A/N: I know these chapters have been getting longer and longer, but I think this one might be the last marathon of a chapter for a bit… I hadn't realized just how long they were getting and this one may have gotten away from me a tad and accidentally ended up almost 2-4x longer than the rest... But who knows- I guess I can make no promises either way, but I just didn't want to disappoint people who felt I had set a certain precedent. Anyway- hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): violence, descriptions of illness and injuries/torture, some mentions/implications of child abuse/neglect

Chapter 10 - Thin Ice

Not a woman to go back on her word, Madam Pomfrey kept Harry in bed all weekend. On Sunday, she finally declared the infection gone and was able to heal the scratch. Much to Harry's consternation, it left a long scar running up his leg. Oh well, he sighed to himself, what's one more? At least it was on the same leg as the scar from the acromantula bite and he still had one unmarred limb left. He should really inform the paparazzi that his left was definitely his good side.

Once the wound was properly healed, Pomfrey fit him with a large brace to keep his knee in place as it healed before fully canceling the last of the body bind. Harry reveled in being able to wiggle his toes once again and smiled cheerily as he drew his good leg up to his chest and stretched it.

"Now, tonight you will be allowed up for short walks- around the wing and to the bathroom and such- to get used to the crutches. But I want you to tell me if anything hurts, okay? If all goes well, I will let you return to classes tomorrow with the understanding that you will sit out anything that requires you to move around too much or to be on your feet for more than a couple of minutes." She fixed him with another one of her austere looks. "It will do you well to remember that the more closely you follow my instructions, the faster you will heal."

Harry nodded quickly. He was just excited that he might be free again so soon.

Checking the brace one more time to make sure it was properly fitted and secured, she helped Harry to stand and adjusted the crutches for him.

"Have you ever used crutches before?" She asked as they were shrinking to match his height.

"I'm not sure," he said. Harry had just barely caught himself before saying 'yes'. He had broken his ankle once when he was a kid. Well, more accurately, Dudley and his massive bodyweight had broken his ankle once when he was a kid and he had been stuck using them for months. It was awful. Turns out it is very hard to run away when you cannot run.

As Harry took his first few tentative 'steps', Madam Pomfrey observed him closely. He didn't seem to be struggling too much with the clunky new mode of transit. "Remember," she warned him, "absolutely no weight on that leg."

The brace stood out, black and ugly, against his light hospital pajamas. Of course, she could have spelled the brace invisible- it was a courtesy she would afford most students- but with Harry, she wanted him- and everyone around him- to have the visual reminder that he was not to be moving around too much. Merlin knew the boy seemed to be a danger to himself on a good day, so she was extremely anxious at the thought of releasing him to his own devices before he was entirely healed. But at the same time, two weeks was a very long time to be laid up. It was a lot of class to miss. And, perhaps most importantly, she was confident that if she kept the boy in the hospital wing that long while he was conscious, she would be forced to resign in protest before he was released. It was not that Harry wasn't a nice boy- in fact, he was very thoughtful and kind- but he was just one of the worst patients she had ever had. He couldn't admit that anything was wrong and you had to literally stick him to the bed to keep him from moving. Or put him in a body bind, apparently. He was sixteen after all, so she should be able to trust him with some simple instructions. But that thought did little to soothe her worries.

On Monday morning, Harry was officially sprung. He made his way very slowly to the Great Hall for breakfast- not out of an abundance of caution, but purely because it was far and there were a lot of stairs between there and the hospital wing and crutches sucked. Harry found himself once again cursing the sadistic bastard who designed this godforsaken castle and put the infirmary on the fourth fucking floor. It was just cruel.

Eventually, Harry arrived at his destination.

"Harry!" James called, hopping up from where he had been seated at the Gryffindor table. He jogged over to Harry and said, "Mate, you should've told us you were getting released. We would've come and met you." His hands were nervously hovering like he wanted to help, but didn't quite know how that would actually be helpful.

"I'm fine, James. And I didn't actually know until last night- but I am quite capable of walking to breakfast all on my own, thank you." They were close enough now that the other 6th years heard Harry's last sentence too.

"I know. But just because you can doesn't mean you should have to," James insisted.

Harry didn't really have a response to that, so instead he worked on settling himself down onto the bench. Thankfully, everyone had scooted over to leave him a big enough open space so that he could swing his leg over without kicking Milli, who had been sitting next to James before he got up.

"Welcome back," Lily greeted him.

"Thanks," he grunted as he twisted around to tuck his crutches underneath the bench so that no one would trip on them.

"So, how long are you stuck with those," Milli asked, nodding towards where Harry had just stowed the crutches, as James reclaimed his former spot.

"Up to two weeks, depending on how long it actually takes to heal," Harry lamented as he began to fill his plate. He ate quickly as he had arrived pretty late and knew he would need to leave soon in order to not be late to Transfiguration. Thankfully, the classroom was on the ground floor, but it was still kind of far away on the other side of the courtyard and Harry really didn't want to risk it. Looking up from his plate, Harry saw that a lot of people were staring down the table at their group, not even trying to be sly about it. "Um- why are so many people looking at us?"

"Unfortunately," Sirius sighed from across the table, "the rumor that decided to stick was the one that I murdered you."

"What?!" Harry actually dropped his fork, whipping his head around to stare back at the people staring at him. Now, Harry had been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of nasty and ludicrous rumors courtesy of the Hogwarts mill, but that one just might take the cake. There was just so much wrong and illogical with it- not the least of which was that he was not dead. "You can't be serious."

James and Peter both let out matching groans. "Oh, of course I am! We share a dorm- mine's the bed right across from yours. Sirius Black- surely you remember me!"

"Oh, shut up. And don't call me Shirley." Lily was the only one to laugh. Harry was pretty sure that movie hadn't come out yet, but hey- the word play still held up. "Do people really believe that?" Harry asked more soberly.

Lily was the one to answer. "To some extent- unfortunately, yes. The fact that you disappeared before most people were awake and those few that did see you told everyone that you were leviated out on a stretcher, and where not moving-"

"I was in a body bind!" Harry interjected angrily.

"That may be, but I'm just telling you what people heard," she said calmly. "And, well, a lot of people saw the blood in your dormitory. The door was left open when you all left for the hospital wing. McGonagall forbade anyone from entering, but she didn't say that they couldn't look. Basically all of that along with the fact that none of the 6th year boys were seen at all on Saturday really allowed the rumors to run wild. And, well, I don't really blame you for hiding out on Sunday when everyone started attacking you with questions and accusations at breakfast," she told Sirius sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry guys," Harry said, turning to face the other boys. "Sirius- I'll set them straight. Geez- this is all such a mess," Harry let his head thunk down onto the table.

"Harry- it's okay. And none of this is your fault. People are just generally on edge nowadays and it doesn't take much to whip them into a frenzy. It'll blow over soon enough," Sirius said in an uncharacteristically rational way.

Harry surreptitiously checked the time with his wand that had been thankfully returned to him, as promised, on Saturday night. It was already quarter till. Pushing his half eaten plate away, Harry sighed before asking, "James, could you budge up again for me?"

"Sure, but- where are you going?" He asked as he climbed back off the bench.

"Class. It just takes ages to walk anywhere on these things," he glared accusingly at the crutches, "and I don't wanna risk being late. I'll see you guys there."

As Harry maneuvered his leg back out, James stooped down and grabbed his crutches for him. When he was free, Harry looked back up to realize that all of the 6th years had stopped eating and were now standing up too.

"You guys are still eating- really, it's okay. You can catch up," Harry insisted, but they all acted like they hadn't heard him at all.

James went to grab Harry's bag and he snapped, "I can carry my own bag."

"It's not that big a deal to let someone else carry it-"

"I don't need anyone to take it-"

"Harry, please let me carry your bag." It was the first thing Remus had said to him since their brief encounter in the hospital wing. Since Harry had seen that horrified look come over his face at the sight of Harry's leg.

Harry could see the desperation in his eyes. His need to do something- anything- to make whatever up to Harry. It was a small, symbolic gesture, but Harry could tell Remus needed it, so he swallowed his pride and gave him a nod. If Remus needed this act of repentance to feel a little better about the situation, then Harry would gladly give it to him.

James passed the bag over the table to Remus who shouldered it with a smile. James handed Harry his crutches and Harry hauled himself to his feet. The whole 6th year set out together towards Transfiguration, everyone matching Harry's slow pace. Even with having left when they did, the group barely made it to class on time. McGonagall gave Harry one of her rare, kind smiles as he lowered himself into a desk before she began.

Thankfully, Mondays was one of their days with no double lessons, so it was mostly theory lectures and demonstrations. That day's Transfiguration lecture turned out to be the very thing Harry had not been able to do during the first benchmark exam McGonagall had given him back in the hospital wing- turning a shoe into stone. Well, at least that made Harry feel better that he hadn't actually been behind.

It had only come up a few times where professors would expect the class to know something that Harry just hadn't learned yet. He had made a right arse of himself during Herbology one day when Professor Kerner had asked him a question and he could do nothing but stare blankly back at the man before mumbling that he had never heard of what he was talking about before. Not that Kerner needed more of a reason to dislike Harry. He had carried on in his general attitude towards his newest student since that first day. Harry had absolutely no clue why the man disliked him so much, seemingly on principle. At least Slughorn still tried to teach him, despite Harry being a walking disaster in Potions class. More often than he would care to admit, Harry finds himself leaning over towards Lily and asking her to re-explain whatever the heck Slughorn had just said. But she always does with a patience and grace that Hermione- for all her knowledge- often lacked.

After Transfiguration, they had a free period. Harry really didn't want to bother with the stairs to return to Gryffindor tower or go to the library, so he opted to just sit in the currently empty Great Hall until lunch. As before, the others chose to keep him company, though a few made the trip back to the tower to grab their books for their afternoon classes before rejoining them. They all spread out around the near end of the table, taking advantage of the rare abundance of space. Harry- who was actually for once all caught up on his work thanks to his weekend stay in purgatory- just put his head down and took a nap right there on the table. His nightmares were still as bad as ever, so it was rare that he was able to properly sleep through the night these days. Thankfully, he hadn't had any bad ones while he was in the infirmary because he did not want to have to explain that to Madam Pomfrey. He had also had a kind of perma-headache for the last week or so that he just couldn't seem to shake. The lack of good sleep was probably not helping, but it was really starting to wear on him. It sat just at the front of his head and felt as if something was slowly pressing down on his brain.

Harry startled awake when a plate literally appeared under his face. He jumped so hard he nearly toppled backwards off of the bench and only didn't because he just managed to catch the end of his fingertips on the edge of the table in a vice-like grip. Breathing hard for a second as he righted himself, Harry glared when he realized that Sirius was sitting across the table laughing at him.

"That was not funny," he ground out.

"Oh, mate, yeah it was," Sirius was wiping tears out of his eyes.

"Well, I'll smack you in the face with a plate tomorrow morning and see how well you like it as a wake up call, huh?" Sirius just grinned at him- ooh, he was tempting fate.

James scooted down the bench to join them as other students began trickling in. "Why are we smacking Padfoot?" He inclined his head curiously.

"Because he is an arse," Harry said firmly. James just nodded as if that were the most valid reason in the world.

Charms, unfortunately, was on the third floor. It took them nearly twenty minutes to get there so it was a good thing they had left lunch a half hour early just to be safe. They had left Peter behind in the Great Hall to finish his food as he had Divination next instead of Charms with the rest of them. Harry had never been so thankful he was no longer in that stupid class. If he was, Trelawney may have finally gotten her wish of his ultimate demise when he passed out trying to climb the stairs of the North Tower and came crashing all the way down. Or fell off of her stupid rickety latter to that trapdoor entrance of her classroom. Although, Trelawney probably wasn't the Divination teacher right now. Ah, well, Harry still didn't think it was worth the risk.

Charms passed much like Transfiguration had with Professor Flitwick lecturing about Bubble-Head charms. That was one Harry already knew. He had learned it soon after the second task of the Triwizard tournament because it would have been such a more elegant- and less uncomfortable- solution than gillyweed had been. If only he had actually been a 7th year at the time, then it might have been a valid expectation that he knew such a charm. But hey- he didn't drown, so who was he to complain?

Harry did make them late to Potions, which he felt rather bad about. The passing period was only fifteen minutes, but it took him well over twenty to make it all the way down to the dongeun classroom. He had tried to convince everyone to go on ahead, but like every other time that day he had tried such a thing, they adamantly refused.

"Peter should already be there- he'll be able to explain why we are late if Slughorn doesn't already know," James told Harry, trying to assuage his guilt.

When they finally arrived, Slughorn had not bothered to start his lecture yet as literally half of his class had been missing. They all filed in and took their seats around a very disgruntled looking Peter who had very much not appreciated being left alone in a room full of increasingly angry Slytherins for the past ten minutes.

"While I admire your show of solidarity, Mr. Doe is the only one with permission to be late to this class in the future until he is recovered," Slughorn said in an unamused voice, though he didn't take off any points for their stunt. Harry just ducked his head as he dug through his bag for his Potions book before settling in for the now slightly hurried lecture.

After class, they decided to head to the courtyard to catch some of the last bits of sun before the harsh Scottish winter truly took hold. Harry could only stand to be out there for just over an hour before he had to admit that he was freezing. Even sheltered from the wind like they were, his light cloak and robes were just no match for the frigid air. Calling uncle, he told the others that he was going to head back into the Great Hall and wait for dinner and once again they all moved to follow.

Sirius offered Harry a hand to help him up from his spot on the grass. As Harry reluctantly accepted the gesture, Sirius almost dropped him, "Merlin! Your hands are freezing Bambi!"

"Sorry," Harry said as he tried to balance on his crutches and breathe into his hands at the same time- a surprisingly difficult task. Once he could feel his hands enough to properly grip the handles of his crutches, Harry set off towards the Great Hall again.

Thankfully, Harry didn't fall asleep this time as he sat at the table. Milli, Sirius, James, and he had an interesting conversation about quidditch that managed to properly distract him and hold his attention. The Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match was that upcoming weekend, so they were talking about the opportunity to study the other teams' tactics before they have to go against them themselves later in the year. Since the other three had been on the team for years, they were filling Harry in on what they already knew about the other teams.

"Ravenclaw, as you might expect, tend to be a little more crafty with their plays. Their style is all about precision and misdirection and outsmarting the other team. They have a lot of trick plays, so that's something to keep an eye out for," Milli was saying.

"Yeah," James said, "but Slytherin is more about brute force. While the Ravenclaws will figure out the best and most efficient way to get around an obstacle, the Slytherins will just go right through it. You really have to be careful and on your guard when you're playing them. They've got more fouls on their record than the rest of the teams combined. Times two."

Sirius added, "And they have a new captain this year too- Dolohov, I think his name is. Real creepy bloke. I can't imagine with him at the lead that their tactics are going to get any softer. Probably quite the opposite actually."

There was another name that Harry had not wanted to come across on this journey. The man that would one day soon murder Mrs. Wesley's brothers. Harry clearly remembered the man's twisted face not only from his mugshot in the papers, but the idiot had taken his mask off in the Department of Mysteries. He had been one of the Death Eaters to specifically chase after Harry. He had hurt Hermione. He had tried to rip the prophecy right out of Harry's hands and nearly killed Sirius before-

"Harry- you okay, mate?" It was Sirius. Harry blinked, taking a moment to recenter himself in this present. "You went kind of pale. We didn't mean to scare you about the Slytherins. Seekers are usually kept pretty out of the fray," he tried to make Harry feel better.

"No, it's not that. I'm not afraid of a little rough quidditch. It's just- I have a headache," he finished lamely, but rubbed at his temples all the same. He really needed to keep his shit together.

"Well, just let us know if you want to stop by Pomfrey- I'm sure she'd be happy to help," Sirius offered cautiously, knowing similar suggestions had not been well received by Harry in the past.

"Yeah, sure," was all Harry said. Thankfully food and more students arrived soon bringing with them a welcome distraction. They ate and chatted and laughed until everyone had had their fill. Then they began the arduous journey back up to Gryffindor tower- the entrance to which was located on the seventh fucking floor. Harry had almost lost it on one of the staircases as it had decided to move while they were climbing it. If it hadn't been for Remus, who was a few steps below him, and his quick instincts catching him before he could really fall, Harry would have ended up splattered on the cobles several stories below. One of his crutches had slipped and fallen all the way down with an ominous, echoing clatter. They all took a moment to breathe and steady themselves from the adrenaline while the stairs settled into their new place. Someone had summoned his crutch for him and Harry took it back with a slightly shaky hand.

"I'm assuming you wouldn't let me carry you, just so that I'd feel better?" Sirius half joked.

Harry just continued his way up the stairs, shaking his head. He knew that despite the words having the cadence of a joke, if he gave even the slightest indication that he may not protest such a thing, Sirius would have him off his feet in a matter of seconds. No thank you.

Fortunately, they made the rest of the journey without incident. Climbing through the portrait hole proved to be surprisingly difficult with the threshold coming almost halfway up Harry's leg, but eventually he made it through. Harry basically collapsed onto the nearest couch. That had royally sucked. Everyone settled in around him, pulling out homework, or playing a game, or chatting. But Harry tuned it all out, curling up as much as he could, and drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep.

Someone stirred him with a hand on his shoulder some indeterminate amount of time later. "Come on Bambi- time to go up to the dorm." It was Sirius.

"No," he said petulantly. "Leave me here." It came out as more of a whine than a command.

"Nice try, but you don't wanna sleep on these awful couches. You may hate me now, but you'll thank me in the morning." When Harry still made no moves to get up, Sirius added, "If you really don't want to move, I could always carry you up." His tone was light, but the threat heard loud and clear as Harry shot up. He reluctantly stood and lugged himself up one more flight of stairs to their dormitory.

Harry was very thankful that Madam Pomfrey had taught him a spell to switch out his pants and trousers for clean ones so that he could change without having to mess with his leg or the brace. When he reentered the dorm after brushing his teeth, he found the rest of the guys all gathered around in a rather conspicuous cluster. Harry slowly made his way over to his bed to sit down, eyeing them suspiciously the whole way.

"Um, Harry- are you awake enough to talk for a minute?" James asked a bit hesitantly.

"Yeah…" Harry replied slowly as he leaned his crutches up against the wall by his bed. "What's up?"

They all dragged their desk chairs over and it felt kind of like he was a kindergarten teacher who had just announced storytime or something as they all sat down and looked at him sort of expectantly.

"We were hoping you could explain to us why you were in the forest the other night?" James said with the air of someone throwing caution to the wind and just diving in the deep end.

Oh shit. With everything that had happened that night and since, Harry himself had kind of forgotten about what had brought him out there in the first place. And hadn't he kind of already told Sirius some of it? Not that he could come up with a good, reasonable lie now, but there was no point in wasting the energy if he had already committed the loony truth. Fuck it. What could it hurt at this point?

"This is going to sound a little crazy- but then again, I am talking to a dog, a rat, a deer, and a werewolf at a wizarding school for children with stairs that try and kill you, so how much crazier could it get, right?" They all exchanged slightly worried glances at that, so Harry added, just for their benefit, "I really don't think I was raised by wizards because magic is fucking crazy. Everything about the wizarding world is insane and backwards and batty. So I don't know- maybe it will all make sense to you lot." They looked a little surprised by that, but no one dared to interrupt him, all wanting to hear what he had to say. "Right, so, I was up here in the dorm getting ready for bed when I looked out the window and saw this- thing- standing out on the grounds. I honestly thought it was my patronus trying to summon me-"

"Wait- you can make a patronus?" Sirius blurted out.

"Yes, but that is not the point-" Harry tried to keep going with his story.

"What form does it take?" Sirius pressed.

Harry's eyes flickered over to James before he admitted, "A deer."

"Really?" James asked, sounding a little astonished.

"Yeah. It uh- It actually looks a lot like you, Prongs," he said.

"Can we see?" Sirius begged.

Realizing they were not just going to get past this and let him continue, Harry fished out his wand and muttered, "Expecto patronum." The silvery-blue Prongs erupted from his wand, knocking Sirius back and out of his chair as he cantered past, then around the dormitory, before slowing down and walking back over to Harry where he bowed his head and let his master pet him.

"C-Can we touch him?" Sirius asked with a note of awe in his voice.

"Sure, if he seems open to it," Harry said.

They all tentatively reached a hand out to stoke the shimmery form, half shocked when their hands didn't just pass right through it like one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

"It does look a lot like you, James."

"Yeah. I'm guessing this is why you like deer so much?" James turned to ask Harry who just nodded his head. In a roundabout way, it was true. Harry let the spell fade and the other boys all slowly returned to their seats, Sirius righting his first.

"Anyways," Harry said emphatically, "The thing- whatever it was that I could see out in the grounds- I could feel that it wanted me to come down and meet it. So I did. I wasn't really thinking when I left, I just, knew I needed to figure out what it wanted. It was honestly a miracle that I remembered to put shoes on and grabbed my cloak. But when I got out there, I could see that it wasn't actually P- my patronus. It was this big, glowing reindeer. And when I got close to it, it turned around and started walking into the forest, so I followed it. And it led me to this clearing where it laid down beneath one of the trees. And it just kind of sat there and blinked at me. Until I heard Moony coming up behind me and it just- vanished."

Remus' face got very tight with his last sentence, but he restrained himself from saying anything just yet.

"Why on earth did you follow it into the Forbidden Forest? Whatever it was- that thing was probably trying to kill you!" Sirius yelped.

"I thought it might have had something to do with how I got here," he said honestly. "I mean, I did just kind of turn up in the middle of the forest with no explanation for how or from where. I'm honestly surprised that no one at this school seemed to take issue with that- or at least felt the need to launch some kind of formal investigation. At the very least, it seems like a bit of a security flaw if a sixteen-year-old can accidentally stumble into a magical school." They could hear Harry mutter something that sounded a lot like 'barmy old coot' but weren't quite sure.

"I guess that's fair," James said, leaning back. "But please, in the future Harry, do try not to get led away by glowing forest creatures of any sort. Or, at least come get one of us first?"

"Fat lot of good it did me," Harry huffed. "Ruined your night and unless I fell off of Father Christmas' sleigh as he was making the rounds, I don't know what a reindeer has to do with any of this mess." The others chuckled at that. "None of you have heard of magic spirit reindeer, right?" Harry asked with the faintest glimmer of hope in his voice. They all shook their heads. "Right. It just couldn't be that easy," Harry said as he flopped back in bed, throwing an arm over his face. "Any other questions or can I go to sleep now?" Came Harry's muffled voice.

"Go to sleep, Bambi," Sirius chuckled. "Thanks for telling us."

Harry just tossed his glasses onto his desk and started wrestling his covers out from under his legs as the faint scraping sounds of desk chairs returning to their proper homes rang through the dorm. Once they were free, Harry dragged his covers up as far as they would come and curled up again as much as he could, spelled his hangings closed and silenced, and quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, Harry was up around 5am. It was definitely much earlier than he would have liked, but it could have been far worse, so he would happily take it. Knowing by now that there was no point in trying to get back to sleep, Harry sat up and stretched before pulling his hangings open and fumbling for his glasses. As he slipped them on and looked around the dark room, he was surprised to find that he wasn't the only one up like he normally was at this hour. Remus was sat at his desk, head propped up on his arm as he stared out the window.

As Harry shuffled, dragging his useless leg back in order to sit up properly, Remus started and looked over at him. His amber eyes seemed to glow in the dim morning light as he stared, a little unnervingly, at Harry.

"'Morning," Harry whispered, knowing Remus' stellar hearing would pick it up, even from across the room.

"Good morning," he replied, a little louder so that Harry would hear it. "What are you doing up?"

After a moment's hesitation, Harry told him softly, "Nightmare."

"I'm sorry," Remus said, but it was not in the 'oh, that sucks' kind of way, no, it was like he truly owed Harry an apology for his interrupted sleep.

"It wasn't about that," Harry corrected quickly, once he realized what the other boy had meant. "What are you doing up?"

"Just- couldn't sleep," he said, turning away. Even in the shadowy room, Harry could see just how true that statement must have been. Remus looked like he hasn't slept a wink all night- or maybe for the past few nights…

"Remus, could you come over here?" Harry asked. Slowly, Remus complied, raising cautiously from his chair and making his way over to Harry's bed. "Thanks. I just- wanted to talk to you and whispering across the dormitory seemed a little ridiculous…" he said with a small smile. Harry scooted back a little further on the bed before rotating so that his back rested against the wall and his feet stuck out in front of him. "Wanna sit?" Harry asked, casually motioning towards the now empty space next to him.

Very hesitantly and with an anxious expression plastered all over his face, Remus climbed onto the far end of the bed, opting to sit with his back to the footboard with his knees pulled close to his chest- as far away from Harry as he could possibly be while still complying with his request.

"I think we need to talk about it," Harry finally said, breaking the tense silence. Remus didn't respond- he just kept looking at Harry with those big, terrified eyes. "You can't let it tear you up like this. I don't blame you, the other guys don't blame you, so why are you blaming yourself?"

"Harry- I could have killed you." Remus seemed to almost choke on the words- his voice coming out gravelly.

"I know," Harry said evenly. "But a lot of other things could've killed me too. The stairs would've killed me yesterday if it hadn't been for you. Should I be afraid of stairs for the rest of my life?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"I am dangerous. The stairs were just some object with shitty timing."

"You really don't think that those stairs are sentient, at least on some level? Waiting around for the perfect moment to fuck up our days?" Harry quirked a small smile. "And even then, I can guarantee that the stairs don't feel guilty about what almost happened. They were just doing what they were designed to do, and I can't be mad at them for that. It's not their fault, but that is why we learn to work around them. At some point, you start to learn their patterns, where the trick steps are, and avoid them. I won't go wandering into the woods on full moons anymore because now I know the pattern. The same way I learned not to get between James and his breakfast and you lot should know to be careful if you try to wake me up when I'm sleeping. It's all just quirks and patterns and nature. We try and fix what we can and work around the rest. Unfortunately, you were dealt a pretty shitty hand when it comes to things that can't be fixed, but that doesn't mean that we can't work around it just fine. I just- I want you to understand that it is okay to be like the stairs. You don't need to feel bad or guilty or make amends for doing something part of you was designed to do. The other night, you just showed me more of your pattern and now we can all better help guard against that bit now too. It just, kills me to see you like this. You need to sleep, and smile, and…" Harry trailed off, desperately searching for something more to say, to help Remus understand.

"Be like the stairs," Remus said with the ghost of a smile.

"Yeah, something like that."

After a long beat, Remus whispered, "Thank you."

"For what? Yammering on about the stairs?" Harry let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

"No. For not hating me. For not turning me- us- in. Even with everything that happened. Most people would not have done what you did. So, thank you." Remus maintained steady eye contact while he spoke these words.

There was a peaceful moment that hung in the air before Harry said quietly, "I'm sorry for taking away your secret."

Remus gave him a subtle, searching look, as if he were trying to solve a particularly complex equation. "That's okay. Some things are better out in the open anyway, I guess."

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips. "Well hey- if you guys don't have a problem with Parselmouths, then I don't have a problem with werewolves and illegal animagi. This is a very inclusive dorm you've got here and I really appreciate that. Best home I can remember."

Remus snorted, "Thanks. What a compliment." He just didn't realize what a true and meaningful statement that that was for Harry.

Both boys had managed to fall back asleep after their discussion fell into a companionable silence, but they were startled awake by a loud, "Awwwe!"

Sirius was standing directly in front of Harry's bed with an insufferably touched expression on his face. He turned to call over his shoulder, "See James- this is precisely why I said we needed a camera to keep around the dorm!" The sight before him was almost too much. Remus had fallen asleep sitting up in Harry's bed while Harry had listed over and was now half curled up with his head resting on Remus. Pyrrhus had fluttered down to join the snuggles and was settled atop Harry's head, half tucked behind Remus' hand that was resting there as well.

Harry jerked up at Sirius' rude awakening, sending Pyrrhus maddly flapping around his head and into Remus' face before he managed to escape the canopy of the four poster. Remus had wide eyes and an alarmed looking expression while his groggy brain struggled to process where he was and what had just happened. Harry appeared to be equally out of it- his hair was even messier than usual due to the little owl having made it into a temporary nest and without his glasses on his eyes looked bigger than ever as he turned his head this way and that trying to take in the blurry scene and figure out what was going on.

Sirius threw a hand up in front of his face. "Ah! Bambi- put those away!"

"What?" Harry croaked.

"Those damn doe eyes! I see why you need to wear those ugly glasses all the time. You're like some kind of Basilisk- with one unshielded look you can do a man in with those things."

Harry chucked his pillow at Sirius, wishing he'd had something heavier within arms reach. "Shut up." He dragged himself over to the edge of his bed so that he could grab his glasses off of his desk where he had tossed them the night before. Sliding them onto his face, Harry said with false indignance, "James, you know we have basically the same glasses- are you really just going to let Sirius get away with calling your glasses ugly?"

"Ahh, but mine accentuate my regal features. It is not the clothes that make the man, young Harry. And you could put anything on a face as handsome as mine and I would just elevate it to my level," he finished arrogantly with a furish.

Rolling his eyes, Harry scoffs, "He says that like we don't have basically the same face too." Remus chuckled beside him. "Oi- how about instead of standing there staring you make yourself useful and hand me the crutches?" Harry nods at Sirius who soon handed them over so that Harry can pull himself up. "Thanks," he added more genuinely.

No one asked what Remus was doing in Harry's bed, sensing the fragile peace that had settled around the wolf and understanding enough not to go poking at it. This was probably some of the first sleep he had gotten in days. So when Remus slid out of bed with an easy smile, everyone just went about their morning routines as usual.

Unfortunately, Harry really needed a shower. While he was sure Madam Pomfrey's cleaning charms were proficient and technically got the job done, they just didn't compare to a proper shower with real running water. He had already woken up late and knew that even washing was going to take an extra long time with his limited mobility. Pulling out a clean set of clothes with a sigh, he told the others, "You guys should head down without me. I need to shower but I don't want you to miss breakfast. I'll just meet you down at the greenhouses before class."

"That's okay Harry, we can wait up," James said.

"James, I know how much you love breakfast- for you that would be cruel and unusual punishment. Really, it's fine. I'll survive," Harry assured them.

"How about you lot head down and I'll hang back. That way you can nick us some food and we'll meet you in Herbology?" Remus compromised. This seemed to appease everyone as the others were reluctant to leave Harry alone, particularly after he had almost broken his neck on the blasted stairs yesterday and Harry didn't want to be a burden, but he knew Remus was still trying to make something up to him, despite their little chat, so he relented.

Harry and Remus only made it down just in the nick of time before class began. That morning Harry learned that while doing anything on crutches sucked, going down stairs was its own unique circle of hell. You would think after everything he'd been through that Harry wouldn't scare easily, particularly over something so seemingly trivial, but there was just something about the precarious shifting of his body weight as he stood on the edge of a stair, leaning down to the next one that made his heart pound uncomfortably with every step. And there were a lot of steps between Gryffindor tower and the greenhouses. But Remus remained as patient as a saint, somehow managing to match Harry's snail-like pace, remaining right by his side the whole way keeping up an endless stream of mindless, but helpfully distracting chatter.

As the greenhouse doors opened to admit them, Harry hastily shoved the piece of toast Sirius had offered him between his teeth so that he could enter along with the rest of the students. When he reached their usual table, Harry realized that there were no seats in this class- it was going to be a long three hours.

Just as Harry adjusted himself in order to free up a hand to grab the toast in his mouth, Professor Kerner's harsh voice barked, "Mr. Doe! There is absolutely no eating in my class. If it is not in your stomach then it goes in the bin."

"But sir-" James began.

"Now, Mr. Doe!" Kerner snarled over James.

With heat rising in his cheeks, Harry hobbled over to the bin up front and spit the toast out into it. It was mortifyingly embarrassing. As he went back to the table, there were many sympathetic looks thrown his way.

"Right, now with basic housekeeping out of the way, we will begin today by discussing Sneezewort…"

By the end of the lesson, Harry felt completely and utterly useless. He had barely been a smidgen of help during the practical portion of the lesson, mostly forced to just stand there and watch the others harvest the sneezewort petals and roots. The only thing he could really help with, since he didn't have free use of his hands if he wished to remain standing, was figuring out which roots could be harvested without compromising the overall health of the plant, so at least he made a small contribution, though it felt woefully inadequate. His whole body ached from standing so long in one place. The injured knee hurt from the awkward position he was forced to hold himself in and from gravity relentlessly pulling against it. His other leg hurt from bearing most of his weight and his arms were beginning to shake from the constant effort of holding himself up. Remus had even gone up to ask Kerner if Harry could have a stool to sit on, but the man brushed him off with some nonsense about it being some kind of 'safety hazard' to have one in the greenhouse. This is all to say that despite not really having done anything all class, Harry was knackered when the bell finally rang for lunch.

During lunch, Harry honestly considered taking another nap on the table. What he really wanted was to go lay in bed until Care of Magical Creatures, but he knew that was just an impossible fantasy as there was no way in hell that he was going all the way to Gryffindor tower just then. While finally getting to sit down had helped relieve the worst of his aches, Harry still wouldn't say that he felt 'great' by a long shot.

Some of his discomfort must have been showing on his face because Lily leaned forward slightly and asked, "Is your leg hurting, Harry?"

"A little," he admitted. "Standing in Herbology just sucked."

"I can't believe how unfair Kerner was to you today. I've seen people eat during his classes before and he never once cared," Sirius said, peeved.

"Not to mention that the biggest safety hazard in those greenhouses are the damned plants. And I would think risking someone tripping over a stool would be better than waiting for one of your students to collapse," Lily spat. "You lot, budge down," she commanded the people sitting to Harry's right. They complied without hesitation or question to the fierce girl's orders. "There you go Harry, put your leg up- it might help." While slightly embarrassed, he also did as he was told. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see James smiling fondly as Lily took control. The lovebug really had bit him hard.

Putting his elbow on the table and leaning his head into his propped up hand, Harry took a moment to just rest.

"Aren't you hungry mate? You ate literally a single bite of toast for breakfast," Sirius asked him.

In truth, Harry wasn't very hungry right then. His body had a very systematic way of prioritizing things in order to keep him alive and functioning and hunger was just not something that made the cut for 'top of the list'. Breathing was number one. If you stop breathing, you will die very quickly. Thinking was number two because if you can't think straight you can't help yourself or address any potential issues with the lower ranked items. Then it was bleeding because that will kill you soon enough. Pain fell somewhere in the middle of the list while hunger was pretty damn close to the end. The body could go a long time without food if it needed to. And the way his body worked, it focused on the highest ranking problems, ignoring the rest. And at that moment Harry's highest ranking problems were pain and fatigue. If his leg weren't injured then yeah, he probably would've been hungry, but that signal was muted at the moment.

But Harry also knew that he probably should eat and he didn't want to invite the stares and questions that not eating was sure to encourage. So he let out a small, "Yeah," and reached for a sandwich from the nearest plate. Harry didn't even move his head from where it was propped up as he mechanically ate. The others gave him slightly wary looks before falling back into their own conversations and leaving him be.

Harry wasn't sure if he had just zoned out or actually fallen asleep, but after finishing his sandwich, the next thing he knew Remus was gently shaking his shoulder and he sat bolt upright with a gasp.

"Sorry," Remus apologized softly, "but you should probably start heading down to class."

Nodding his head as he gathered his wits, Harry saw that Lily, James, Sirius, and Peter were rising as well. Sliding around on the bench to get in a position so that he could stand, Harry noted thankfully that the rest he'd gotten over lunch had done his body some good. He was easily able to pull himself to his feet without too much pain and his knee was no longer throbbing in the same nagging way as it had been before. Irritation flashed through him when he noticed that Sirius had already snatched up his bookbag, but Harry knew that it was just not worth the fight at this point.

Their small group made its way down the sloping lawns towards where Barlow was already waiting for them in the clearing between Hagrid's hut and the edge of the forest. As they drew closer, Harry saw that beside her sat a large cage. It nearly came up to her hip and stretched out almost twice as far lengthwise. When they reached the gathering students, Harry finally got a good look at what was inside of the cage. It appeared to be a very large, very pissed off goose. It was glaring daggers at anyone who dared to look at it. Its eyes looked as though they were made of quicksilver and stood out almost like a void among the jet black feathers that covered the creature's entire head and neck. The rest of its body was a sort of gunmetal gray. The major giveaways that this was no common goose- beyond its enormous size and odd eyes- were its feet and beak. Instead of paddle-like, webbed feet, the bird had razor-sharp talons that looked to be approaching almost ten centimeters in length and a much longer, pointier, and deadlier-looking beak. Overall, Harry decided that it looked like a Canadian murder goose.

When the group of Gryffindors arrived, Barlow made a casual flick of her wand and a stool appeared next to Harry. With a grateful look at his professor, he took a seat. Harry was honestly not sure if he would have lasted standing all class like he had in Herbology. Not only was he already a little tired from that ordeal, but now that they were outside in the late November chill rather than in the warm greenhouses, he was pretty sure his strength would have given out sooner rather than later. Professor Barlow was the best.

"Alright class, we will be beginning our new unit on dark and/or dangerous creatures today. It will be our longest unit of the year and will last well into next term. I like to save it for the winter months since the majority of creatures we will be discussing are too large, dangerous, rare, or illegal to bring out for a practical lesson, so it is the perfect topic for the cold winter when it is impractical to have class outside most days. As I'm sure you've all guessed, we will be starting with this creature here." She reached out and patted the cage lightly, causing the bird to let out a shrill sort of bleating noise and to turn its vicious stare on the professor. "Can anyone tell me what this is?" A handful of hands went into the air and Barlow called on a Ravenclaw girl, "Ms. Wroth?"

"That's a Stymphalian bird," she stated confidently.

"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw. This is a Stymphalian bird- also known as a Stymphalian goose- is most commonly known, even by muggles, from its appearance in the sixth labor of Heracles. Does anyone know their natural habitat?" A few more hands were raised and she called on Shelby, "Ms. Higgans?"

"They are swamp dwellers, right?" She half said, half asked.

"That is correct! Five points to Hufflepuff. They tend to be found in the tree canopy of swamplands, though sightings have been recorded in woodlands near other bodies of water as well. This one in particular," Barlow said, indicating the bird beside her, "was removed from a tree she had taken up residence in on a muggle golf course near a pond." Many of the students looked a little confused at this- most likely purebloods who weren't sure what a 'golf course' was. But Harry had to stifle his laugh at the image of this terrifying bird swooping down on his uncle Vernon while he was hitting the links for some important business meeting, sending the stuffy old men scattering in terror, waving thier clubs around in the air to try and fend it off.

"Now, Stymphalian geese are birds of prey as well as scavengers and are highly food motivated. Even though it is believed that they prefer their kills fresh, they are unlikely to give up an easy meal if they find something already dead." As she spoke, she produced some kind of carcass from lord-knows-where. It was maybe the size of a fox, but Harry couldn't really tell what it was from where he was sitting, nor did he really want to examine it much closer. He was more than happy to sit in his ignorance.

At the sight of the carcass, the bird went a little nuts, flapping its large, heavy wings and stabbing its beak through the holes of the cage in an attempt to get at it. Barlow made sure to keep it just out of reach of the mad goose.

"What is the defining characteristic of Stymphalian geese? Mr. Mulciber?"

The hulking boy's eyes seemed to glitter as he admired the savage bird. "They are actually made of metal," he said without sparing a glance at the professor.

"In a sense. Three points to Slytherin. More accurately, their beaks, talons, eyes, and feathers all have a natural metal coating. If you were to pluck one, it would look just like a regular goose- though I do not recommend eating it. Their meat is not poisonous, but they are rather gamey," Barlow said, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "This metal coating serves as both a protective and offensive feature. Almost nothing can penetrate it, making projectiles and blades as well as claws, teeth, beaks, and talons virtually useless in defending oneself against a Stymphalian goose. Even their eyes- a common weak spot on most creatures- are protected. In addition, their feathers are actually sharp, with an almost razor-like edge all the way around, turning their wings into a weapon along with their talons and beaks. In the wild, it is best to give these animals a wide berth. They are known to be very territorial of their hunting grounds." She paused here to tear off a piece of meat and toss it to the bird. The goose caught it midair and immediately swallowed it whole before returning to its attack on the bars standing between it and the rest of its meal.

"To capture them, as this one was, wizards use a specialized net made of the same material coating the bird's feathers- commonly harvested from those naturally shed and collected from the ground. This coating is also a valuable potions ingredient and a highly sought after precious metal used for commercial goods. Weapons are the most common use as, once the edge is honed, it essentially never dulls and the metal is stronger than most any other material known to wizardkind. However, the metal is also used ornamentally in jewelry and other objects as a display of power and wealth as it is so strong, rare, and difficult to obtain. This cage actually has such a coating on it so that the goose cannot claw, slice, or bite its way through." To demonstrate, she tore off another small bit of meat and placed it on the ground in front of the cage. The class watched as the bird used its wing like an ax, trying to chop through the bars and clear the way to the food. When that didn't work, it scratched its talons against them before giving up and returning to its previous attempts to cram its beak through the small gaps in the cage. After a minute, she kicked the scrap a little closer and the bird snapped it up.

"Professor- doesn't that, um, hurt the bird?" a Hufflepuff girl asked hesitantly. She looked rather upset after watching the display.

"No dear, the Stymphalian goose was designed to withstand almost anything. In a moment, I will have you come up to take a closer look and you will be able to see that no damage was done. She does not have a feather out of place. Stymphalian geese are known for not only surviving crocodile bites, but for actually considering them as prey rather than a predator. Now, all of this leads me to an important question- how can you defend yourself against a Stymphalian goose?" Barlow looked at the class expectantly, but they only returned her with uncertain looks.

"Do they melt?" Harry asked. They were metal after all…

"A good thought," she replied. "And technically, the answer is yes. Though, the temperature required to actually melt the metal coating is so high that the bird would be long dead by time that actually happened. But that does highlight one of their vulnerabilities- Stymphalian geese are particularly sensitive to temperature. Because metal is a natural conductor, they are not able to thermoregulate very well. Despite being warm blooded, they engage in many behaviors more commonly exhibited by reptiles in order to control their body temperature, such as sun bathing. This is also why they tend to live near bodies of water. When they get too hot, they just take a dip in order to cool down and let the water evaporate off of their feathers to take away some of the excess heat. This is something very important to keep in mind when caring for a Stymphalian goose or relocating one. Any other ideas?"

She was met with silence, so she continued on, "Well, the key to working with them is food. A well fed goose is a happy goose. As you can see, this one has not eaten yet and is rather testy as a result." The goose bleated, as if in agreement. "Now, it is important to remember that they are protective of their meals, so it would be highly unwise to approach one while they are eating unless you want to be dismembered. After they are satiated, they tend to enter a more docile state which is when you would want to approach. The aforementioned net made of the same material that coats the bird is the best tool for restraining the birds, but with enough rapport building, some wizards are able to directly handle them as well. For medical procedures or any extended contact though, it is best to knock out the bird for everyone's safety. This is done by getting close enough to either spell a potion into the goose or using a more manual method like a tranquilizer dart. For the latter technique, you must actually push the feathers aside in order to access their skin, but you will want to be sure you are wearing quality, dragonhide gloves before handing one. Recall that each feather has razor-like edges. For the same reason, you always want to handle them moving your hand down the bird and with the grain of their fathers or else they will tear your hands to shreds even through gloves," she warned.

"Now, I want you to come up and get a better look at her. Look closely at her feathers and how they are constructed- they are wonderfully unique!" She doted. "Two at a time please."

So the group of students started milling around, getting into some semblance of a line. Harry just assumed he would go last and decided to wait until the others were done before getting up. Mulciber was at the front of the line, eager to get a look closer at the deadly bird. Duff, the only other Slytherin in the class, was next to him, though the smaller boy didn't look nearly as excited at the prospect of getting anywhere near the Stymphalian goose. Nevertheless, he dutifully followed Mulciber up to take a look when Barlow waved them forward. Up close, the thing was even more terrifying. With every movement, each feather glistened dangerously as the light caught on the lethal edges. Its eyes had no discernible iris or pupil, just an expanse of silver, so you couldn't even tell which direction it was looking. Duff shivered and took a tiny step back from the cage as Mulciber leaned in even closer with greedy eyes.

After a few minutes Barlow told them to move on and called the next pair over. Reluctantly, Mulciber shuffled away, dragging his feet while Duff bid a hastier retreat. He kept his eyes on the goose as he moved away, as if afraid it was somehow going to follow him. Then his body connected with something solid and he fell to the ground with a thud, letting out a small "Oof."

His collapse attracted most of the class' attention and Professor Barlow looked over at him in concern. "Are you okay, Mr. Duff?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, looking around in confusion. What had he run into? He was in the middle of an empty field. "I just, must've tripped?" But he didn't sound very convinced by his own words. And that didn't really make sense since the boy had landed on his back, not his front as should've if he'd tripped.

"Uh- Professor-" Harry said, a little hesitantly, "I think you may have accidentally attracted a thestral."

"A thestral?" She asked with a confused expression.

"Yeah, you know- uh, big black skeletal horse things that really like dead meat?" Harry tried to explain. Surely a Care of Magical Creatures teacher had heard of thestrals before? They weren't that uncommon.

"Oh, no, Harry. I know very well what a thestral is. I just didn't know we had any here at Hogwarts," she clarified.

Harry blushed slightly in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to imply his professor was stupid or anything. "Oh. Well, there is a herd of them that lives in the forest."

"And how would you know that?" She raised an eyebrow critically.

Shit. Scrambling for an excuse he blurted, "I saw them that first day when I was in there."

"You can see them?" But this time, it was Lily's kind voice asking him the question.

Looking around, Harry realized that he was the only one who seemed aware of the large horse-like creature standing over Duff. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, "Yes." Harry could tell that Duff was starting to panic a little, not being able to see what he had run into and now hearing that it was some death-creature, he was looking around frantically as if he could will himself into being able to see the thestral. At the same time, he appeared to be frozen in place. He looked very tense, like he wanted to bolt, but couldn't decide where it was safe to run to. "They're not dangerous, you know." This Harry directed over towards Duff. "They just got a bad rap. If you scoot back a little you can stand up and walk away. It won't hurt you or follow you or anything. It just wants the food," Harry jerked his head towards the carcass in Barlow's hands.

Duff still looked very wary, but eventually, he followed Harry's directions. Once he was on his feet, he scampered back to rejoin the larger group at the front of the cage. Everyone's eyes were shifting between where they assumed the thestral to be and Harry. Harry just sighed. He had once again managed to make a spectacle of himself in front of his entire Care of Magical Creatures class- this really might be a record, even for him.

"If you offer it some food, it might just leave," Harry said with a shrug. Barlow hesitated for a second before pulling off a limb and tentatively holding it out to her left towards where the thestral had been earlier. Harry watched as it slowly approached the teacher and proffered bit of food. It leaned down and sniffed before grabbing the meat with its teeth. But just as the thestral accepted the food, the Stymphalian goose started freaking out. There was loud metal-on-metal scraping and clanging as it thrashed about in the cage, wings beating against the walls as it went berserk. Note to self Stymphalian geese are very protective of their food, even before it is really theirs. The thestral got spooked and reared up, flapping its wings wildly.

"Professor- back away!" Harry yelled and thank Merlin she listened because the next moment the thestral came crashing down on the cage with its front hooves and its right wing lashed out to the side where it would have struck Barlow and sent her careening into the pissed off bird's cage if she had still been standing there. Not sure what else to do and knowing that something needed to be done before the thestral broke the cage and they had two violent animals running amok in their class, Harry let out a loud, sharp whistle. He'd seen someone do that with a horse on the telly and he just prayed that it worked with thestrals too. Thankfully it seemed to get the job done and both creatures' heads snapped towards the sound. The bird pinned Harry with its piercing gaze, tilting its head quizzically as if it was struggling to compute that something had dared to interrupt it.

The thestral thumped back down onto the ground also staring intently at Harry- though its expression was much less threatening than the bird's. It looked more intrigued. Harry assumed that it was generally not used to humans if Barlow didn't even know that there was a herd of thestrals in the forest. And even if it had run into the odd one every now and then, most people couldn't even see them and paid them no mind. But now, here there was a human who was not only looking directly at it, but communicating with it too.

As the thestral started making its way around the cage, Harry said, in a slightly shaky voice, "Uh, you guys might want to move. It's coming around on the left." The students standing on that side of the group gained frightened looks and quickly made their way to the far right side while the rest just took a few steps back. Professor Barlow had come to join them and now looked extremely concerned. Catching sight of her face, Harry tried to mollify her, "The bird just spooked it. It's calmed down now. I think it's just confused that I can see it." She didn't look all that placated by his words and stood resolutely next to him, her eyes anxiously sweeping the area to the left of the cage for any sign of the approaching creature.

When the thestral reached them, Harry slowly put his hand out which it leaned down and sniffed. He could feel his professor tense beside him at the motion, but he remained as relaxed as possible- he really didn't want to spook the creature again, particularly when he wasn't really in a state to be moving out of the way with any sort of speed. Seemingly satisfied, the thestral placed the side of its face down in Harry's outstretched hand and nuzzled him. Harry smiled and moved his hand up to stroke its leathery skin.

"It might let you pet it, if you want," Harry offered to Professor Barlow, who still looked very worried by the scene playing out in front of her. Not being able to see a potentially dangerous creature that was loose around her students was not her recipe for a good class. All she could do was trust Harry's assessment, seeing as he was the only one who could actually see all of what was going on. Luckily, she did trust the boy. His soft spoken and kind nature seemed to endear him to most of the creatures that they had worked with so far that semester as well as to the professor herself. After a long hard look, taking in how at ease Harry looked sitting there with his arm presumably resting on the thestral, Barlow gave a nod. "Just, put your hand out over here," Harry said, using his unoccupied hand to show her an empty space near the thestral's head. Turning his attention back to the skeletal horse, "Do you mind if my professor says hello?" He asked it. The thestral looked into Harry's eyes for a moment before turning and sniffing at the professor's hand. She jumped a little when she felt the snuffling breath on her skin, but held her hand steady. After a long moment of held breath, the thestral settled its head into her hand. "You can pet it now. Your hand is on the side of its face and its head is stooped down, so if you just slide your hand back you can stroke its neck," Harry told her. She did so and reveled in the odd sensation of touching something that she couldn't see. The skin was smoother and warmer than she had expected based on the harsh description of thestrals she had read before. Very few people that she knew of had ever touched a thestral, so this really was an exciting and special experience.

"If the others want to have a go, it might let them too if they are polite about it," Harry offered. This lesson had gone so far off the rails that Barlow wasn't even sure what she was trying to salvage anymore, but when such a rare opportunity presented itself, it would be ridiculous to turn it down and deny her students. The Stymphalian goose had managed to nick the carcass that Barlow had dropped when she made her hasty retreat earlier and was now happily tearing it apart in its cage, paying them no mind.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Okay. Just- one at a time," Harry said. Then he turned to face his still skittish looking classmates. "Think of it kind of like approaching a hippogriff, just without the formality of bowing. Put your hand out, let it come to you. Only if it accepts you, then you can pet it."

The students reformed their sort of line and one by one they each approached Harry, Barlow, and the thestral. Harry walked them all through introducing themselves and the thestral patiently allowed each person to touch it.

When it was James' turn, as he approached he muttered at Harry, "You and your damn forest creatures, great and small."

"It's not my fault I'm so likable," he grinned back.

Mulciber was the only one who refused to come pet the thestral, though Harry assumed that that had more to do with the fact that he would've had to listen to Harry in order to do it.

By the time everyone in the class had taken their turn, class had actually run a little over, so Barlow thanked them for staying late and dismissed the class. Harry, though, wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do. The thestral hadn't moved from his side in well over an hour and he was a little worried that if he tried to walk away that it would follow him. As he sat there debating, Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily cautiously made their way over to him.

"Uh, you ready to go mate?" James asked with a note of confusion.

"Yeah, it's just- I don't want it to follow me back to the castle," Harry said, gesturing at what appeared to be the empty air beside him. Turning towards it, he said, "Thanks for letting everyone meet you. That was very nice of you. But you can head back now- I'm sure the others are missing you." The thestral and Harry's friends just blinked at him. Harry sighed, "Hand me my crutches, will you?" Once he was on his feet, he slowly made his way over to the edge of the forest. The thestral did indeed follow him. He stopped at the edge and made a gesture as if inviting some in. "Go on buddy. It's okay. I'll see you around. Go on," he coaxed and sagged a little in relief when it finally worked and he watched as the thestral disappeared into the thick of the woods.

Harry made his way back over to his friends and professor who were still standing right where he'd left them with slightly astonished looks on their faces.

"That was incredible," Barlow said, shaking herself out of her reprieve.

"I really think it was just as curious about us as we were of it," Harry said, trying to brush it off.

"That may be, but I have never even heard of a thestral allowing someone to touch it, let alone an entire class," there was awe in her voice. Harry could only imagine what would happen if he informed her that you could ride them too. It just might break her, he thought. "Thank you for facilitating, Harry," she told him kindly.

"I'm sorry for kind of hijacking your lesson, professor," he said, looking down.

"Nonsense! Hijack away if you will always be bringing such interesting creatures. This class is all about experiences. You can all pass your exams no problem if you just read the textbook, but knowing if you want to work with magical creatures, and which ones you are interested in, is all about the experiences you have and what you are exposed to. Today was a unique- and rare- experience. And one that I could not have provided on my own, so thank you." Her smile was so genuine that Harry couldn't help but return it.

The Gryffindors left their professor to deal with her angry goose and finally made their way back up to the castle. They found Remus waiting for them in the Great Hall.

"There you are! I was getting ready to send out the search party. What took you so long? Classes ended over a half hour ago?" He looked a little anxious despite his light tone.

"Bambi here made a forest friend who turned out to be a little clingy. Took a little while to shake 'em," Sirius told him as he sat down.

"Oh?" Remus turned curiously to face Harry who blushed faintly. "And what kind of forest friend would that be?"

Everyone's faces fell at that question. "A thestral," Lily answered quietly.

"Oh," the amusement was gone.

Sensing the depressing mood shift, Harry tried desperately to pull them out of their dark musing, "Hey- thestrals are cool. And Professor Barlow had this crazy murder goose!"

"Stymphalian goose," Lily automatically corrected.

"Right. Stymphalian goose. But I've never seen anything like it…" And Harry rambled on about the murder goose- which had been really interesting- until the others finally took back the conversational ball and he could relax, knowing that they were now in safer topic waters. It was not that he was ashamed or anything for being able to see thestrals. They really were very nice animals once you got past their slightly spooky appearance and the whole 'death' thing. It was more that it was something that other people didn't handle well and was yet another thing that invited questions that Harry did not want to answer. Although he was sure his friend's minds were creating him some tragic mystery past, Harry couldn't bring himself to believe that the truth would be any better than even their wildest, darkest imaginings.

That night, the boys were all sitting around on the floor playing a round of Ketchum. They were playing a variation that included a betting element, so it was almost like a game of poker had a fever dream and produced this spinoff.

"Oi! You can't pass without increasing your bet. What do I get if I catch Sirius being thick instead of lying?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. James, Peter, and Remus all bowed their heads in serious conversation.

They broke apart and Remus declared, "You get to decide how much his bet is increased by, but the number may not exceed the sum total of your own current bets in play."

Fair enough. Doing a quick count, Harry had thirteen pebbles out (they were using those in lieu of chips or actual money- though Harry had a sneaking suspicion that if he had not been there or if he had had any money to his name then they would be playing for more than pride that night). Sirius only had fifteen pebbles left in his possession and Harry was feeling benevolent, so he only made the boy add ten. While Sirius was debating which of his current bets to increase, James summoned that official Ketchum rulebook (which they had finally found about a month ago buried somewhere at the bottom of Peter's trunk) and added the new line regarding when a player is caught 'being thick' in this particular version of the game. Harry was quite pleased with himself for necessitating a new rule. On his next turn, Harry played, putting down 'four queens', leaving him with only one left.

"Yeah, right," scoffed Sirius.

"What, you think I'm lying?" Harry asked, looking genuinely hurt.

Taken aback, Sirius stuttered, "Wh- Uhh-"

Pushing his glasses up to rub at his eyes, Harry looked like he was about to cry. Taking his glasses off altogether, he turned his big, sad eyes on the other boy and said in a slightly watery voice, "Sirius, how could you?" He pulled his good leg up to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around it and tucking his chin behind his knee so that only his nose and eyes could be seen.

"No! I didn't- I wasn't-" he stammered. "Hurry up and take your turn Prongs," he snapped. James drew a card from the deck and Harry dropped his knee to reveal that he was smiling. And everyone burst out laughing. Well, everyone except Sirius, who looked floored. And then he looked pissed.

"You little shit!"

Harry was still laughing, wiping away an actual tear, "I cannot believe that worked." Sirius just continued with his murderous look. "Hey- it's not my fault you told me your kryptonite," Harry defended.

"What's 'kryptonite'?" asked James.

"It's- not worth explaining. It just means his weakness."

"Well, if you don't watch yourself I'm gonna start spelling those ugly glasses of yours into shades so that I don't have to look at those damned pathetic eyes anymore!"

Harry's expression turned back into one of hurt, with his eyes big and glistening and Sirius faltered. Harry smirked, "Ha! Some threat. You can't even pretend like you would follow through. Not a chance, Siri, non a chance." Harry shook his head triumphantly and winked.

The next day Harry was sure to be up early enough to shower, but the guys insisted on just bringing him and Remus some breakfast again (though a little earlier this time) since Charms was on the third floor and it seemed ridiculous to make Harry go all the way down to the Great Hall just to have to go back up to Charms. Biting down on his gut instinct to argue, Harry had to admit that their plan made sense and that he really didn't want to deal with any more stairs than he absolutely needed to.

So he and Remus made their way slowly down to wait outside of the Charms classroom. About fifteen minutes before class started, the rest of the Gryffindor 6th years turned up, sans Peter. Sirius handed Remus a stack of buttered toast and produced a couple of strips of bacon while James pulled out some fruit. Harry snagged a bit of the bacon before accepting an apple from James and quickly chomping down on it. While he knew Professor Flitwick was nice, Harry just really didn't want to risk anything after the disaster that had been Herbology yesterday. After he finished the apple, Lily banished the core for him and Harry snacked on a bit of toast until the classroom doors opened and they all shuffled in.

Once everyone was settled, Flitwick clambered up atop the large stack of books at the front of the classroom that he often used as a stage of sorts when lecturing and smiled brightly at the class.

"Good morning everyone! We will be jumping right in today with Bubble-Head charms. Once everyone has passed their essays in, you will pair up and practice the spell. However, with a Bubble-Head charm there is only one real way to test it," and with a wave of his wand a massive basin of water appeared up front next to the professor's desk, "so with the second half of the lesson, each group will take a turn testing their spellwork- a practicing their Drying charms too!" He added that last bit with a small chortle and a wink.

Lily came over to work with Harry for the day. He admitted to her that he already knew the spell quite well and didn't really need to practice.

"That's okay. You can just help me then- give me some pointers," she spoke in that easy, confident way that made it sound like everything was exactly as it should be. Harry smiled and nodded his assent.

Harry demonstrated the spell for her once, showing her what it looked like up close and how, when done properly, the caster may move things into and out of the bubble, but others could not.

"See, it sort of acts like a shield charm in that way. It's kind of a secret secondary use for the spell that I think a lot of people overlook. Because of that, it also purifies the air because any particulates get stopped by the bubble from entering. But it also makes the air a little thin inside of the bubble because it's actually filtering out a lot of what we breathe everyday in room air, but you get used to it after a while," he assured Lily, who was listening with wrapped attention as if he were the professor and not just some kid with a bubble on his head.

Harry canceled the spell and Lily gave it a go. It took her a couple of tries before she was able to get the bubble to form and even then, Harry was able to pop it easily. So they kept at it, with Harry tossing out little tips and advice every now and then, until Lily's charm was almost as strong as Harry's. Soon Flitwick called for anyone who felt they had mastered the charm to head down and test it, so Lily helped Harry up and they made their way to the front. Apparently they were the only ones confident enough to try and test it just yet- probably because Harry hadn't actually needed to learn the spell at all that day.

Lily went first, casting her charm and then sticking her head deep into the basin. She stayed there for two minutes and then the basin glowed green for a moment before she pulled herself out. Since the charm had been in place over her head and most of her neck, it was just the collar of her robes that were wet from the activity, but after a quick Drying charm you would've never known she had just been submerged.

"Wonderful Ms. Evans! So quickly, and on your first try!" Flitwick was delighted. Harry caught a couple of nearby Ravenclaws glaring over at them.

"Oh, well, really it was Harry who was a huge help," she blushed slightly and then so did Harry.

"Right then! Up you go, Mr. Doe," Flitwick motioned him forward.

It was very awkward and Harry couldn't quite figure out how to position himself in a way where he could remain standing and properly bend over to put his head in the basin. He really needed both hands on the crutches, but when he leaned forward, he also needed a hand on the basin so that he didn't just fall on his face. Lily saw him struggling and, without offering, stepped up to his side, wrapping an arm around his back, and helped keep him upright so that he could lean forward without toppling over. Harry gave her a shy but grateful smile before casting his charm and dunking his head. Two minutes later he resurfaced and Lily handed him back his second crutch and dried him off before he could even blink.

"Well done indeed! I dare say, you two don't seem to need much more practice," Flitwick beamed at them before leaning in a little conspiratorially. "We will be starting on extinguishing and fire-related charms next week, if you want to get a head start on that," he whispered loudly to them. Lily's eyes lit up and she turned excitedly to Harry. Harry couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm as they walked back to their seats. And soon enough, she had him caught up in it too as they were chattering back and forth about everything they knew about fire-related charms. Behind them, they missed the wink Gretta threw at James.

By the end of the lesson, only about half of the class had been able to properly cast the charm. One boy had stuck his head under the water, but with a weak bubble that leaked and had almost drowned inside of his own spell. For others, the spell just failed before the two minutes was up and they emerged from the basin sopping wet.

Flitwick stood back up on his pile of books and addressed the class just as the bell rang. "If you were not able to successfully test your spell today, do not worry. Your homework will be to practice- on dry land mind you- your charm until next class. At the beginning of each class you will be testing your charms until every student has proven they have mastered it."

That afternoon, Harry had mixed feelings as they headed towards the Defense classroom. He was sad and a little frustrated because he just knew that there was likely no way he would be allowed to participate in whatever lesson Fortin had planned. There had barely been a single day in her class that didn't involve being on your feet, dodging spells, running around, or some other sort of physical activity. He was also not excited about facing the Slytherins. Potions class had been one thing, but they were usually on their best behavior in front of their Head of House and everyone was stuck at their own station, which provided at least some sort of distance and safety. But in Defense Against the Dark Arts class they seemed to be at their most amped up and hostile and much more willing to act on their nastier impulses. But despite all of that, at the same time Harry was also a little excited because at least it was going to be the most interesting lesson he watched all week. Fortin's class never disappointed in that department.

As they entered the classroom, the first thing to catch everyone's eye was the fact that the usually barren room actually had furniture in it for once. On the far side of the room there was what appeared to be a living room setup. There was a couch and a large squishy armchair, a low coffee table with books strewn across it, a throw blanket draped across the back of the couch, a floor lamp, and a side table with what looked like a cup of tea sitting in it. There was even a rug on the floor.

At precisely 1pm, the classroom doors swung closed and Professor Fortin emerged from her office. "Today will be a dueling class. Informal and in a simulated real world environment," she said in a clipped voice as she strode into the center of the room. Well, that explained the living room setup. "Mr. Doe," Harry started a little at being called out so abruptly, "since you will not be able to physically participate today, you will instead be critiquing the duels. For each participant I want one unique thing that they did well and one way in which they could improve." Harry gulped a little. It was not that he wasn't up to the task- hell, he had been doing it already in his head during their previous dueling days and he had plenty of practice giving feedback with the DA the previous year- but he was very aware of just how not well received his feedback was going to be with the Slytherins. Not to mention that he had very little interest in helping future Death Eaters improve their dueling skills. But what choice did he really have? With Professor Fortin the options were do it or leave and he really didn't want to leave.

So instead he nodded. She conjured him a chair in the middle of the room where he would have a good view of the entire dueling area. "This also gives us an odd number," she continued, "so the last group will have a three-way duel. You may strategize as you wish, but the duel will only end when two of three are immoblizing or incapacitating for at least 15 seconds or the timer runs out." Wasting no time, she summoned the hat she always drew names out of and called out the first duel. "James Potter and Sirius Black! Potter, you will start on the left, Black, on the right."

Well, this is going to be interesting, Harry thought. He should have brought popcorn.

The boys took their positions, grinning like madmen. Once Fortin declared the arena to be set, the duel commenced, fast and messy. They threw more objects at one another than they did spells. James actually managed to dump the cup of tea out over Sirius' head, which took an impressive amount of control given that Sirius had flung the couch cushions at him at the same time. Then with a jerk of his wand, Sirius' damp robes flew up and he got tangled trying to get out. While struggling to free himself, Sirius managed to throw a Knockback jinx that somehow hit its target, shoving James back a few paces and buying Sirius enough time to sort out his robes. The two boys held eye contact for a beat, but there was no real heat in the exchange. And then Sirius set the armchair next to James tapdancing and James sent one of the books from the coffee table flying at Sirius where it snapped shut right in front of his face. Sirius staggered back a step, swatting the book away, and then made the dancing armchair double in size before blowing it up, sending fabric, fluff, and springs flying all around James' side of the room. However, James used the explosion to his advantage, knowing Sirius would be admiring his handy work and expecting James to be stunned for a moment. But James had spent enough time around the other boy that spontaneously combusting furniture no longer really phased him and he barely batted an eye. Through the raining debris, he sent another book from the coffee table flying at Sirius and this one made solid contact, slamming into his stomach. Sirius doubled over as the breath was knocked out of him and James put him in a body bind. The timer began counting down as Sirius tipped forward and crashed to the ground trapped in his awkward position. After fifteen seconds, the buzzer sounded and James freed Sirius who quickly pulled himself to his feet with a grumble.

"Mr. Doe, your critique?" Fortin asked as the barrier was lowered. Everyone turned to face Harry. He felt like he was holding court or something, sitting there in the middle of the room with all eyes trained expectantly on him as if awaiting his verdict.

"Well," Harry began, a little unsure of himself, "they both made good use of the objects in their environment, but James- you wasted too much time doing things that would piss Sirius off rather than take him down. But your spellwork was very persices, which can be hard during a chaotic duel. And Sirius- your spells were quick but a little lazy. You were just chucking things at him most of the time and I don't think you used a single spell past the 4th year level. If you used a little more of the creativity that you had in your first duel with Lily and trusted a little more in your spellwork, you probably would have been better able to keep James on his toes and maybe knock him out of his rhythm."

Fortin gave one short nod of acceptance before summoning the hat once again. "Katherine Hagit and Remus Lupin. Hagit to the left, Lupin to the right."

Their duel was a little less chaotic and more traditional, mostly just the exchanging of spells with a few more objects in the way than usual. The Slytherin girl was mixing in some nonverbal spells, which Remus was going out of his way to dodge instead of try and block. Eventually, he upturned the coffee table to use as a physical shield. Unfortunately, Hagit ended up just blasting through it, sending wood fragments everywhere and before Remus could recover she stunned him. After the buzzer sounded, Fortin revived him and turned towards Harry.

"Erh- Remus, that was good thinking using the table to hide behind- it gave you some cover and freed you up to focus on offensive magic instead of messing with maintaining a shield charm. However, you need to remember that just because you have cover does not mean you can relax. While the table protected you from minor spells, it also cut off your view of your opponent which left you extra vulnerable. And, uh, Hagit- that was a good use of nonverbal spells. You had him playing very defensively since he couldn't tell what was coming. But that also means that Remus needs to get better at identifying spells based on what they look like rather than the incantation alone. Most of what she threw at him could have just been blocked rather than dodged, which would have saved him a lot of time and effort. But, um, she should have moved around some more. If Remus hadn't been so cautious, she would have made a very easy target out in the open like that. At the very least she could have moved over to where there was more cover should she need it."

Fortin looked satisfied, so Harry let out a relieved breath. He had been talking very fast because he was so nervous. The professor repaired the coffee table before turning to Remus and saying, "To the hospital wing, Lupin. Get those cuts taken care of. If you are released before class ends, you are to return and watch the remaining duels." Looking more closely at Remus, Harry could now make out the small cuts littered across his hands, neck, and face from when the table exploded in front of him. Those had to sting. As Remus was grabbing his back to leave and getting sympathetic looks from the Gryffindors, Fortin continued, "Melanie Pura and Reina Rosamund. Pura on the left, Rosamund to the right."

As the girls got into position, neither of them looked very confident. It was odd seeing that- it just seemed so- un-Slytherin- to Harry. He was so accustomed to cocky prats with evil smirks on their faces filling out the robes donning the serpent crest. But they just looked like normal sixteen-year-old girls who were not eager to participate in gym class or something.

Interestingly, when the starting buzzer sounded, both girls' first move was to dive for cover. Pura ducked behind the armchair and Rosamund summoned the coffee table, upending it, and crouched behind it so that only her head stuck out over the top. The two threw a couple of spells at each other, but they all were absorbed by the objects that each was hunkered down behind. Then Pura sent the books all flying past Rosamund, which seemed to confuse her until the books changed course behind her and pelted her exposed back. Rosamund's eyes blazed angrily and she sent the lamp crashing into Pura who stumbled out from behind the armchair to try and avoid the falling object, but she stepped right into a stunner and the duel was over.

Understanding how this works now, Harry jumped right in once Pura was revived. "Well, they both did a good job of finding cover, but when your opponent seeks cover you have two options- go around it or get rid of it. Rosamund could have easily levitated the table and brought it with her if she really didn't want to risk being exposed as she flanked Pura or Pura could have snuck around using the couch as additional cover to get to Rosamund. Or either could have simply blasted through or even banished the others' cover. It was not like they were hiding behind a whole wall or something. But Pura did a good job of creatively getting around that by sending those books to attack from the back. And Rosamund did a good job using something else in the environment to flush her opponent out. It's important to remember that attacks can come from any side- including above or below you- so you have to be on your guard at all times and completely aware of your surroundings."

Fortin called out, "Peter Pettigrew and Ewan Duff. Pettigrew on the left, Duff, the right."

When their duel began, Peter immediately dived behind the armchair as Duff sent a few stunners his way. As Duff advanced on his position, still constantly throwing stunners, Peter scampered behind the couch, which made Duff have to go around the coffee table to get to him. Once Duff was almost upon him, Peter rushed to the far end of the couch and ducked behind the end table, tipping the couch over with a quick spell and where it landed on top of Duff. The Sytherin boy struggled to get out from under it, but the piece of furniture was just too heavy. Apparently trapped under furniture counted as immobilized, as the buzzer soon rang out and the duel was over.

Harry paused for a moment to consider this one. It was definitely an odd duel. Each of them had only really used one spell and it had ended rather fast and unexpectedly. After giving it some thought, Harry began slowly, "While it may have looked like Peter was running away, he was actually controlling the movement and location of the duel. He forced Duff to follow him, which actually gave him the tactical advantage. He knew that perhaps his opponent was a little faster than him, so he changed the rules of engagement to better suit himself, which was smart. And Duff seemed to have forgotten that he was a wizard that knew more than one spell and, like I had just said, could have just banished most of the obstacles in his way rather than wasting time going around them. But it's quite easy to forget the simple things when in the heat of the moment. It was good that he was relentless in his attacks, since it only takes one slip up from your opponent to win. And Peter could have done a little more to insure his victory. After flipping the couch, he just stayed crouched behind the table and waited out the timer. As we've learned before- down doesn't necessarily mean out. Duff could have just as easily escaped and continued his attack and Peter would have been left vulnerable where he was."

"Haleigh Willus and Lily Evans. Willus on the left, Evans to the right."

Harry had a feeling he knew how this one was going to end. Haleigh was very nice and smart, but she was not a very good duelist. Lily on the other hand was a force to be reckoned with and had improved with every dueling day they had had so far this term. Even facing off against a friend, her eyes burned with an almost manic energy as she took up a fighting stance. Haleigh gulped slightly, apparently having the same feeling as Harry about what was about to happen.

"The arena is set!" Declared Professor Fortin.

Haleigh, like so many of the others, bolted for cover behind the armchair, but Lily sent it bursting into flames. Haleigh shrieked, flailing as she fell back, the sleeve of her robes on fire. Lily threw a jet of water at her as she advanced, putting out the flames. As she scrambled back and away from Lily, Haleigh kicked out and shoved the reminisce of the armchair towards Lily who blasted it into smithereens and kept advancing through the cloud of charred chair bits. Damn- she could really be terrifying when she wanted to be. Lily sent a quick, well aimed stunner and ended the duel within the first minute. Once the buzzer sounded, she revived Haleigh and helped her sit up, asking if she was okay. Haleigh nodded as they turned to face Harry.

"I get why you did it Lily, but it was technically a waste of time to put out your opponent. It was very clever of you to not only get rid of your opponent's cover, but to use it as a weapon like that- though, you do need to be careful with fire. Your spell could have easily caught the rug on fire and turned that into a hazard and impediment for yourself. And Haleigh- you did a good job of finding an advantageous use for your ruined cover when you kicked it at Lily. Though, you lost your head a little when she set the chair, and you, on fire which is really when you lost the duel."

After checking Haleigh over, Fortin sent her off to the hospital wing too to get the burn on her arm treated before drawing the next few names. "Mildred Hawthorne and Grettadine Swothmore. Left, Hawthorne, right, Swothmore."

Milli's dueling had actually greatly improved since that first day, so Harry was kind of excited to watch these two. Both girls were mixing nonverbal spells in with their regular casting as they exchanged spellfire. A couple of hits landed, but they were using more lower-level hexes and jinxes. By minute two Gretta was sporting donkey ears and Milli's left arm was twitching uncontrollably. Gretta turned the coffee table to stone and sent it flying at Milli who used all of her quidditch-honed reflexes to jump out of the way just in the nick of time. Unfortunately, she had jumped to her left towards the floor lamp which Gretta proceeded to vanish the shade and explode the lightbulb of, causing Milli to close her eyes to avoid getting any glass in them. Seizing the moment of lowered guard, Gretta sent ropes shooting at Milli and the girl was soon bound and toppling to the floor. But as she fell, she managed to get off one last disarming spell and Gretta's wand went flying and landed, of all places, stuck in the light fixture overhead. Milli's own wand was knocked out of her hand when she fell and it rolled away across the floor as she struggled in her bindings. Unfortunately, she was not able to get free before the buzzer went off and Professor Fortin had to come over and free her as well as summon Gretta's wand back down.

"Well, you both did a good job of adding in some nonverbal spellwork in order to keep one another on their toes, but, in general, you were not really using powerful enough spells. It's good to mix in lower-level spells so that you don't exhaust yourself, but at the same time they at least need to be serving some purpose towards winning the duel. That was a good use of transfiguration to make the table heavier and more damaging before you threw it, Gretta. And Milli- it was good that you didn't give up once you were bound. Like I said before- down doesn't mean out. And by disarming your opponent like that, you ensured that she couldn't then turn around and attack someone else once she was done with you. But Gretta- once you were disarmed, you should have grabbed Milli's wand. Any wand is better than no wand, even if you aren't super compatible with it, at the very least then someone else won't pick it up and use it against you." Both girls nodded as he spoke and looked as though they were listening rather intently to him.

"Joshua Avery and Egon Mulciber. Avery to the left, Mulciber to the right."

The two brutish boys squared off with a dark and threatening glint in their eyes. Harry shivered slightly. This was not going to be pretty. And Harry was right. It was a bloodbath from the start- Mulciber sent a series of cutting hexes at Avery as the other boy sent a blasting curse his way quickly followed by an impediment jinx so that he could not get away. Mulciber was thrown backwards and landed with a solid thud against the floor. Avery had not been able to avoid all of the hexes, so he was bleeding from a long gash on his cheek as he advanced on Mulciber, throwing the coffee table at him as he came upon it. Mulciber was just clambering to his feet when the table came hurtling towards him. He tried to dodge it, but was not able to get out of the way fast enough. But he was able to conjure up a shield charm at the last second which the table bounced off of and clattered away. Avery shot off a jet of flames and a Leg-Locker curse while Mulciber sent what Harry was pretty sure was a Gouging spell at Avery. It was a good thing Avery managed to lean out of the way because that was not a spell designed to be used on people, but rather on solid rock. Harry shuttered to think what it would do to something made out of flesh and blood. Avery seemed to be thinking along the same lines as his face suddenly contorted with a whole new level of fury and blasted Mulciber back again before disarming him, binding him, and kicking him for good measure. He loomed over his defeated opponent, glaring down at him until the buzzer sounded. Avery didn't bother freeing his friend, just turned and stalked away.

Harry gulped a little before taking a steadying breath. He just needed to get through this. "Avery did a good job of taking advantage of the small openings his opponent gave him, although, if he had utilized more defensive techniques he may have walked away without injury. Mulciber was too slow both with his dodging and his wand work which allowed Avery to do more damage in the same amount of time, but he did a good job of making the spells he got off really count." Harry spoke as succinctly and as matter-of-factly as possible.

Fortin nodded in acceptance of his assessment and barked, "Avery- to the hospital wing." The tall boy continued to glare as he made his way over to his bag and smeared at Harry as he walked past and out of the classroom. "Right- now we have reached our three-way duel. Phoebe Neith, Kennieth Knotting, and Severus Snape. Neith on the left, Knotting, you will begin behind the couch, and Snape to the right." Once everyone was in place, she called out one last time, "The arena is set!"

None of them made a move immediately, all assessing the situation and trying to size each other up. Harry was not surprised that it was eventually Snape who made the first move. He sent the coffee table flying at Neith and then the books that used to be on top of it soaring towards Knotting. Neith blasted apart the table as it approached sending more splinters across the room. Knotting wasn't so fast, so he got whacked with the books before dropping down behind the couch for cover. While keeping half an eye out for any movement behind the couch, Snape and Neith began their own savage duel. Snape was casting mostly nonverbally, but Neith's spells were just a little more creative and harder to counter than the ones Snape was using. This meant a lot of dodging on his part, but the boy was nothing if not nimble on his feet. Eventually Knotting made the mistake of peeking his head over the back of the couch to see how the duel was going and Neith immediately hit him with a stunner and the boy crumpled to the floor. As their duel continued, Snape began inching his way around towards the couch and other furniture in the room. He shattered the end table and sent the splinters flying at Neith. Using her moment of distraction while she shielded herself from the projectiles, he stooped down behind the couch and actually revived Knotting. The boy sat up and Snape jerked his head towards Neith in silent communication. Snape got on his other side before giving him a nod and both boys sprang up from behind the couch each sending a volley of stunners at Neith. She managed to get off a few spells before she went down, but Snape had rolled out of the way while Knotting was struck and collapsed yet again. Snape stood and casually brushed himself off as the timer ticked down and the duel ended. With two subtle flicks of his wand, both of his opponents were revived. Snape smirked as Neith glared at him. Knotting didn't look all that upset, as though he had expected nothing less to happen.

At least this was the last one, Harry thought thankfully. Why all of the Slytherins had to be saved for last, Merlin only knew, but he bit the bullet so that they could all be done. "Knotting did a good job taking cover when it was clear that he was not going to be competitive in the beginning of the duel, but he should have just let Snape and Neith take each other out. Eventually one of them would have overpowered the other and then he would just have to face one, already worn down opponent. It was very clever of Snape to seemingly go against his goal and revive one of his opponents to help him take out the third. Neith was the bigger threat. Her spellwork was fast and she kept changing things up to keep her opponents on their toes. But she shouldn't have underestimated Knotting and dismissed him as a potential threat, even after he was down. And Snape needed to mix up his spells more. While the nonverbal casting was impressive, there was a pattern to them that his opponents may have picked up on sooner or later, so tossing in a verbal spell now and then would have actually helped him rather than hurt him."

Fortin gave a nod as she lowered the barrier once again. "Good. Not a bad showing today class. You are improving. I encourage you all to listen to Mr. Doe's critiques. Everything he has said today was true and made a valid point. These are the kind of evaluations you should be doing for yourself and your classmates after every exercise as it is the best way to improve and become a better strategist. This will be all for today- I will see you all on Friday. Dismissed!" Fortin promptly turned her back to them and began vanishing the living room setup.

James handed Harry his crutches as the rest of the Gryffindors came and joined them. Remus and Haleigh had turned back up from their visits to the hospital wing sometime during the last few Slytherin duels. Remus looked good as new while Haleigh was sporting a bandage around her arm that was peeking out from under her robes.

Harry could hear Lily apologizing to her, "I'm so sorry- I really didn't mean for you to get hurt!"

"It's fine Lily- really. It'll be completely healed by the end of the day. Just one of the risks of dueling. And I would much rather end up in the hospital wing than have you going easy on me. Neither of us would learn a thing that way." Haleigh knew such practical logic was the best way to get through to her friend.

As they started making their way out of the classroom, Sirius threw a sideways look at Harry and said, "Blimey, mate. You should be teaching dueling classes. With the way you talk about it- you gave better feedback then Fortin!"

"Oooh- Harry, would you?!" The excitement could be heard in Lily's voice.

"Would I what?" Harry asked, stopping for a second to readjust his grip before they started off on the long journey towards the Great Hall or wherever they were going.

"Teach us! I mean, you're so good and we all want to get better and be able to beat the Slytherins and properly defend ourselves… Please!"

Harry paused to consider this. It was not like he hadn't done basically just that with the DA last year. And while he trusted Fortin infinitely more than Unbridge as a defense teacher, could it really hurt for them all to have a little extra dueling practice? As long as they were safe about it… But Harry was ripped from his musings as something large rammed into him, sending him violently crashing to the floor. His hands got caught up in his crutches, so he wasn't even able to really break his fall other than by aiming to land on his shoulder instead of his face. As he painfully rolled over, Harry looked up at the looming form of Mulciber.

"Sorry Doe- guess you're just too damn slow," he grinned down at Harry before swiftly moving past him and disappearing around a nearby corner.

"Harry!" Somebody yelled. Having heard the clatter and thud, the rest of the Gryffindors drew to a confused halt before turning around to find Harry sprawled on the floor a few meters behind them. They rushed over to him. As they crowded around, a few people asked, "Are you okay?!" and "What happened?!"

But at the moment Harry was focused on disentangling himself from his crutches. His right arm was smarting from where it made contact with the floor and his knee was pissed at the mistreatment. Once he had managed to free himself, he looked up into the concerned faces all around him and said, "Mulciber didn't appreciate my feedback," with a shrug. Harry went to push himself up into a sitting position, but let out a hiss when his right wrist vehemently protested the action.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked worriedly. He was definitely hovering.

Ignoring the question, Harry instead asked, "Uh, would you mind helping me sit up?" Blushing faintly and sticking out his left hand. Sirius obliged and pulled Harry up, helping him to lean back against the wall. Harry sat there for a moment, wrist cradled in his lap, thinking. Really the last thing he wanted right then was to spend another second in the hospital wing, but he wasn't really sure what his alternatives were. With a hurt wrist, it would be hell to use the crutches and therefore to walk anywhere. The idea of having to get all the way up to Gryffindor tower like that made him slightly nauseous just sitting there thinking about it. And it wasn't likely to get better overnight, especially if he was putting all of his weight on it all day. Fuck.

When he finally looked up, there was a hint of pain on Harry's face that had nothing to with the physical injury. "I-" Harry stuttered, literally choking on his pride, "I think I need to see Madam Pomfrey." He said the words so quietly the others almost didn't catch it.

But they did. And they scrambled to suppress their shocked and concerned expressions at the admission.

"Shit," Sirius breathed. "What's wrong?" He asked again more firmly.

"I just- landed on my wrist wrong," Harry mumbled. After taking a few deep breaths, he said more clearly, "Could you help me up?" And stuck out his left hand again, already bracing for the anticipated pain.

"No." Sirius was shaking his head.

"What?" Harry was a little shocked that he was refusing to help him. "Uh- James, would you help me up?" He asked uneasily.

But Sirius put his hand up to stop any movement. "That's not what I meant. I meant that you shouldn't be walking. You'll just mess it up more. Or worse, you'll fall again and screw up your knee too. Or something else. Just- let me carry you." His voice went up at the end and turned almost pleading.

"No," Harry shook his head vigorously. "I can make it. Just- help me up."

"Harry, he does have a point…" Lily put in.

"No!" Harry insisted.

"We could levitate you, if you'd prefer," Remus offered. Harry just gave him an unamused look. Remus very well knew Harry would not prefer that.

"Well, we are not going to help you hurt yourself, so your options are to sit here until someone else comes along, have us summon Madam Pomfrey here- who you know will just levitate you to the hospital wing, let us levitate you, or let Sirius carry you," Lily summarized sternly.

Fuck. This sucked. It turns out, people who care can be really annoying. Harry sighed dramatically, crossing his left arm over his chest petulantly and looking away from all of them. Why did Lily have to sound so reasonable? The way she said it made him feel silly. Like a child throwing a fit in a store whose mother threatened to leave them there or forcibly remove them if they didn't calm down that instant. And with the pang that thought gave him, Harry crumbled.

"Fine," he sighed. And Sirius stooped down and gently scooped him up. Harry grit his teeth against the pain as he settled in Sirius' arms, wrapping his own free one around the other boy's neck. As Sirius rose, the others fell in around him, closing in a protective circle and blocking Harry from the view of any curious onlookers. Harry was so thankful it almost brought a tear to his eye as they made their steady way towards the hospital wing.

Pomfrey's heart stuttered at the sight of the entire class of Gryffindor 6th years entering her infirmary. This was the third time this year they had arrived en masse and it was now officially a pattern. And one that ended with a certain little injured lion. Her prediction was sadly confirmed when the front few stepped aside to reveal the small boy cradled in Sirius' arms.

She motioned them over to a bed as she asked, "Oh, Harry. What happened? You better not have been dueling…" She gave him a dangerous expression at that last bit.

Sirius set him down while James deposited his crutches nearby. Harry let out a little huff. "I just fell and landed wrong on my wrist," he said, still guarding his right arm in his lap.

"No," Sirius said fiercely. "You didn't 'fall', Mulciber pushed you. I swear- if you don't start properly using that vocabulary I know you have, we are going to have a problem."

Madam Pomfrey didn't chide Sirius for interrupting, and if her face was anything to go by, it actually looked like she agreed with him. "Is there anything else besides the wrist?" She asked with a critically raised eyebrow.

"Uh, my knee hurts too," Harry admitted quietly.

"Right, then," Pomfrey gave a nod as she began casting a few diagnostics spells over his arm and knee. A few minutes later she let out a long breath. "Well, fortunately your knee does seem to be healing and you didn't reinjure it too badly- it is likely just painful from being jarred. However, there is a small fracture in your wrist that will need to be mended before you can think about using those crutches again. And since this is the third time you have injured that wrist in the past two months, I want you to wear a brace as well at least until you are off of the crutches and maybe beyond that. If you keep this up, there will be lasting damage at some point."

Harry grumbled. The way she said it, you'd've thought that he had walked up to a door and slammed his wrist in it. He didn't mean to fall or get attacked by Moony or be a shitty beater- those things just- happened.

As Madam Pomfrey moved away to go gather some supplies, the others pressed in around his bed.

Remus stood with his arms crossed, looking down at Harry with a serious expression. "Harry- you really need to stop lying about these things."

Harry's head snapped up to look at him. "I am not a lier!" Harry snarled, unconsciously clenching his right hand into a fist that made the scars borne there stand out a bloodless white, despite the pain it caused.

"Lying to yourself still counts! Honestly- you had a broken wrist and still wanted to drag yourself up three flights of stairs to the hospital wing without any help!" His expression turned sad. "While I am glad that you finally admitted to needing any medical attention in the first place, your overall refusal to accept help when it is offered only serves to hurt yourself and to make our lives more difficult." Harry's face fell at that.

"Rem-" Sirius interjected.

"No. He needs to hear this," Remus told him before turning his calm face back to Harry. "Like it or not, we care about you. And you have to know how much it sucks to watch someone you care about suffer. And I can tell you that it hurts just that much more when they're suffering due to their own self-destructive tendencies. It's not a weakness to admit that you're hurt or need help- it's a kindness, to us and to yourself. And I already know that you are a kind person- I just wish that you would extend that kindness to include yourself."

Harry had to look away. Remus' words hurt and he wasn't even quite sure why. They weren't mean and he didn't sound angry or anything. It was actually quite the contrary. His words were so understanding that it hurt. And Harry just didn't know how to deal with it.

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey arrived once again, breaking the stifling atmosphere that had settled around Harry's head.

"Alright dear, just a little bit of Skele-Gro and a pain potion and you should be able to sleep off the worst of it." Harry's appalled face at the mention of Skele-Gro told the matron that the boy had definitely encountered the potion before. It was a well informed look of disgust. "Oh, don't give me that face. We could always just wait for it to heal naturally. Though, that would mean you would be stuck here for the next week until that leg heals up," she said innocently. Harry's face shifted into a mild glare as he reluctantly accepted the vile potion. "There's a good lad," she said cheerily. "And we'll see in the morning how that wrist is looking. If it is fully healed, I may let you return to lessons. Now, drink up!" And she watched intently as Harry downed the Skele-Gro followed by the pain reliever.

Harry's eyelids instantly grew heavy and he began to slump down in the bed. "We'll see ya tomorrow, Bambi," Sirius said as the gaggle of Gryffindors left the wing. And before Harry even knew it, he was out.

Thankfully, the next morning Pomfrey reluctantly declared Harry's wrist fully healed, though she did follow through on her threat to make him wear a brace on it for the foreseeable future. After eating breakfast, getting changed, and passing one last final inspection from the matron, Harry was running late to class. Of course, it was Potions- all the way down in the cold dungeons, with Slughorn and his Slytherins.

Harry arrived almost fifteen minutes late. He slipped into class as quietly as he could manage- which was with about as much grace as an offended hippogriff in a china shop with how he had to heave the door open, catching it carefully with one crutch as he hopped through before making his way slowly over to the only empty seat on the far side of the classroom and setting down his crutches as gently as he could as he hauled up his bag to dig out his Potions book.

"Now, really, Mr. Doe." Slughorn said, interrupting his own lecture to reprimand Harry. "I gave you leniency last class as you were coming from across the castle, but seeing as how this is the first lesson of the day, I can only assume that poor planning and a lack of time management caused your tardiness, which is unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said as politely as he could manage, trying to keep the embarrassment off of his face. "But I only just got released from the hospital wing this morning and I came straight here." He held up his right arm in evidence. Harry could see Mulciber and Avery snickering over their caudron across the room.

"I see." Slughorn gave Harry a calculating look as if searching for any potential flaws in his story. Apparently finding none, he said curtly, "Do attempt to be on time next class."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed readily, though he knew he likely could not abide by it. He would be coming from Charms again, all the way across the castle, and they already knew how that turned out last time.

Mercifully, the rest of the week passed without further incident. Besides having to put up with Mulciber's cruel delight every time he looked at Harry in Potions, Defense, and Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Kerner's continued bad attitude towards Harry, the week wrapped up easily enough.

That weekend was the Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. While Harry loved playing quidditch, he also enjoyed watching it too. He hadn't had too many opportunities to watch many matches- really just the few non-Gryffindor matches at Hogwarts he had been able to make it to and the one world cup game- but he had always enjoyed himself at them. Or even just watching his friends muck about at the Weasley's over the summer. And it was a very distinct experience watching one from the stands. When he is up in the air playing, there is a certain level of separation from the crowd. Of course, you can still hear them shouting and feel their energy, but when you are down in the thick of it, it is infectious. You just cannot help but to be swept up in it.

Beth demanded the team attend together as a sort of combination recon mission and bonding activity which Harry had no qualms with. He got along well with all of his fellow members of the Gryffindor team and had found that quidditch matches were always more enjoyable with other quidditch fans. Harry loved Hermione, but she could be a right downer at a match- always chattering on about something completely unrelated, not paying any attention to the action, and wanting to leave right away once the snitch was caught in order to 'beat the rush'- as if that was something that he wanted to do.

So on Saturday morning, Harry dragged himself down to the freezing quidditch pitch and up far too many flights of stairs to then finally settle into the stands for the match. He was sat between Milli and James who had been determined to be the least likely to accidentally trample him in their excitement about the game. Harry just leaned back and rested against the bench behind him, tucking his cloak closely around himself, as he waited for the match to start. Beth had insisted that they arrive extra early to ensure that they had the best seats- right in the center of the pitch, front row. And with how long it took Harry to get there, she had built in extra buffer time, so there was still almost an hour to go before the match was slated to begin.

"Wake me up when someone's actually playing quidditch," Harry requested as he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

He was awoken by someone jabbing a pointy finger into his side and he swiftly slapped it away.

"Ow!"

Opening his eyes, Harry looked over at James, who was cradling his left hand close to his chest.

"You asked us to wake you and this is the thanks I get," he huffed.

Rolling his eyes, Harry sat up. "Well, you should know better than to wake me up like that. Is the match starting?" He leaned forward to look over the rail.

"About to. The teams just entered the pitch."

Looking down, Harry noted that this Slytherin team also seemed to have opted for brawn over brains. He could identify Dolohov and Mulciber as the team's two beaters, but didn't recognize any of the other players- at least, not at this distance. Basically everyone on the team was built like a tank except for one smaller dark-haired boy who Harry assumed was their seeker. The Ravenclaw team was much more balanced- a mix of girls and guys from across the years. Standing across from the Slytherin team though, they looked incredibly human? Harry wasn't sure if that was the right word for it. Maybe mortal was a little closer. Whatever it was, it was not very reassuring.

The teams soon took to the skies and with a shrill blast of Barlow's whistle, the game commenced. As Harry watched the match, he learned one important thing that he hadn't really ever considered before. Unlike in the football matches he'd grown up watching with the muggles, there are no red cards in Quidditch. The Slytherin's had some of the dirtiest moves he'd ever seen, but the only repercussions were penalty shots awarded to the other team. Never before had he seen a chaser attack a keeper or a beater take a swing at another player with their bat without at least feigning to be hitting a nearby bludger… It was just brutal. Harry had always heard that quidditch matches were never stopped for anything- not even the death of one of the players. Never before had he been so afraid that he just might actually see that rule need to be enforced then he was that day. Harry didn't care what Beth said- he decided right then and there that he was ending their match with the Slytherins as quickly as possible. There would be no waiting for the magic number of points or 'the signal'. He wanted his teammates to survive the match and that meant getting them the fuck off the pitch as soon as humanly possible.

Harry watched as Dolohov grabbed ahold of one of the Ravenclaw chaser's robes as she flew past him with the quaffle and tried to bodily yank her off of her broom. She kicked at him to try and get him to let go, but then Barlow blew her whistle and awarded both teams a foul. To Harry, that seemed incredibly unfair since if Dolohov hadn't grabbed her, the chaser probably wouldn't have needed to kick him, but technically kicking is a foul. It was that kind of dirty, sneaky, but technically valid within the confines of the game tactic that the whole Slytherin strategy seemed to be built around.

The carnage continued for another thirty minutes before someone finally spotted the snitch.

"It looks like the Ravenclaw seeker has seen the snitch!" Boomed the announcer. "But Black is in hot pursuit!"

"Black?" Harry gasped- he couldn't help it.

"Yeah- uh, that's Regulus. Sirius' younger brother. They- uh- don't get on very well," James explained lamely.

Harry leaned forward even further, trying to get a better look at the green-gray blur. He had technically known that Sirius had had a brother, but he had never really given it much thought. Sirius hadn't talked about him that much. Harry just knew that he was a Death Eater and that he had died pretty young- sometime during the first war. It hadn't even occurred to him that the boy was probably at Hogwarts right now.

Harry caught sight of the snitch too as the seekers bolted after it. It was fluttering down near the ground over by the Hufflepuff stands. The Ravenclaw seeker had made a miscalculation by shooting off after the snitch like she had. Harry had recognized her from his Care of Magical Creatures class- Jasmine Wroth, he was pretty sure. But by showing her hand, she allowed Regulus enough time to catch up with her and now they were locked in a heated race towards the little ball. As they drew close- within a meter of the snitch- Regulus threw an elbow into poor Jasmine's face, giving her a bloody nose and sending her reeling.

"She's gonna crash!" Harry warned, not wanting to watch, but unable to look away.

As Regulus' hand closed around the snitch, Jasmine's broom caught the ground and pitched her forward, sending her tumbling across the grass. Thankfully, she'd already been flying low, so she didn't have far to fall and she'd also been slowing down since she'd been hit, so her velocity didn't carry her too far. But she still ended up in a heap a few meters away from her broom as Regulus did a victory lap, holding the golden snitch aloft, smiling in a very self-important way that almost reminded Harry of Percy Weasley whenever he was doing anything on 'official Ministry business'.

Much to Harry's relief, Jasmine soon got up and her teammates helped her off the pitch. Harry had a feeling that their captain was about to mandate some 'mandatory team bonding in the infirmary' too. It was the first time in his life that Harry was just glad that a quidditch match was over. It had been painful to watch and Harry was absolutely freezing. December had come in cold and unforgiving and sitting up in the stands, the wind tore through his meager layers of clothing as if they were not even there. Unfortunately, they had to wait for everyone else to clear out before Harry would be able to safely make his way back down the stairs and back into the blessed heat of the castle. It was just not worth the risk of being jostled or someone accidentally knocking into him with the excited and energetic crowd all rushing for the exits.

As the crowd began to thin, Harry realized that he might have a slight problem. Despite his near constant renewal of the heating charm on his cloak, he was now cold to the point of starting to go a little numb. And he couldn't feel his hands. And if he couldn't feel his hands, he was going to have a very difficult time gripping his crutches, let alone navigating his way down the stairs. A little desperately, he brought his hands up to his mouth and started breathing on them, trying to get some heat and blood flow going.

"Okay," Beth said, standing up, "looks like it should be safe to head down now." And the rest of the team began to rise as well.

"Uh- just- give me a second?" Harry asked, redoubling his efforts to breathe some life back into his hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked, looking at him quizzically.

"Erh- My, ah, hands just went a little numb. Not sure they'll be very useful just yet," he told her before returning to his task.

James pulled his hands out of his own pockets and grabbed a hold of Harry's. "Merlin! You're freezing!" He gasped and then shivered as if Harry's chill had invaded his body too.

"No shit," Harry said, giving him a flat look. "I'm just glad the match didn't run any longer or else you lot might've had to scrape my frozen arse off of the bench."

"Here, gimme," James pulled Harry's frigid hands over to rub between his own overly warm ones before he stilled, looking down at Harry's now exposed arms. "Harry," he said a little slowly, "why aren't you wearing a coat?"

"I don't have one." Harry felt his face flush, despite the cold, as he ducked his head a little.

Sirius was leaning over now. "Bambi- it's like, two degrees this morning. Are you insane? You could've borrowed a jumper at least or something." Worry creased his brow as he looked down at Harry.

"It's fine. I have a heating charm on my cloak," Harry said defensively, pulling his hands back from James and tucking them resolutely under his arms instead, letting his cloak fall closed around him. Truth be told, his arms were getting cold exposed like that, even if James' hands were warm.

"Oh yeah," Sirius scoffed, "so 'fine' that body parts are going numb. I'm guessing you don't have any gloves either?"

"Well, it's not like I really had a chance to pack for the school year before I fell into the forest," Harry groused.

Everyone took in a little breath when he said that. Other than when he was in the infirmary that first day he arrived, and briefly the other night when he was explaining why he had wandered into the Forbidden Forest during the full moon, Harry had never mentioned how he had come to arrive at Hogwarts. Of course, the whole school had heard his story and the rumor mill had churned out countless spinoffs and variants of how the boy came to stumble out of the woods one morning, but no one outside of his dormmates have ever once heard Harry bring it up. They all assumed that he didn't want to talk about it and did their best to respect that, as the Headmaster had requested. So even that tidbit of information was scintillating to them.

"You know that's not what I meant. I just- we're going through your wardrobe when we get back," Sirius stated.

Harry knew it was no use to fight him on this. When he made sweeping declarations like that, Sirius was like a dog with a bone- nothing could make him drop it. And Harry really didn't want to fight him in front of the entire quidditch team. Whatever. "Just prepare to be disappointed- it's not very exciting. I own like three shirts," Harry shrugged.

A couple of minutes later, Harry pulled his hands back out and flexed them experimentally. Seemingly satisfied with the results, he said, "Okay, let's go." James handed over his crutches and helped pull Harry to his feet. The team made their way slowly down from the stands and back across the grounds to the castle. When they finally reached the Entrance Hall, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Sirius muttered something about having an 'errand to run' and split off from the group, disappearing down a staircase to their left before Beth even had a chance to protest him ditching them. The rest of the team continued their slow climb up to Gryffindor tower.

As they climbed through the portrait hole, they were met by a grinning Sirius. "Took your sweet time, did you?"

"Sod off," Harry said as he collapsed onto a couch by the fire, propping his aching leg up on the low table in front of him. Fortunately, it wasn't nearly as painful as it had been at the beginning of the week (or after his fall), but it still gave him trouble when he did a lot of moving about. Like trekking across the entire grounds and climbing up and down what probably amounted to about twenty flights of stairs. Harry was pretty sure he would be sore right now even without the knee injury.

"Awe- don't be like that. I brought you something!" And Sirius tossed what looked awfully like a muggle thermos at Harry who instinctively caught it.

"What is it?" He asked, eyeing Sirius and the bottle suspiciously. It didn't seem wise to accept gifts from him without any explanation. Especially one that looked like food. Much like with the Weasley twins, he could only imagine what horrible things might be in it.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's not poisoned. It'd be a bit tactless for me to try and kill you twice in one week," he winked. Harry was glad that Sirius seemed to have taken that particular rumor in stride.

Cautiously unscrewing the lid- just in case it did try and explode or something, Harry gave the contents a tentative sniff. Warm, sweet air hit his face and he took a tiny sip. It was hot chocolate. Harry grinned and took a larger sip before turning to Sirius and saying, "Thanks!" Before curling around the warm container while the drink helped melt him from the inside out. Somebody chucked a blanket at him, which Harry grudgingly accepted, and sometime in the next twenty minutes or so Harry started to feel human once again, with full sensation in all of his body parts.

During that time period, most of the team had wandered off once 'mandatory bonding time' had been declared officially over by Beth, and Lily and Gretta had come and joined them along with Peter and Remus.

"What's his problem?" Peter asked with a nod at Harry, who was completely zoned out, staring into the fire.

"Turned into a little Doe-cicle at the match," James explained. "He's just thawing out."

A little while later, Harry blinked back into reality, tuning into the conversation around him.

"Well, I'm not poking him- you poke him!" Peter hissed.

"I'm not poking him- he slapped me earlier when I did that," James moaned.

"Well then why on earth would I want to poke him?!" Peter squawked.

"It was your bloody idea!" James jeered.

"If anyone bloody pokes me I'll hex them," Harry told them, making everyone jump. He sat up and turned to face the others.

"Were you asleep?" Peter asked eagerly. "Your eyes were open, but you weren't really looking at anything. It was kinda creepy. We had a bet going on if you were sleeping with your eyes open, so, were you?"

"Erh- no? I don't think so. What does it matter? That's a stupid thing to bet on."

"Thank you!" Lily said vehemently. "That's what I told them ten minutes ago when they started this inane debate. I told them they should just leave you alone, but no- they just couldn't manage that."

"Now Lily, be fair. You know this lot's not really known for their intelligence- resilience is how they've made it this far, so you cannot fault them for sticking to that," Harry said with a wise nod and Lily snorted.

"Did he just call us stupid?" Peter cocked his head to the side.

"I think he just called us stupid," James confirmed.

"Idiots." Lily rolled her eyes. "He called you persistent." Then she added under her breath, "Like a dying lightbulb- persistently dim." Harry snorted at that.

James and Peter still looked a little lost and mildly offended, but James pushed on nonetheless, "Speaking of persistent- Pads wants you upstairs." He pulled at Harry's arm.

"Ugh. Fine. Where'd my crutches end up?" Harry said, looking around the couch.

"Over here!" Called Peter before he handed them over. Harry tucked the still half full thermos into his robes pocket and then dragged himself up off the couch.

"See you at dinner," Harry told the girls as James dragged him away and up to their dormitory where Sirius was indeed waiting for them. He had that mad gleam in his eye that Harry had come to associate with an impending situation. It was not always necessarily a bad situation, per say, but it was always dramatic in some way or another.

"Okay, Bambi- time for show and tell!" Sirius was bouncing in the center of the room. Remus was sat at his desk looking on with a placid expression, but judging by the curiosity in his eyes, Sirius had not bothered to explain why he was so amped up. James went and took a seat on the floor, leaning his back up against the foot of his bed while Peter went and perched on the edge of his own.

Harry just sighed as he moved to sit on his bed, summoning his desk chair over and then levitating his trunk to sit on top of it. Opening the lid, he pulled out his clothes and laid them out on the bed next to him. All in all there was one spare school robe, two uniform shirts, one pair of uniform trousers (he was currently wearing the other ones), a pair of cotton workout shorts, a plain white t-shirt, and a couple of pairs of socks. He was also currently wearing the long sleeve cotton shirt that he slept in most nights. It had a few holes in it now since that night in the forest, but it was still the most comfortable and warm piece of clothing he owned besides his cloak.

"I told you that it wasn't worth getting all that excited about," Harry said dully.

Sirius came over to inspect the modest pile. "I really thought you were joking when you said that you owned three shirts," he frowned.

"Technically, I own four," Harry pointed out, pulling at the one currently on his body. "And I'm just thankful they gave me something to wear besides what I showed up in and those dreaded hospital pajamas," Harry shuddered. "But hey- they fit and thanks to the house elves' diligence with the washing, I manage to get myself dressed every morning in clean clothes just fine."

Well that's a low bar, Sirius thought. But the longer he stood there, the more he saw that Harry really believed what he'd said. He hadn't said it as some kind of sarcastic joke- he genuinely thought it was kind of the school to give him a shirt to wear. He acted like the second one was just icing on the cake! Thinking back on it, Harry had never once complained about not having something even though he quite evidently didn't have a lot. Actually, Sirius had just never heard Harry complain about anything. Sure, he'd been embarrassed when it came up that he didn't have any money or a broom or a coat, but he'd never complained about it. He never asked anyone for anything as if this was just the way he thought things should be. Sirius had never met a person with absolutely no expectations quite like Harry. In that moment Sirius was finally able to pinpoint exactly what he so often found so unsettling about their new dormmate- it was his complete and utter lack of expectations. He didn't expect to be given clothes. He didn't expect people to like him. He didn't expect people to help him. He didn't expect people to care about him or if he was in pain or made it to breakfast. He was 100% ready at any moment to not rely on another person for anything. And that was fucked up.

Not able to look at Harry for the moment as all of that hit him, Sirius quickly turned around and strode over to his own truck, flipping it open and rummaging around in it for a moment before pulling out an old, blue-gray jumper and tossing it at Harry. "It's old and it doesn't fit me anymore, but you're so scrawny it'll probably swallow you whole. Can't have you freezing to death in the Scottish winter. The castle gets bloody cold." It wasn't technically true- Sirius did still like to wear that sweater sometimes, but he had others and he knew what Harry needed to hear in order to be willing to accept the gift. And he meant it about not letting Harry freeze.

Harry looked very reluctant, but pulled the sweater on all the same, snuggling up into the near instant warmth it provided. Damn kid must have been freezing for weeks! James had moved over to his wardrobe and came out holding one of his older coats.

"You can at least borrow this for the winter. I have a couple, so don't worry about it." James draped it over the back of Harry's desk chair.

Remus pulled out a pair of old joggers and said thoughtfully, "We could probably shrink these to fit you- it doesn't look like you have any non-uniform trousers."

"I, uh, used to have a pair, but- Pomfrey kind of vanished them last week," Harry confessed.

Thinking about it, Remus did recall that that was usually what Harry wore to bed. The long sleeve shirt that he had on now with a pair of joggers- until recently he had switched to shorts. Remus had just assumed that had to do with the knee brace getting in the way or something and not wanting to mess with it. Remus walked over and handed Harry the bottoms. With a quick flick of his wand, Harry traded out his uniform trousers for the joggers, which were indeed much too big on him. But with another little wave, they shrank until they resembled the proper size. Harry wished he could do that with all of his clothes back home, but he knew that aunt Petunia would just burn them if he did, not daring to have anything that had been touched by magic loose in her house. Hell- she didn't even allow Harry loose in her house.

"Thanks," Harry told them all quietly, with a small but genuine smile. He spelled the rest of his stuff back into his trunk before curling up on his bed as best he could and just reveling in being warm and comfortable for what felt like the first time in ages. He sipped on the hot chocolate a little more, and noted that it had the faintest hint of cinnamon in it. It was delicious. The content feeling welling up inside of Harry lulled him off to sleep.

Looking over at where Harry had fallen asleep half curled up on his bed, Sirius turned to the other boys.

"He's a nice bloke and all, but doesn't he sometimes just break your heart?" Sirius said quietly. The others nodded. Sirius took a moment to search for the words that he was trying to say. "And it's just- Remus, I get what you were trying to say to him in the hospital wing the other day and I'm not saying that he didn't need to hear it-" Sirius preemptively defended himself, "but I think we also need to bear in mind that thinking the way he does doesn't just- happen. It takes a lifetime's worth of training to create that kind of thought process and such ingrained habits. Hell, my family tried for the first ten years of my life to train me like that and even those psychos couldn't manage it. And it's just- someone did that to him." He brought a hand up to his hair and pulled at it a little desperately. "If the scars weren't enough- his whole world view is just a little fucked. And I think that we need to remember that old habits die hard. He's not going to just wake up one day and think 'oh, everything that I've been taught to think is wrong and a lie, well, I guess I'll just change it then'. You know? At this point, it's probably just instinct. And his instincts just seem to stem from a complete and utter lack of self worth or some shit. And I think it's going to be a steep learning curve for him because it's hard to unlearn something your do instinctually. Like how you duck when someone throws something at you. But his instinct is to duck when someone tries to help or care. And it's messed up, but it's also not his fault. Someone taught him to duck." Sirius finished, a little frantic and distraught.

The others all looked at Sirius for a long moment following his impromptu tirade.

"So, you're saying that we shouldn't be mad about him trying to freeze to death today," James said slowly, trying to process everything Sirius had said.

"I'm saying that we shouldn't be mad at him about trying to freeze to death today. And we should count it as a victory that he accepted the trousers, jumper, and coat. I really don't think that was easy for him to do." Sirius turned suddenly and started pacing. "And I don't know about you, but I don't think it's possible for me not to get angry when he says shit like 'I'm fine' when he's bleeding out or has broken bones or whatever. But I also think that that anger is just triggering those same impulses. I mean- I've never seen someone dig their heels in quite as hard as Bambi when he hears the word 'infirmary'. But I have a feeling that he would have the same reaction if we told him to tell McGonagall that he didn't actually own any winter clothes," he said solemnly. "And it's just- baby steps. I think it's going to take a lot of baby steps to actually unlearn whatever fucked up shit was said or done to him. But him admitting that he needs to go to the infirmary or putting on a sweater when it's offered to him or letting you carry his bag are all good baby steps. He needs to see that the world isn't going to end if he asks for help- and that nothing bad will happen to him for doing it. He is ours now, so we are going to treat him right. And come hell or high water, we will make him understand," Sirius finished emphatically.

He paused in his pacing to look up at his friends. Remus' eyes held nothing but a promise, a dedication to the mission. James' face was set in a determined expression as he gazed a little sadly over at Harry's sleeping form. Peter gave a firm nod.

Harry had done it. He had survived the full two bloody weeks that it took his leg to heal. On Friday at the end of the following week, after Herbology, Harry and the other boys made their way up to the hospital wing with their fingers crossed. After his check up on Wednesday, Pomfrey had told him, "Just a little bit longer, dear," and at this point Harry's patience had run out. His knee felt fine and he was so bloody bored of sitting in the Great Hall all day because it wasn't worth the effort to go anywhere else. And he felt bad for his friends who had all chosen to suffer along with him.

But mercifully, after a few minutes of humming and wand waving, Pomfrey declared his leg officially healed and then vanished the brace. Harry was ready to jump off the bed and bolt, but Pomfrey put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Ah-ah-ah, young man. Not so fast. You haven't put any weight on that leg in two weeks. It's going to be a little weak and shaky. I'm going to give you something to help the muscles, but then you are going to do a little walking around the wing. Once I am confident that you won't go falling on your face or down the first flight of stairs you come across, then I will release you," she told him matter-of-factly before going off to grab a potion.

After drinking it, Harry felt a pleasant warmth spread down through his leg. Then, he took the matron's offered hand and hopped down off the bed. He wobbled a little once he was standing and it took him a moment to get readjusted to having both legs properly underneath himself. As he took his first tentative, proper step, Harry could feel how stiff his leg was from disuse. But after a few shuffling steps, it started to relax and get used to the motion once again. Pomfrey let go and had him walk to the far end of the room and back, watching his gate intently. Then she conjured a small set of stairs and had him go up and down them. His first step was again, a little unsteady, but his body quickly adjusted and he was able to complete the task with relative ease.

Pomfrey grudgingly admitted herself satisfied, but told Harry in no uncertain terms to be duly careful for a while. For all of their sakes. She also allowed him to take off the wrist brace, but made him keep it with instructions to put it back on if ever his wrist started to ache again. It was quite possible that something like writing for a long period of time or playing quidditch could aggravate the old injury- magic was good, but it wasn't perfect. And he had strict orders to come back and see her if it ever hurt like that for longer than twenty four hours.

After agreeing to all of her demands, Harry was finally released. And he bolted out of the wing, his friends trailed behind him at a more sedate pace with amused expressions on their faces.

"We should do something fun," Sirius stated.

"I'm sorry we're not entertaining enough for you," Remus said dryly.

"Oh, it's not like that," Sirius protested. "Bambi's got his legs back- we should celebrate!"

"How?" James asked, perking up.

"With some fun, leggy activity!" Sirius exclaimed

"I'm not sure I want to find out what a 'leggy activity' is…" Harry said doubtfully.

"Oh, come on Harry- it'll be fun!" Sirius was pulling on his arms as if they were already running late for something.

"Sirius- why are you manhandling Harry?" Lily had come over to lean across the back of the couch that Harry was currently sitting on and that Sirius was currently trying to pull him off of.

"He thinks we ought to celebrate Harry having full use of his legs once again. Wants to do something 'leggy'," James explained.

"I am 'celebrating' by being able to climb a flight of stairs in less than twenty minutes," Harry huffed.

"But that's not fun," Sirius protested.

"Hey- you don't get to tell me what I can and cannot find fun," Harry said indignantly.

"Mate- if you think climbing stairs is fun then we might need to discuss alternative living arrangements for you. Even Remi is not that boring," James told him sincerely.

Lily reached out and smacked his arm. Harry appreciated the gesture. So few people have ever defended his honor.

"Well, we could go ice skating," Lilly offered with a sideways glance at Harry as if hoping she was helping and not just making his situation work. After all, a reasonable suggestion from her was infinitely better than whatever madness Sirius was likely to come up with if left to his own devices and imagination.

"Uh, isn't it a little warm out for ice skating?" Harry pointed out. It was barely dropping below freezing, even at night- there was no way that the lake was already frozen enough to skate on.

"Oh- Flitwick freezes a section of it during the weekends in December so that we can enjoy the frozen lake before it is too cold out to actually enjoy your time out there," Lily clarified. "It's really quite fun."

"Perfect!" Clapped Sirius, grinning.

Harry chewed his lip. "I don't think I've ever been ice skating before…" Harry said warily.

"We'll teach you," James assured him. "It'll be fun. We've been going every year since we started at Hogwarts- it's tradition," he smiled.

"We won't let you fall," Lily added, sensing his hesitancy. "Like James said- we've all been going for years. I'm sure Milli and Haleigh and Gretta will wanna come too."

Harry caved, knowing a losing battle when he saw one. "Okay."

"Great! We'll go get changed and you go get the girls. Meet back here in twenty minutes?" James proposed.

Harry was very thankful for James' spare coat as he stood on the shoreline of the Black Lake. Luckily, it was a sunny Saturday, but the wind was still as biting as ever. Gretta had also kindly lent him a pair of gloves.

James was going around helping everyone transfigure their shoes into ice skates. Looking down at the sharp metal glinting in the sunlight, Harry couldn't help but feel a little anxious. For how often he was accused of being stupid and reckless, Harry considered himself neither. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually enjoy being in danger or scared. And even though the others were treating it like it was nothing, standing on a frozen lake with razor blades strapped to your feet sounded like asking for trouble to Harry. Maybe it was the combination of not having firm footing with the threat of falling into the frigid water (Harry still wasn't a very strong swimmer), but the whole activity just seemed idiotic to him. Just- why risk it? If he wanted to go fast and feel the wind against his face, he could just go ride his broom, thank you.

James made his way over to Harry to help him make his skates- he really was top in Transfiguration in their year. As he waved his wand over Harry's shoes, he looked over at his face and said, "You really are nervous, aren't you?"

"Erh- I, uh, just don't really get the appeal? It just seems kind of cold and slippery and potentially wet," Harry confessed.

"Well," James laughed, "it really shouldn't be wet. You're not going to fall in, if that's what you're worried about. Flitwick charmed the ice meters thick. The giant squid himself couldn't get through it, let alone your scrawny arse. As for the rest of it, well, you're just going to have to give it a go in order to find out, right? Come on," and he pulled Harry to his feet.

It was a little awkward walking with something sticking out of the bottom on his shoes, but it felt surprisingly more stable than Harry had anticipated. James led him over to the lake where most of the others were already out on the ice. Gretta, Lily, and Sirius glided over to join them as James was trying to explain how to skate to Harry.

"...You just kinda have to get a feel for it, but once you find the rhythm, it's easy," he assured.

"Right," Harry said, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

James confidently stepped out onto the ice and turned around to offer Harry a hand. "Come on," he coaxed again. Harry took what was probably a too tight grip of his arm and hesitantly put one foot on the ice, followed by the other. He stood there, a little shakily, but found that it didn't actually feel all that slippery. Once his weight settled, the blades sort of bit into the ice, holding him in place. "Okay, now if you just hold still, I'll pull you around so that you can start to get a feel for it," James told him.

"What?!" Harry panicked for an instant. Standing, so far, was fine, but moving sounded like a bad idea. His entire body locked up as James started skating, navigating himself backwards as he dragged Harry forward. Harry looked around desperately and caught sight of the other's standing around, watching with barely suppressed laughter. "If I end up back in the infirmary I am bringing someone down with me," Harry threatened.

"Awe, Bambi- we promised not to let you fall. It hurts that you don't trust us," Sirius said as he skated up, coming to a sudden stop right next to Harry, sending small ice shavings flecking Harry's trousers. Harry flinched and then glared at him.

James towed Harry around for a while before deciding that it was time to let go. As Harry stood there, alone on the ice with everyone around him just a bit out of reach, Sirius barked out a laugh, saying, "And now you see why I call him 'Bambi'!" As he motioned towards Harry.

And in that moment, the others couldn't deny that the name kind of fit. Harry's limbs were all wobbly and splayed as he tried to maintain his balance, his green eyes wide with uncertainty and hints of fear and determination. He really did resemble a newborn fawn trying to get its bearings for the first time.

After another fifteen minutes or so, Harry was a little more comfortable navigating on the ice and was starting to have a bit of fun. While he didn't think he would ever like ice skating anywhere near as much as being on a broom, he could at least see how one could enjoy themselves in such an activity now. Gliding on the ice was kind of fun.

Lily was skating with him, making sure he didn't fall, when they overheard Sirius say, "Peter, quit acting like a poof and just do it!" They both whipped their heads around and glared at Sirius. He jumped back a little at the matching reproachful looks he was receiving from Lily and Harry, their eerily similar green eyes burning together in terrifying harmony. "Wow! Hey! What did I do?"

"Don't say that!" Lily snipped.

"What? Poof? I'm pretty sure I'm the only one here who can say that," Sirius looked aftonted.

"Not in that context," Lily argued. "Would you let me go around calling people 'filthy mudbloods' just because I was a muggleborn? It's the derogatory context that makes it unacceptable, not the word itself."

"Alright! Sorry?" He still looked a little confused about why he was in trouble.

Their shouting had attracted the others. James skated over before pulling up short.

"Merlin," he said in an astonished tone. "Gretta! It's really happening- we've left them alone for too long together! They're even starting to look alike! The Charms overlord is fusing into one mega-being!"

Gretta came up next to James and took in the twin expressions on Harry and Lily's faces, both sporting those same, blazing eyes as they stared daggers at Sirius before she burst out laughing. Harry blushed and quickly turned away.

"Awe, Harry, there's no need to be embarrassed. Lily has very pretty eyes," James assured him while smiling at Lily.

And that was Harry's cue to tap out of this particular conversation. Out of all the weirdness that being in the past had brought, watching his parents flirt- or rather, watching James unabashedly hit on Lily- was without a doubt the most uncomfortable part. He thought that that might actually be one place where he was normal- he had seen the faces Ron and his brothers made when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were affectionate towards each other, particularly in public. But the fact that they were his age, and not yet his parents, and that James was somehow including him in it just made it all a thousand times worse. It was just the one place where he had to draw the line. So he moved away, throwing a rude gesture towards James, feeling a little bad for leaving Lily behind to fend for herself.

After they finished up with their skating, the boys took them all down to the kitchens to nick some hot chocolate. Harry got to play astonished at his 'first look' at the majesty of the bustling Hogwarts kitchens and her many house elves. He thanked them for the delicious hot chocolate and felt a little guilty as he left many of them in tears. Talking to house elves was just one of those things in the wizarding world that Harry had not quite figured out how to do just yet. Like flooing without falling over or not having to do a double take when the pictures move in the newspaper.

But as they all went back up to the tower to change before dinner, Harry had to admit that this one time, Sirius had been right. It really had been fun.

Harry was running, his wand gripped white-knuckled in his hand as he panted for breath. Despite the fact that he had only been moving straight forward, Harry had the sickening sense that he was running in circles. His head hurt so bad that he could hardly think straight. He couldn't even tell anymore if he was running away from one thing or towards another. A door. He saw the image flash in his mind. No- Death Eaters! He was running from Death Eaters! He was in the Department of Mysteries and running from Death Eaters! Wow- what did it say about him that his dreams were so exhausting that he couldn't even remember what they were about while he was having them? But that flare of lucidity was quickly extinguished as a spell shot past Harry's face and he came to a door. Not the door, but a door. Without any hesitation, he wrenched it open and hurtled through, slamming it behind him as quickly as possible and even throwing a cursory Locking charm at it.

Looking up to examine the new room, Harry froze. He was most definitely not in the Department of Mysteries anymore. Or at the very least, not in any part that he himself had seen before. It was a large, ornate, cavernous room, about half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, though this room was carved out of smooth marble rather than roughly hewn stone. Massive pillars ran down the sides leading up to a regal balcony of sorts that made up a second tier where one could stand to survey the crowd below that flooded the main floor. Large, swooping staircases arched their ways up on either side of the balcony, connecting it to the throng below.

Harry knew immediately that he should not be there. For one, all of the guests- for he assumed that this was a party of some sort- were dressed like royalty. They wore dresses and robes of materials so fine and expensive that Harry felt unqualified to even look at them. Heirloom brooches and dazzling jewelry shimmered throughout the crowd, glinting in the candlelight cast by the massive chandeliers above. And what made Harry stand out even more was the fact that every single person in the room was wearing a mask. Somehow he had found himself crashing some high society masquerade party and Harry didn't know what to do.

The door swung open behind him and Harry darted out of the way as more guests arrived. Even behind the masks, Harry could tell that they looked mildly impressed as they took in the sights of the room- though they held their composure quite well- as they swept forward and were soon swallowed by the mingling masses. Everyone seemed to be chatting pleasantly. A few pointed and appeared to be admiring the entertainment- what Harry thought looked kind of like muggle aerialists handing in blood red silks from the ceiling. No one seemed perturbed by his presence, which Harry found very odd. Surely somebody would have spotted him by now and chased him out. In his joggers, he stood out pretty noticeably from the bougey crowd. But no one paid him any mind as he stood there in the corner of the room, looking on.

Just as Harry was debating whether or not there was any way to get out of there, a hush fell over the crowd and all eyes were turned towards the balcony. A tall figure appeared, wearing long black robes with deep red accents. He was the only person in the room not wearing a mask. And with a dawning sense of horror, Harry realized that he was looking at a middle aged Tom Riddle. Just as he had in Harry's dream a few months ago, his face was still human, but distinctly unnatural looking- like a wax figurine that had gotten too close to a radiator. And even at this great distance, Harry could see the red tinge to his cruel eyes.

"Welcome!" He threw his arms wide, looking down upon those gathered before him. His voice was deeper than Harry's Voldemort's, like it was actually coming from the man's chest rather than hissing through the air itself, but it sounded just as cold. "I hope everyone may find something to their liking here this evening- be it the food, the entertainment, or the conversation. As you all know, our way of life has become threatened by the fools in power who are misled by their mistaken ideals, so we must savor these moments all the more as they are likely to become precious few without proper intervention. I implore you to enjoy it while it lasts. The very wizarding race is under threat, along with it our culture and our values. So tonight, let us rejoice and celebrate what is. And, if you feel compelled, tomorrow, you may join me in the fight for what will be."

Harry's stomach turned. This was some sort of sick, Death Eater recruitment event. And there were a lot of people here. Looking around wildly, trying to comprehend just what was happening, Harry's eyes landed on the 'aerialists' once again. But upon closer inspection, they were most definitely not acrobats. If Harry had to guess, he would assume they were muggles. They were dangling from the ceiling, tied up in the red silks, faces contorted with terror, tears dripping down their foreheads and running into their hair. Someone must have put a silencing spell on them because Harry could now see some of their mouths moving, begging for help, screaming for somebody to let them go, pleading desperately.

"As you know," Riddle continued, "the only true threat to the wizarding race is contamination by the muddy, muggle filth. Please join me in demonstrating to these animals precisely why we are the superior race."

He drew his wand and held it dramatically aloft as many in the crowd below did the same before loudly hissing out, "Crucio!" and similar cries echoed around the hall.

And then Harry's blood was set on fire. It burned through his veins, scorching his body from the inside out. Eating away at every muscle and tendon until it reached the surface just to melt his skin. He was thrashing, he couldn't take it, he needed to get away but the pain was everywhere. He could not escape it, it was consuming him. Every last thought burned away, every last shred of control.

Then, just as suddenly, somebody put it out. He was doused in a cool water that quenched the burning flames that had invaded his body and left him soaking wet and shivering and twitching.

It was actually the thud that woke Remus. The sound of a body hitting the floor. But the next instant everyone was awoken by the ear splitting scream that echoed throughout the dormitory. Four boys scrambled out of bed, grasping for their wands as the tortured screams continued. James was the first one to get ahold of his wand and cast a hasty lumos to illuminate the scene. The other boys stood ready for some kind of attack but were met with something perhaps more terrifying than an intruder. Harry was on the ground next to his bed, white as a ghost, trembling and writhing around, twisted up in his sheets, screaming like it was his dying breath.

They all rushed forward. "Harry!" James and Sirius were shouting as James tried to shake him awake, but it wasn't working. Harry just continued to scream and thrash.

"What's wrong with him?" Peter pleaded.

"It's like that nightmare- only so much worse." Remus was also looking pale as he spoke in a quiet, horrified voice.

"We have to wake him up!" James cried, still valiantly trying to rouse Harry.

"Aguamenti!" Peter shouted and James jumped back as a jet of cold water shot at Harry and he suddenly stilled. He was still breathing hard and trembling, but at least he was no longer flailing and screaming. And then Harry's eyes snapped open and he shoved himself away from the others until his back connected with the edge of his bed.

"Woe- It's okay, Harry. You're awake. We're just in the dorm. It was just a dream. You're okay," James said as calmly as he could manage, though he didn't know how true the words actually were. Harry was shaking so badly that James could hear his teeth rattling from where he hovered nearby. He was looking around frantically with wide, unfocused eyes. "Shit. His glasses. Where are his glasses?" Remus went around and found them on Harry's desk and handed the frames over to James who cautiously reached out and bumped them into the back of Harry's hand which had a deathgrip around his legs. "Here you go. Go on, put on your glasses. You'll feel better once you can see. It's okay." Very slowly Harry loosened his grip and fumble with the offered frames for a minute before finally managing to slip them on. Remus had also gone around to light the few lamps they had in order to spread a little more light around the room. Not only did this practically help them all see, but it helped to lift some of the eerie atmosphere cast by the faint wandlight.

The brightness also revealed just how pale Harry was, and Sirius was not looking much better. Harry was huddled against the bottom of his bed, legs still tangled in his sheets, shaking, and looking like he just might throw up at any second.

"There. Is that better? You see, we're just in the dorms. Are you okay?" James tried to keep his voice as pacifying as possible.

It took a long moment for any sort of response to come from Harry, but once his eyes swept the room a few times and then took in all of their crowded and concerned faces, he got out, "Y-yeah." His voice was raspy, so he tried to clear his throat, but that only led to a minor coughing fit which just further aggravated his already abused throat. He brought a trembling hand up to cover his mouth as he coughed, tucking his head down between his knees in order to avoid spewing at the others. When the fit passed, he raised his head back up with a confused expression and asked in a hoarse voice, "Uh, why am I wet?" Harry would've almost believed that he had pissed himself if the water hadn't been cold and all over his chest.

The boys would have laughed if the events that led to his currently soppy state hadn't been so terrifying. "You wouldn't wake up, so we had to resort to more, uh, drastic measures," James explained.

"Oh," Harry said quietly. "Thanks then, I guess."

"Are you sure you're okay?" James pressed, taking in Harry's still twitching muscles and the lines of pain that he couldn't quite keep off of his face. "That seemed- bad," was all he could think to say.

"That- that looked like the Cruciatus curse…" Sirius said in a horrified whisper.

All heads turned towards Sirius, eyes blown wide in alarm, before snapping back towards Harry just in the nick of time to catch his grim expression before he hid his face once again. James wasn't able to suppress his gasp. Harry didn't bother trying to deny it. Watching or experiencing the Cruciatus curse was not something you were ever likely to forget, and it sounded like Sirius had at least some familiarity with it, so there was no use in arguing. Plus, Harry didn't think he could come up with any excuse at the moment, let alone a believable one. His entire body throbbed and his head was pounding. It once again felt like someone had put his brain in a blender and set it on puree before taking a railroad spike and slowly trying to drive it into his forehead.

"I'll be okay," he told them, but at the same time, couldn't repress the shiver that wracked his body.

None of the boys looked convinced by that, but James said, "Well, let's at least get you free," motioning towards the sheets still wrapped around Harry. They were caught on something in the bed, so James stood up and leaned over to yank them free from where they were snagged around the far bedpost. But when he pushed his way through the hangings, the world went oddly quiet. He pulled the sheet free with a deep frown.

As James reemerged from behind the bed hangings and went to help untangle Harry's feet, he asked in a slightly dangerous tone, "Harry- why is there a silencing spell on your bed?"

The others look horrified.

Harry flushed. With his face turned toward the floor he mumbled, "Didn't wanna wake you."

"You didn't w-" James started, in disbelief.

But Remus cut him off. "Just how often do you have these nightmares?" He asked in a surprisingly stern tone.

"Never!" Harry insisted, but at the incredulous looks he received, he amended, "At least, they are never this bad- I promise."

"And yet somehow I don't find that the least bit reassuring," Sirius said darly.

"Look- you guys don't want me waking you up every night with my-"

"Every night?!" James looked like he was going to be sick.

Shit. He hadn't meant to admit that. "It's a figure of speech!" He cried, almost like a desperate plea.

"No, it's not," Remus said calmly. Harry could see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he pieced the evidence together for Harry's conviction. "That's why you're always the first one up. Even when I wake up before 6 sometimes, you are usually up and showered. How much do you actually sleep?" The question was spoken softly. There was no accusation in his voice, just sad acceptance.

"Enough," was all Harry could say. "You guys should go back to bed. I'll be fine."

"Like hell we will!" Sirius snapped before promptly taking a seat next to James on the floor. "We are sorting this shit out right now." Remus and Peter quickly followed suit.

"And what exactly is there to sort out?" Harry asked, a little bewildered. It had to be like 1am, what could possibly not be able to wait until morning at least?

"Hmm, well, let's see," Sirius began, tapping his finger on his chin in mock contemplation. "There's the nightmares, the Silencing spell, your apparent lack of sleep, oh, and the fact that I think we all still have half a mind to drag you to the hospital wing whether you like it or not with how badly you're still shaking!"

"It's cold!" Harry bit out reflexively as he pulled his arms a little tighter around himself.

"May I?" James asked, brandishing his wand and gesturing at Harry's wet clothes. Harry gave him a slight nod and sighed a little as the warm air of the Drying charm hit him. Though, he was also a little sad to lose his excuse for the trembling because he knew that the cold wasn't the only reason for it. Even in your dreams, Voldemort's crucio hurt like a bitch.

Sirius gave him a challenging look when Harry's shaking lessened, but did not stop once he was dry. Harry sighed, "There really isn't anything she could do to help with this," he insisted tiredly. "For one, it was just a dream, and- well- that's part of the reason it is 'unforgivable'. Even after the spell stops, there isn't anything that can be done to help. There is no counter spell or healing magic that works on them." Harry gave a small shrug.

Sirius swallowed thickly, not caring for Harry's casual tone nor the fact that he seemed to know an uncomfortable amount about Unforgivable curses.

"And as for my 'apparent lack of sleep' as you so nicely put it, it's not like I walk around like a zombie all day. I'm a very high functioning insomniac, thank you very much," Harry said with a sniff.

"'High functioning insomniac' shouldn't be the goal," Remus pointed out.

"Well, I got to bed every night with the best of intentions." Just the slightest hint of a smile quirked Harry's lips.

"Be that as it may, you can't just not sleep for the rest of your life. Sooner or later it will catch up with you." And Remus was speaking from well-earned experience. After a slight pause, he added, "I'm guessing you don't wanna tell us what you were dreaming about?"

"No," Harry said resolutely.

"Okay. But I'm just saying that talking about it might be the most helpful thing." Remus put his hands up as if in surrender. "If it's about what happened this year, or something you're afraid of, or old memories coming back, talking through it will just help you process, which is usually what dreams are trying to do too."

Damn. Things just sounded so reasonable when Remus said them. Kind of like how Lily could make you feel illogical, Remus could make you feel completely unreasonable. Harry might have almost been tempted to cave to his argument if the true nature of his dream had been on that list. But somehow he didn't think a glimpse at Tommy's Death Eater recruitment video was his subconscious trying to tell him something. He was well aware that Voldemort was a sick bastard. As for his other nightmares… he may have had a slight point. But that didn't mean that Harry wanted to talk about it.

Harry found himself muttering, "Yeah, well, maybe I don't wanna process it. What if I don't want to remember?"

"Ignoring something doesn't make it go away," Remus reminded him sadly. Harry didn't have a response to that, but Remus didn't push him. Tonight was definitely not the night for that. For now, he was satisfied with just planting seeds.

"Now, as for this Silencing spell nonsense- that's going to need to stop," Sirius said as if it were a closed matter already. Harry just looked uncomfortable.

Remus pointed out, "You know James is more than willing to just confiscate your hangings and Pads would go so far as to start sleeping in your bed with you in order to guarantee you don't try something like that again." And judging by the looks on both boys' faces, they were more than willing to carry out each threat.

But Harry still did not agree. Even back home, his friends didn't really know how bad his nightmares were. He learned long ago to sleep with a Silencing spell up and he only ever woke people up when they were bad enough- like tonight- that the spell either broke or he pulled down or got out from under the hangings, which was rare. Honestly, the Dursleys were probably the only people on earth who really knew. But when Harry woke them up all he got was a slap in the face for his trouble. Yes, he liked the boys and was coming to trust them quite a bit. Had even shown them his scars. But his dreams were somehow even more personal. When Harry was asleep, he was truly helpless and completely defenseless and that was terrifying. Having someone see him so vulnerable, and so completely incapable and pitiful would be a waking nightmare for him.

Sensing Harry's resistance, Sirius tried another approach. "Harry- it's not safe if this is how bad your nightmares are. I don't wanna know what would have happened if you'd been asleep much longer. You're still twitching."

And James added another point. "We spent years figuring out how to become animagi just so that we could run around with Moony on the full moon. You're not the only one in this dorm that thinks sleep is for the weak. Losing a couple of hours of shut eye every now and then is worth it to help a friend."

Harry sighed warily, cradling his aching head in his hands. "You're not going to just let this go, are you?"

"No," their voices echoed on another.

Gritting his teeth, Harry ground out, "Fine," before hesitantly adding, "I, uh, should also probably warn you- some people have told me that I talk in my sleep and- well, just, try not to read into it? I've heard that what I say doesn't make a lot of sense. And just- I'm sorry." Even Harry wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for, but he knew that the others didn't quite understand what they were asking for.

And that was Harry's second slipup of the night. He had accidentally admitted that he did remember some things. They most certainly were not the 'people' who told Harry that he talked in his sleep and they highly doubted he was referring to Madam Pomfrey. To his dormmates, this just served as confirmation of their fears that Harry's dreams really were his memories coming back of some horrific past that his mind had spent all term trying desperately to suppress. And that realization broke their hearts all over again.

James just reached out and squeezed Harry's arm gently before standing up to snag Sirius' old sweater off of Harry's desk chair and tossing it at the trembling boy on the ground. Harry swiftly pulled it on and snuggled into its soft warmth. It really was about three sizes too big for him and just about swallowed him whole, but that just made all the cozier.

"Thanks," Harry said. "And I think that covers all of your topics, Sirius. Now, you lot should go back to sleep." They all noted Harry's use of 'you lot' rather than 'we'.

"It's Saturday night- who needs sleep? We can do that tomorrow," Sirius brushed off.

And they all really did stay up all night with Harry. The others made sure to do nothing too taxing either physically, mentally, or emotionally. They played twenty questions, built a rather impressive house of cards- it was really more like a castle than a house- with the entire Ketchum deck, and even made an honest-to-Merlin blanket and pillow fort in the middle of the room, dragging the desks and chairs around to hold up the ceiling and walls. It was perfect. And probably one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for Harry.

As a result of their long night, there wasn't a lot of life in the 6th year Gryffindor boys dormitory on Sunday. Harry's tremors had thankfully subsided throughout the night, but he still looked unhealthily pale. He really didn't want to go down and face the rest of the school in the Great Hall, so the guys offered to just bring him back some food as they headed out to breakfast.

Down in the Great Hall, Harry's absence was quickly noticed.

"Where's Harry?" Lily asked in a worried voice, taking in the pinched faces of all of the boys.

"He's just having a lie in," James assured her, not wanting her to get all worked up like she had when the boys had had their big fight a few weeks ago. "It was- kind of a rough night," he admitted.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she frowned slightly, concern in her eyes. "Anything I can do to help?"

James' eyes sparked. Never once, in all the years they'd known each other, had Lily Evans ever offered to help him. Or to voluntarily speak to him or spend more time in his presence. Even if it was probably more an offer to help Harry, it still felt like a victory. "Well, I'm not sure how much there is that can be 'done'. We- uh, we think his memory might be starting to come back and it's just, not all puffskeins and unicorns, you know? That maybe there was a reason it was all repressed for so long?" It was not that James wanted to go dragging Harry's business out in the open or spreading it around, but he just couldn't let this opportunity pass. And he thought that having more members on team 'help Harry understand that some of how he thinks and acts is a little fucked up and then help him address it' could only be a good thing, right? After all, Lily had offered to help. "The best way to help, honestly, is probably just to keep an eye on him. I'm sure you've noticed that he's got just a bit of a pig-headed, self-destructive streak going sometimes and I think that that unfortunately seems to stem from a pretty shit sense of self-worth. You know, he didn't own a jacket or sweater or anything, but rather than just tell somebody that he was freezing, he just cast Warming charms until he couldn't feel his hands anymore. If you could keep an eye out for shit like that. We're all on a mission to help him nip that kind of stuff in the bud."

Lily looked some odd combination of taken aback, impressed, disbelieving, and very serious. But she nodded all the same, "Okay, for sure."

James was thrilled about his new team member.

The following week, Harry felt like shite. Who knows if it was his lack of proper winter attire at the match on Saturday or maybe his lack of sleep catching up with him. Or his body just deciding to do old Voldy a solid and save him the trouble of finally doing Harry in. Whatever the cause, Harry was absolutely miserable. It had started on Sunday with what he honestly thought was nothing more than some lingering effects from his dream or vision or whatever it was. Harry had felt extra tired and achy and maybe he had a little tickle in the back of his throat that he just couldn't seem to clear no matter how many subtle coughs he gave or how much water he drank. When he woke up on Monday, he couldn't really deny that his throat hurt and that it was likely not still due to his screaming on Saturday night, but it was not the end of days. By Tuesday, despite Sirius' warm sweater, he just couldn't shake the chill that Harry knew in the back of his mind meant that he had a fever. Nor could he suppress the coughs that tore at his throat any more.

All of this is why, come Wednesday, Harry had made a deal with himself that he would go to Madam Pomfrey if he wasn't better by the weekend. He crossed his fingers that maybe it would just magically clear up as he dragged himself through another day of classes. The real nail in the coffin for his hard deadline to seek help came when on the way down to breakfast that morning, Harry found that he was struggling to catch his breath through all of the congestion. I mean, who runs out of breath going down stairs? Remus threw him a very concerned look as they reached the entrance hall as Harry's breaths wheezed in his chest.

"Are you sure you don't want to see Madam Pomfrey, mate?" He asked a little more emphatically than the last time. The others had been trying to casually convince him to go to the hospital wing since Monday.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "I just-" he broke off to let out a wet cough, "finally got away from her. And I don't wanna miss any class- it's exams. If I'm not feeling better by the weekend, then I'll go, okay?" And he pushed past the group and into the Great Hall. He sat with an indignant (and stuffy) huff, but did not make any move to eat. Honestly, just the smell of bangers wafting down the table was turning Harry's stomach, so he sipped a bit of juice in the hopes that sending a little something down would convince nothing to come up. As the others settled around him, they did not look very convinced.

It was all Harry could do during Charms to fake his enthusiasm for the review they were doing that day. He knew his wand work was lazy and his spells not as powerful as normal, but it was taking the vast majority of his energy in order to remain standing as he shivered his way through the motions. He couldn't have told you a single word Lily had said to him over the whole class period he was so focused on keeping himself together. His skull felt like it was filled with over cooked porridge by the end of the lesson and Harry opted to go lay down in lieu of lunch.

But once back in the dormitory though, Harry knew that if he actually got into bed, there was no way he would have the willpower to get up again. So instead, he sat on the uncomfortable floor and played with Pyrrhus. The little bird seemed to understand that he didn't feel very well and kept his hoots low as he snuggled into Harry's outstretched hands.

It was a good thing Harry left the dorm over twenty minutes before Defense because with his slow pace and wandering thoughts he ended up using every second of it to make his way down to the classroom to meet up with his fellow Gryffindors. The boys looked a little disappointed when he joined them. Harry caught the frown on Lily's lips too when she glanced over at him. His face had taken on that plaid, yet flushed quality that spoke to an unhealthy fever.

Despite the fact that all he wanted to do was put his head down on his desk and sleep, he knew that would result in a one-way ticket to the hospital wing and Harry refused to admit defeat. Fortunately, this class was one of Fortin's rare lectures on… Well, Harry only had to look like he was listening and hadn't spared the extra energy required to engage his ears in order to actually listen or to make his brain retain such information. Harry could feel beads of sweat dripping down his back as Fortin droned on and he couldn't decide if Sirius' jumper was stifling him or nowhere near warm enough. But he just needed to reach the end of the lesson to have officially survived the day. And he did. Barely.

On the way back up to Gryffindor tower, Harry had to suddenly stop walking until a coughing fit passed and he had regained proper control over his lungs. When he had gathered himself back together, he looked up to see many sets of worried eyes on him.

"I'm fine," he got out a little breathlessly and pushed on.

Once in the common room, Harry slumped down at the first study table he came to and pulled up his bag. As he was fishing around in it for something, James came up next to him and said, tentatively, "Hey, mate- why don't you head up to bed. We'll come get you for dinner, alright?"

Harry started to shake his head, but stopped abruptly when that just made him dizzy. "No," he said obstinately, "This essay is due tomorrow and I just wanna get it done so I can relax later." James just sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. The others settled around the table to join him. If Harry's brain were fully functioning, he may have found this odd as he had never once seen one of his dormmates do a single bit of homework during what they considered their 'free period' between classes and dinner before. But there was no way that they were going to leave Harry alone right then to run off to their typical shenanigans.

When dinnertime rolled around, Harry convinced them that he wasn't hungry. He was on his last bit of essay and just wanted to crawl into bed the moment it was finished. Eventually, they relented, promising to bring him back something because he should really try and eat, especially since he had skipped lunch too. Reluctantly, the other four boys left Harry to the last of his work, just praying that he would be in bed by the time they returned.

Their prayers were half answered. When they climbed back through the portrait hole after a quick meal, they found Harry passed out on his essay at the study table.

"Well, at least he's finally sleeping," Remus said mildly. James and Peter chuckled as Sirius stepped forward to wake Harry up and bustle him off to a proper bed.

"Come on Bambi- time for bed," he said in a lilting voice. He reached out a hand to shake Harry awake, but recoiled it almost instantly after making contact. "Shit! Guys- he's burning up!" The others stepped closer in concern as Sirius recomposed himself and took a firmer hold of Harry's scorching arms- he could feel the radiating heat even through the layers of fabric. "Come on Harry," he spoke softly. "You've officially lost your vote in whether you're going to the hospital wing." He gave Harry a bit of a shake to rouse him, but Harry just turned his head slightly and mumbled something.

They couldn't catch exactly what he was saying, but it didn't seem to make very much sense. "...unia… a minute… don't… please…" his voice sounded so pitiful, it was heart wrenching.

Sirius pulled Harry up into a sitting position hoping that would do the trick to wake him, but his head just lulled. When Sirius cupped Harry's face to get a better look, they could see his eyes were completely rolled back in his head. Without any further thought, Sirius scooped the smaller boy up in his arms and rose, declaring, "Hospital wing. Now." There was a distinct note of panic in his eyes.

Remus turned to Peter and bit out, "Go tell Madam Pomfrey we're coming." And with a small squeak, the stocky boy turned and ran ahead.

The rest followed close behind. Remus held open the portrait for Sirius to climb through with Harry. James tossed the food they had brought back on the table before taking off after them. They jogged down the corridors, Remus ensuring a clear path for them. Sirius felt bad for jostling the sick boy as they ran, but given the waves of heat he could feel pouring off of him, even through both of their robes, he determined that speed took precedence over comfort at the present moment. Fortunately, Sirius' well muscled frame was easily able to accommodate Harry's slight weight, even when he was truly unconscious and absolutely no help. The boy really was too light, even for his small stature, but they were just going to have to circle back to that one as a secondary concern after they sorted out this first one that was literally cooking him like a roast chicken.

They finally made it to the hospital wing to find Madam Pomfrey waiting for them.

"Put him here, dear," she indicated a bed near the doors. Sirius gently laid Harry down and took a tentative step backwards, unsure what to do now. "Harry? Harry, can you hear me?" The boy on the bed gave no response. She began casting spells over Harry with her wand while her other hand was held out behind her summoning potions and supplies. It would have been appreciated as quite an impressive feat if the boys had not been solely focused on Harry. Pomfrey quickly spelled some Fever Reducer into Harry before stripping his robes and setting some damp cloths around his armpits, knees, and forehead. "How long has he been ill?" She asked the boys in a short, but not altogether unkind voice. She had just seen the boy on Friday, so it couldn't possibly have been that long.

"Uh- probably since Sunday?" James guessed. Harry just kind of, hadn't bounced back after Saturday night.

"And what were his symptoms?" She continued while not stopping her task.

"Well, the fever, obviously, and he got a cough yesterday that started to sound pretty nasty today," James told her.

"And he was wheezing climbing the stairs this morning and didn't eat all day," Remus added.

"And the damn kid was still trying to do his homework. We found him passed out at the study table." Sirius shook his head, eyes burning with anger, but it was unclear exactly where it was meant to be directed.

"Well, it's a good thing that you did and brought him in. His fever was getting dangerously high. How it got so bad so fast…" She shook her head too. This boy must have had the worst luck on the planet. Pomfrey had seen Harry more in one term than she did most students in their entire Hogwarts careers. "But don't worry, I'll take proper care of him. He will most likely be out for the rest of night, so you'd best be heading back to your common room now," she dismissed them, but then added, "Thank you for looking after him- though, Mr. Black, I do hope you won't take offense that I never wish to see you carry him into my infirmary ever again."

Sirius gave her a weak smile. "We'll do our best to avoid it."

Despite his best efforts, Harry ended up missing his Potions and Transfiguration exams on Thursday. McGonagall had stopped by to check on him after Madam Pomfrey had informed her of what had happened. She looked down with sad eyes at his small form asleep on the hospital bed.

"Poppy, I just don't know what to do with him. What can I do? I don't think my heart can take much more of this."

"Yes, well, Harry seems to be having that effect on people. He's giving us all a workout. And believe me, if I knew the answer to your question I would have acted long ago. Unfortunately at this point I've probably spent more time with him than you have."

They both just stood there, watching Harry's chest slowly rise and fall, taking a small comfort in the movement.

"Though, if I know this young man like I think I do, one of his top concerns when he wakes up will be his exams. Followed, of course, by how soon he'll get out of here. His friends told me he passed out attempting to complete his homework for tomorrow. Perhaps as his Head of House you can take that one worry off his plate," Pomfrey suggested.

"Of course," McGonagall jumped at the opportunity to do something. She had never felt quite so helpless before as a Head of House, but this scarred boy that came from nowhere seemed determined to test her mettle.

Harry awoke around midday on Thursday groggy and confused and still a little out of it. It took him a couple of minutes to realize where he was before letting out a pitiful groan and squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn't quite sure what had happened to land him here this time, but despite his hazy memory, he was pretty sure he had not come of his own volition.

"It's good to see you awake, Harry. You gave us quite a scare yesterday." Yesterday? How long had he been out? If the bright sunlight streaming through the windows was any indication, it was well into the next day by now.

"What happened?" He slurred. Ugh- his mouth and head felt like they had been stuffed with cotton.

"You were very ill. Your friends found you unconscious in your common room last night and brought you in."

Oh goody. Just what he needed. There was no way they were gonna let this one go… Harry was screwed. He'd be lucky if Sirius didn't start cutting up his food to ensure he wouldn't somehow choke on it. Merlin help him.

"Now, pray tell, why you waited until you passed out instead of just coming to see me?" Pomfrey had her hands on her hips in true disapproving-mother-hen mode.

"Wasn't that bad… Just saw you…" Harry attempted to explain.

"Well, I shudder to think what you consider 'bad' if imminent brain damage from a skyrocketing fever does not qualify," she said fiercely, but then added more softly, "And Harry, I would rather see you every day and send you off healthy than have anyone experience what they did last night. You could have suffered lasting injury, your friends were terrified, and despite the fact that this is my job, I hate to see you like this." She wanted to go on, to make him finally understand, but Pomfrey could already see that she was losing him. Harry's eyes were blinking sluggishly as he sank deeper into the pillows behind him. And then he was out once again.

His Gryffindor friends came to visit him later that night when he was marginally more coherent. Harry was sitting up in bed when they came bursting through the doors, Lily in the lead.

She stormed right up to his side and whacked him on the shoulder. "Don't do that to me!" She yelled at him.

"What?" Harry asked, confused and a little afraid of the redhead's looming tirade.

"They'd said you'd died again!" She shrieked.

Harry looked past her at the others entering the wing with a bewildered expression.

"Apparently when people see you carrying someone's lifeless body around they go jumping to conclusions." The way Sirius said 'jumping to conclusions' made it sound like the most far-fetched, ludicrous thing anyone had ever heard of.

"Please don't tell me that they think you murdered me again," Harry said tonelessly.

"Ah, but then I must either not answer you or make a lier out of myself. And despite my murder wrap, I refuse to commit purgery," Sirius said firmly.

Harry buried his head in his hands. "When I die, I'll be sure to notify everyone personally- until then, just assume I am alive and well." At the incredulous looks he received, Harry amended, "Okay, well, maybe not well, but erh- maybe just check the infirmary first next time before 'jumping to conclusions'," Harry mocked the way Sirius had said it. Then he coughed harshly.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, fussing slightly at the edge of Harry's bed, his own inner mother hen rearing her head for a moment.

"Better," Harry said as he absentmindedly rubbed at his chest. That was really the worst part- Pomfrey had managed to knock out his fever, but the congestion and tightness still lingered in his chest.

"Slughorn almost didn't believe us this morning that you were in the infirmary again when you didn't show up for class," Milli smirked at him. "Thought you were trying to ditch the exam or something. He actually went and floo called Madam Pomfrey to verify that you were actually sick and not just skiving off. It was hilarious- we could actually hear her shouting at him through the office door and when he came back out he was all flustered." There were many amused looks in the group as she recounted the tale.

"Oh, shit," Harry cursed. "I totally forgot about exams!" He looked a little panicked and his chest tightened just another notch.

"Relax, Bambi," Sirius held his hands up as if to keep Harry's anxiety physically at bay. "McGonagall told us to tell you that she's arranging it with all of your professors to make them up after the break. Wanted you to 'focus on taking care of yourself' rather than worry about exams which I think is a first, coming from her. Or any professor, for that matter."

Harry relaxed a little at that. Not that he wanted to have exams hanging over him all break, but at least he didn't need to worry about it right then. Maybe if some of the professors were also staying around for the holidays he could convince them to let him make them up early, over break. Either way, he could deal with it later.

Come Friday, Harry was so bored. He was recovered enough to be awake all day, but he hadn't even thought to ask his friends to bring him his book bag the night before, so he had literally nothing to do. So he was climbing the walls and driving Madam Pomfrey crazy. Thankfully, Remus, Peter, James, and Sirius came to visit him right after classes ended for them during their off period in the afternoon.

"Finally!" Pomfrey cried as they entered the wing. The boys all jumped- they had never been greeted like that by the matron. No staff member had ever been happy to see them- unless you count Filch's sick satisfaction when they arrived for detentions. It kind of went against their hard earned reputation. "You lot deal with him. Keep him in bed and don't get him too worked up. Shout if you need anything." And she disappeared into the back office.

"Wow," Sirius whistled, looking astonished. "I don't think I've ever seen somebody get under her skin like you do. Quite a talent, my dear Harry, quite a talent."

Harry rolled his eyes and screwed up his face in an angry expression. "Well, if she wouldn't keep me trapped here, then we wouldn't have a problem. She wouldn't even let me go get a book or something!" Harry ranted. "'I will not have you collapsing in the hallways!'" He said in his uncanny Pomfrey impression.

"Well, Harry, she does kind of have a point on that one…" James started.

"No she doesn't. I'm fine," Harry said emphatically.

"You should really listen to her…" Remus tried.

"Shouldn't I be the one to determine how I feel? And I feel fine. Certainly well enough to walk to the bloody bathroom and back without supervision," he huffed.

Sirius' face turned angry. "We found you unconscious in the common room. Your judgment of such things has been proven compromised and you have permanently lost your vote about any of this. The only say you will have going forward is if you would like to walk yourself to the infirmary or if I will have to carry you and you will leave when Pomfrey says you are good and ready."

Harry stared, wide-eyed at Sirius. Where had that come from?

Sirius let out a long breath and seemed to deflate a bit. "It's just- you can't do anything halfway, can you Bambi? You have to go and give us a heart attack every time."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I really didn't think I was that ill."

"And that's the problem! You didn't realize that you were sick enough to warrant a trip to the hospital wing until it was too late. You just- lack that internal mechanism or something. And that's why I am officially instating an external mechanism for you. If we say you go, you go. No fuss or arguing- we just, get it taken care of."

It was an interesting proposition. Of course, Harry's knee jerk reaction was to dismiss it outright- it was ridiculous and he was not a child. But somewhere in the back of his mind Harry felt a sort of relief at the idea of not having to worry about something anymore- to have somebody else make the decisions. It felt like kind of a nice idea for some reason. So Harry bit his tongue and just didn't say anything to Sirius. Instead, he turned to the others and asked, "Can I at least borrow a book or something for now?"

"Sure," Remus offered, "do you want Potions or Transfiguration?" He needed the rest of them still to study.

"Do you know if either McGonagall or Slughorn are planning to stay in the castle over the break?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm not sure which professors are staying back this year- why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that if they were staying over then maybe I could make up my exams early and get them out of the way," Harry explained.

Sirius gasped. "You want to take exams over break. Prongs- get Pomfrey. I think his fever is back!"

"Hah hah. I'd just rather get them over with than be stressing about them until next term."

"Why would you want to stay behind in the castle anyway?" Peter asked. "It's so boring when nobody's here."

"Well, where else would I go? I'm not about to spend my holidays camping in the Forbidden Forest because it just feels like home," Harry said with bitter sarcasm. "I don't mind staying. It might be kind of nice to explore without anyone around. I'm guessing you guys are all going home for the break?"

Remus nodded. Peter said a little wistfully, "Yeah, Christmas is my mum's favorite holiday. She would be heartbroken if I didn't come home and she had to spend it alone."

"You should come to my house," James said offhandedly.

"What?" Harry's voice squeaked a little. His heart rate picked up and he wasn't quite sure he'd heard James right.

"You should just come spend the break with us," he repeated casually. "Really, Pads already lives with us, so what's one more. If my parents allowed his mangey arse in the house, I'm sure they won't mind you. They'll probably like you better than either of us by the end of it."

"Yeah!" Sirius said excitedly. "Oh, Bambi, it'll be great! The Potters really do stuff right. You'll love it. It'll be so much fun!" He was bouncing up and down, almost begging Harry to agree.

"Erh- I really don't want to impose on your family holiday…" Harry said uncomfortably. Family holiday… He would be staying with his grandparents. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Oh, it's really not a big deal. My folks really won't mind, but if it will make you feel better, I can write to them for official permission."

"Okay…" Harry tentatively agreed. "But only if they agree. And no strong-arming them or anything!"

"Yes!" Sirius celebrated. "Look at you go, Prongs. Bringing unexpected good news- we might not even need the official distraction…" he said evasively with a casual shrug.

"What distraction?" Harry asked warily. Whatever it is, just please don't let it explode…

"Well, we had a feeling that you were going to be all mopey about being cooped in the hospital wing again-"

"Hey- I'm not 'mopey'!" Harry protested.

But Sirius pressed on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "So, we wanted to give you a little something to look forward to. Call it, a bit of inspiration to motivate your healing journey."

"Get on with it already or I might fall asleep before you get to your point," Harry teased.

Sirius leaned in conspiratorially, looking around to make sure there were no evesdroppers nearby or a sharp-eared matron. "We were wondering if you might be interested in becoming an animagus?" He wiggled his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry, for his part, looked dumbfounded. Had Sirius really just said that? An animagus? "Really?" Harry couldn't quite keep the slightly desperate hope out of his voice.

"Really. We were thinking it would be a good use of your sick time to have your first lesson." Harry almost held his breath as he nodded. "Good answer." And Sirius' face donned a wicked grin. "Now first, a bit of history." He turned around and snatched James' glasses right off his face before precariously perching them on the very end of his nose. After clearing his throat dramatically, he began in a very proper voice, as if he were giving a formal lecture, "An animagus is a witch or wizard who can transform into an animal form at will. The term 'animagus' can be used to refer to both the magical person with such a skill or the animal form itself. I, Sirius Black, am an animagus, but my animagus is Padfoot the dog. It is unknown if every witch or wizard has an animagus form as the process to discover it and learning to control the shift are believed to be very difficult magic and very time consuming. It is for these reasons that the majority of witches and wizards do not even attempt to become animagi or rather, attempt to realize their animagus form. Some who start the journey never finish it, finding the process no longer worth it at some point along the way. However, I think those people are just going about it all wrong- but we will get to that later. A few common misconceptions about the animagus form is that the witch or wizard gets to choose what it is or that it is completely random. This is not the case. Rather, animagi forms reveal our inner truths. It is not your spirit animal- it does not reflect who you are. It reflects what you wish to be."

Sirius paused here, dropping his formal posture and allowing James to grab his glasses back. "Now, onto the matter of actually becoming an animagus. And Harry- you ought to count yourself very lucky to be coming in this late in the game. It took us years to figure out what I'm about to tell you, so be grateful that we are merciful and forthcoming with this information instead of just kicking you to the library like we had to suffer through. There is, of course, a Ministry approved and published process for becoming an animagus- some nonsense about chewing on leaves and catching lightning in a bottle and two years later, if you're lucky, you're suddenly an animagus. But after a lot of research, we determined that it would be absolutely impossible to do that while in school, let alone without anyone finding out about it. So, we did a little more digging. After all, there have been legends of animagi dating back as far as the written record- long before the alleged "process" was discovered. We looked into how the ancients did it and decided to follow their process as best we could. We call it 'the natural way'. The way God intended. Getting in touch with your roots and what not. The theory is that every witch or wizard has an inner animal. It is that part of you that no one sees. It represents everything that you wish you were and long to be but just aren't in your normal, everyday life. It is kind of like asking yourself what you want most in the world. Our method takes a lot of soul searching and meditation and self reflection to get in touch with your inner animal so that you can coax it out naturally rather than force it out like with the modern day process. Once you find it, it is like having two heartbeats instead of one. By focusing on your second heartbeat and letting it take over, you transform into your inner animal- your animagus form," Sirius finished with a magical wiggling of his fingers.

"So now, really, all you have to ask yourself is what, deep down, do you really wish you could be?" Sirius leaned forward as if he expected an actual answer right then. As if he hadn't just said that it took a crap ton of 'meditation' and 'soul searching' and whatnot.

"Uhh…" Harry said intelligently.

"Lay off Pads- you're practically drooling on him," James said, whacking Sirius in the shoulder. "And you know just how personal a question that is," he admonished and Sirius actually flushed faintly.

"So I take it that's not something I should run around asking every animagus I come across?" Harry surmised.

"No. At least, not unless you want to make a lot of people very uncomfortable," James said.

"Though, we have always theorized about McGonagall's form…" Sirius mentioned. "We think she's a cat because they are calm and approachable and soft. She's so upright and strict in her daily life, but I always thought that she wished she could connect more with her students and other people. The cat sort of bridges those two worlds for her," he mused.

Harry was burning to ask about their forms, but after what James had said, he knew better than to blurt it out. So instead he said, "Interesting…"