwell on anything else. But now, now his thoughts were free to wander, and wander they did. Right back to Hermione. And Snape.

He felt like raging. He felt like screaming and overturning something. He felt like cursing Snape until the slimy git was unrecognisable, and was very tempted to follow through with the last one, without care for the potential consequences. But he wouldn't. Firstly, because he had no idea where to find Snape, and even if he did, he was being closely watched and couldn't leave the castle. And there were a few other things he needed to get done first, things that required research.

He stood without eating anything and began to make his way toward the library, not stopping or even acknowledging Ron when he called after him. However, he was aware that someone had followed him out. He turned his head to look at Professor Levithan questioningly.

"You're doing well, Potter, but you're still no match for Him," she said, as if this was a conversation that they had already been having. Harry simply looked at her and sighed, but didn't respond. There was a long pause and then, "Have you thought about what you'll do when you come face-to-face with Him again?" she asked. "Have you thought about the preparations you'll have in place, in case it looks like you won't defeat him?"

Harry gave her a contemplative stare, which quickly morphed into confusion. "Preparations?" he asked. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"Back-ups, enchantments you'll put in place…" she frowned at him. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about it! I know you're Gryffindor, Potter, but no one should be that foolishly brave. Its overconfidence and, quite frankly, stupidity. You're seventeen, Potter. He has had far more training than you."

"I'll figure something out, when I figure it out… Thank you, Professor," Harry muttered, then broke away from her and ran the rest of the way to the library once she was out of sight. What had she meant? What kind of preparations? There were only so many things he could do. But he wasn't planning on losing the fight. He'd take Voldemort down, no matter what. Even if it meant sacrificing himself. It was necessary that Voldemort die for good, not just as a temporary solution.

Perhaps Professor Levithan had had a good point. But what kind of preparations had she meant? Enchantments to have in place in case it looked as if he couldn't defeat him? Like what? Some sort of power well that he could draw from? He'd never heard of anything like that. Maybe he could ask her what she had meant, or he could ask Hermione…

Maybe research would make Hermione feel more like herself. If she knew that he needed her for something, maybe she'd come out of her timid shell and try to help him. She knew the library far better than Harry did, and he knew that if he was to find anything he'd need her help. It could even be that she'd already know what he needed. Maybe some teacher had mentioned it in a class. It would be Hermione who would know something like that.

Sure that he was going to be able to help her this time, Harry turned and left the library, headed for the Hospital Wing, not bothering to go by the Great Hall to find Ron. He needed to talk to Hermione on his own, to see what she thought about what Professor Levithan had suggested. He was truly stumped.

Author's Corner

Yay! Another chapter done! And I don't really have anything to say other than that, except to apologise for the delay, as I always do.

Please review---

Completed: Feb 22/06

Uploaded: Feb 23/06