Harry slipped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and hurried to his seat, casting an apologetic glance at the professor when the class looked up at their late classmate. Lupin nodded in understanding.

The other Gryffindors grinned at him with pride and Neville regarded him with near-reverence. Harry blushed and slumped down into his chair. The whole "we studied because of Neville" thing had felt like a nice thing to do at the time, but now he felt a little stupid under all the attention. Besides, not to burst Neville's bubble, but he doubted mention of Neville organizing a study group had changed how Snape felt toward the clumsy boy.

"So," Professor Lupin lectured with his kind smile, "let's get a little hands-on practice, shall we? Everyone pair up. On my signal, you will try to disable your partner. The winners will pair up with each other and we'll continue the process until there's a winner, who can then take a crack at disarming me."

The class laughed brightly, in good spirits over some good-natured competition and a break from the books. Rustling and scraping filled the room as desks were pushed out of the way and people grabbed partners.

Neville hurried up to Harry with a hopeful look and Harry nodded, hoping his face didn't betray worry of Neville mixing up his hexes again. Memories of Neville accidentally making the legs disappear off a test dummy the previous week unnerved Harry a little, but when Neville began to apologize prematurely at being bad at magic, Harry firmly cut him off and insisted Neville was a great wizard.

Neville beamed beatifically. Harry made a mental note to protect his legs.

After Lupin outlined final rules, everyone bowed and got into the appropriate stances.

"Begin!"

Harry paled as Neville threw a leg-locker curse, but with a wave of his wand, the curse disappeared on-course. Neville's eyes widened and even Harry faltered for a moment. He hadn't known he could do that.

Neville prepared to send another, but Harry rapidly fired the jelly-legs hex and the disarming spell. A good sport, Neville laughed and complimented Harry while the dark-haired boy helped Neville to his feet.

Harry was a little dazed, though. He could have sworn the curses left his wand almost before he had voiced them.

"Told you I was rubbish," Neville muttered with a blush. He was the first to lose.

"You're not rubbish," Harry chastised. "You just need practice. I got lots last year when Hermione was preparing me for the..." His words abruptly halted as images from the third task sprang up unexpectedly. He looked away.

Neville grew serious, his eyes full of sympathy as he put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "You okay?"

Harry pushed the horrible thoughts away. "Yeah. Fine." He eventually nodded to Ron and Hermione, the last pair standing. "Ron's giving her a run for her money. I'm a little impressed."

"Yeah, I didn't think anyone could take Hermione except a professor," Neville agreed.

Hermione and Ron simultaneously shouted "Petrificus Totalus!" They both stiffened and crashed to the floor.

Professor Lupin swiftly canceled the hex and they both laughed it off, climbing to their feet. Ron was happy he had stood his ground and Hermione was too busy critiquing her own performance to be sore about losing.

Harry went through his next partners just as quickly and easily. Neville seemed less self-conscious when Harry took down Seamus, Lavender and two Hufflepuffs within seconds. And then, Harry was the only one left.

"I'm impressed, Harry. Very impressed," Lupin congratulated. "Because of the speed in which you've won with your other partners, I'm not going to hold back. I'll use some advanced spells and curses, so you may need to simply focus on blocking as many as you can, all right?"

Harry nodded, preparing to get his arse handed to him.

"Miss Granger, may you give the signal?"

They both bowed and took their positions.

"All right," Hermione said excitedly. "Begin!"

Professor Lupin immediately began to fire unfamiliar curses at Harry in rapid succession. It was strange, though. It was almost as if everything were moving a little slower than they should. Harry dodged, blocked or deflected each one of them with surprisingly little effort. He wondered if his professor had gone easy on him after all. Yet, Lupin seemed surprised and began to shoot the curses faster.

It didn't make much difference to Harry.

Finally remembering that he didn't have to just play defensively, he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and Lupin's wand was suddenly in his hand.

The whole class, including Professor Lupin, stood in shocked silence. Harry began to feel uncomfortable. Sure he had an edge after last year's training, but it was almost like his magic itself had become more...oh.

So it was working. The cancer was mutating his magic. He was becoming more powerful.

"Harry," Professor Lupin started, still staring in disbelief. "That was incredible. How did you do that?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I don't know, I just did," he offered, not knowing what else to say. "Er...here's your want back, sir."

"Well class, let's have a hand for our dueling champion." The class broke into applause. "Ten, no fifteen points to Gryffindor. Keep up the good work, Harry."

The class was dismissed and Ron and Hermione bounced excitedly at his sides.

"Goodness, Harry, that was amazing! You beat a professor!" Hermione gushed animatedly as they walked through the hall.

"Yeah, mate, you're on a roll today. First, you make a potion right..."

Harry glared at him, indignant at the insinuation that getting a potion right was so rare, but Ron carried on oblivious.

"...then you kicked professor arse. What's next, you gonna predict something in Divination? Going to go beat up a dragon?"

Harry laughed along like he was supposed to, but he wasn't sure how to feel about the whole thing. Sure, it seemed great: extra power, quick intellect...it was exactly what he'd need to finish off Voldemort. But it also meant that he was getting sicker. His impressive abilities were really just a showy mask to distract from the insidious illness creeping through his body, slowly killing him.

-

At dinner, tales of Harry's dueling prowess and of the potions incident spread down the table.

"Come on, it wasn't a big deal," Harry insisted. "I told you, I practiced a lot last year for the tournament."

"So did I," Hermione pointed out as others turned away to chat. "I taught you and I can't do that. That was something more."

Harry shook his head. "It was nothing. Can we change the subject?" He began to reach for the salt but didn't have to extend his arm far. The saltshaker flew off the table and smacked into his hand.

Harry was so stunned he dropped the saltshaker as if it were a hot coal. It clattered to the table and people's gazes jerked toward him. He picked it up and swept the salt off the edge of the table with a hand, muttering about being clumsy.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered. She and Ron stared at him, jaws slack. Hermione looked around to make sure nobody was looking and then leaned in over the table. She hesitantly picked up the saltshaker and placed it next to her. "Try that again."

"Hermione..." Harry began to protest, but didn't know how to finish.

"Do it, mate," Ron urged, too stunned to be excited yet.

Uncertainly, Harry stuck out his hand toward it.

Nothing happened.

"Try to make it come to you," she whispered. "Tell it to with your mind."

He warily followed her instructions. It didn't take much mental concentration for the saltshaker to slide across the table into his waiting hand.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed.

"You can do wandless magic!" Hermione hissed. "Harry, even Dumbledore only has limited wandless abilities and he didn't develop those until he trained to fight Grindelwald!"

Harry paled and pushed the salt away. "No. I think there's some mistake."

"Mistake? Mate, we just saw you do it," Ron laughed in amazement. "That's so wicked! Try doing something else."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

Surrendering to it all, Harry looked at Hermione's plate and wordlessly told it to spin. They all watched in wonder as Hermione's plate whirled in place.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered again. Then, his plate started spinning too.

"Two at once," Harry smiled.

"Harry?" came a voice at his side. The two plates clattered noisily as they fell back to the table and Harry looked up in alarm. It was Neville. "Will you tutor me in Potions?"

Relieved he hadn't been caught, Harry tried to convince Neville that he wouldn't be a very good tutor, but when Eloise Midgen from Hufflepuff overheard on her way over to her table and nervously asked if he could tutor her too, Harry finally relented and said he'd try his best.

He ate quickly before anyone else could ask for tutoring, and Ron and Hermione kept up with his pace. As soon as they could, they practically dragged him from the hall.

"This is unbelievable!" Hermione gushed as they walked through the near-empty halls. Most everyone was still at dinner. "You'll have to practice, of course. We should see what your capabilities are. I'll have to do some research so we can see how to best use it."

"Use it?" Harry said weakly. He already felt like a weapon.

"To protect yourself," Hermione explained. "You-Know-Who is clearly after you. He's failed in killing you before, yes, but last year he failed in front of his servants. I think he'll try again and he'll be determined. I've been so terrified about it, but here's our answer!"

Harry felt pleasantly warm at that. Hermione had been scared for him? That was unexpected, but really, really nice to hear.

"And if you help me with my dueling, since you're obviously good at that now too, then maybe I could be an Auror with you. If we work on fighting together and make it clear we have a system going, then maybe we could convince them that we've gotta be partners! How wicked would that be?"

Harry smiled in excitement at the idea, but then it faltered. Oh yeah. Harry could never be an Auror. He would never have any job.

"You've decided on a career, Ron?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Calm down, I don't need your nagging. I'm thinking about it."

Hermione huffed.

"What about you, then?" Ron asked her. "Let me guess. A professor?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, I'm considering it."

"Take over Professor Trelawney's job. We need to get rid of that old bat."

Hermione didn't bother scolding Ron about bad-mouthing a teacher. It was clear she agreed.

"I would not teach Divination," she said primly as they climbed into the surprisingly empty common room. "I would teach something useful. I couldn't teach Defense, obviously, I don't have the practical skills for that, but I'd consider other openings like Charms or Transfiguration. Runes would be ideal."

"What are you talking about?" Harry argued. "You've got Defense skills."

She shook her head. "Not like you. In fact, I think you should consider teaching Defense."

"But Harry's going to be an Auror," Ron protested.

"I'm not going to be an Auror," Harry muttered miserably. "Or a teacher."

"Okay," Hermione said cautiously, picking up on his mood. "What are you going to do then once we graduate?"

Harry pictured the graduation ceremony: Hermione and Ron going up to accept their diplomas, all the Gryffindors hugging each other and vowing to keep in touch, being congratulated by their proud families. He wondered if when the P names were called if there would be any moment of sadness among his classmates or if two years was enough time that they would have already moved on.

"I'm...I'm not going to graduate from Hogwarts."

Ron looked confused. "It's not like Snape can fail you, especially after today."

Hermione tilted her head sympathetically. "Harry, you will survive Voldemort. We'll make sure you do."

Harry licked his lips. They suddenly felt very dry. This was going to be difficult.

"You guys should sit down. I have something I need to tell you."

His friends now looked worried, but they obediently took their seats on a couch. Harry started to pace but soon realized that he felt fatigued. He hoped it was just from stress and not a symptom that would become constant in the next few months. His energy was something he didn't want to give up. He needed it to do what he wanted with his time left.

Harry stiffly sat across from his two best friends. He tried to start several times, but didn't know how one delivered such news.

"You're not thinking of leaving Hogwarts to chase after You-Know-Who, are you?" Hermione abruptly demanded. "Because that wouldn't be smart. You're not prepared. You..."

"No. I'm not running off. This is really hard to say. Just, okay, you remember I was having Hermione help me research magical cures for cancer?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "But we didn't find anything."

"We didn't, but I did."

Hermione perked up in interest. "You did? That's wonderful! Did it actually work?" She gasped. "You broke some law. Is that it?"

"Dumbledore will help you out," Ron insisted. "He always comes through."

Harry swallowed with difficulty. "I didn't break a law. I didn't find a cure exactly. I found an old spell that transfers it from a Muggle to a wizard."

He couldn't bring himself to finish.

There was a pause. Suddenly Hermione reeled backward, bracing her hands against the back cushions.

"Harry, no. No," she choked out. "NO. Harry, you have to transfer it back!"

"I can't," Harry said softly. "It can't be transferred more than once; not back, not to anyone else."

"What? What's going on?" Ron demanded, completely freaked out by Hermione's reaction to something he didn't yet comprehend.

"It'll help me defeat Voldemort. It's what's affecting my magic." Harry explained under Hermione's wide-eyed stare. "I had to."

Hermione burst into hysterical tears and buried her face in her hands.

"So, you're sick with something Muggle?" Ron asked hesitantly. "Hermione, calm down, I can't think! What are you sick with? Whatever it is, St. Mungo's can help."

Harry took a deep breath. "Ron, the cancer will follow the same path as Mr. Stenson's. It's fatal. There's no magical cure; I've researched it and talked to Madam Pomfrey. It's why I did this. If there was another way, I'd have just cured Mr. Stenson."

Ron bolted to his feet. He stepped toward Harry, then took a step back. He blinked and his eyes searched Harry's in panic. "Are you saying you're dying?"

Harry hung his head and nodded.

"You chose to do this?" Ron demanded in a choked voice. His face was turning red with fury.

"I had to, Ron."

"You HAD to?" he exploded. "How long have you known these people? A few months? You chose to give up your life for some people you hardly know? Did you ever think about US?"

"Well, I didn't just do it for them, I can use the extra powers to save everyone. Nobody else has to die."

"Except YOU!" Ron screamed. Two first years coming through the portrait hole stopped and stared. Ron whipped around, eyes blazing. "Get out of here!"

The two girls tore off up the stairs toward their room.

Ron whirled back to Harry. "You didn't think there could be some other way to defeat You-Know-Who? You just found some spell that will kill you for extra powers and you just jumped on it without even considering anything else! I don't believe you. Even you wouldn't be this impulsive!"

Harry cowered back into his chair under Ron's wrath. He hadn't been expecting this, exactly. Hermione's tears didn't really surprise him but when Ron was mad he usually just gave Harry the cold shoulder. Seeing Ron rage like this wasn't something Harry had witnessed before.

"He would have died if I hadn't done it."

"So what?" Ron snarled.

"Well, what if it was your dad? The only family I've ever known is yours and the Stensons."

"What are you asking? If I would let you trade your life for one of my family members?" Ron asked incredulously. "I would never let you do that."

Harry looked to his best friend skeptically. "Come on, Ron, if your dad were in the hospital about to die and I would take his place, you know you wouldn't be reacting like this. He's your family and..."

"YOU'RE MY FAMILY!" Ron roared, breathing heavily. Hermione, who had been finally getting control of herself, dissolved once more into sobs. "Those people are not your family. You barely know them."

"That's not true!" Harry protested heatedly. "They let me stay with them a lot during the summer and they took me in for winter hols."

Ron's jaw dropped and he ran his hands roughly down his face. "You have got to be kidding me! What did you think this would do, Harry, make them adopt you or something? You think this guy's going to think of you as his son because you did this? Someone who lets you do something like this..."

"He doesn't know! He just thinks I cured him," Harry interrupted. His own face was growing hot. Ron's words hurt badly. "And you don't know anything about them! Maybe he will..." Harry cut himself off and looked away.

"He'll what? He'll adopt you?"

Harry shrugged and picked at the hem of his sleeve. "Maybe."

Ron just stared at him. Harry honestly wondered if Ron was going to punch him.

"I'm not expecting anything. That's not why I did it," he tried to explain quickly. "I still haven't even decided whether or not to tell them. But even if nothing comes out of it for me, now their family won't be torn apart. You didn't see the Diggories after they lost Cedric. They're never going to get over it. The Stensons wouldn't have either. It's just the three of them."

Ron readied himself to rip into Harry again, but Hermione suddenly lifted her head and put a hand on his freckled arm. Ron stilled and instead of talking, he suddenly grabbed a pile of books and hurled them against the wall.

Harry jumped at the resulting crash but Hermione didn't even seem to notice. She stared at him almost blankly.

"How long?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"I can't be sure," he replied with great difficulty, "but about five months."

Ron collapsed back onto the couch. He bowed his head and wrapped his fists into his orange hair.

"Please don't be mad," he addressed them both insecurely. "I don't think I could handle it with everything else if you stop talking to me."

Hermione looked up at him in horror and shook her head. She opened her mouth to presumably say she would never do that, but Ron suddenly stood.

"You deserve it," he said darkly and started toward the boys' tower.

Harry felt panic welling. Ron had given him the cold shoulder for months the previous year over something much less serious.

Harry jumped up and started after his best friend.

"Ron!" He tried to yell it angrily but it came out like a needy plea.

"Ron!" There was the anger. But it came from Hermione. Harry looked back to find her standing with the aura of an impending storm. "Harry has five months left with us. Do you plan to waste that time punishing him or are you going to spend it with your best friend?" Her voice hiccupped halfway through the last question and her chin started wobbling again, but she kept her control.

Ron stilled. He kept his back toward them and wiped his arm across his face several times. Finally he turned around, his eyes looking suspiciously moist.

"Okay," he said in defeat. "I'm still mad at you, but I'll try to get over it. I'm here for you, one-hundred percent, yeah?"

Harry gulped and nodded. "Thanks."

Hermione walked over and hugged Harry desperately.

Students started heading in from dinner so Hermione led them up to Harry and Ron's dorm, tearfully talking about research and sternly arguing with Harry about seeing Madam Pomfrey. Ron stayed mostly silent. When Harry asked him not to tell his family, Ron only said that he'd think about it.

Hermione eventually raced off to the library before it closed despite Harry begging her not to waste her night researching. Ron just sort of shut down. His face was emotionless and he went to bed early without touching his homework.

Harry was therefore left alone, feeling shaky from the emotional trauma of his revelation. He decided not to tell the Stensons. What if Mr. Stenson got mad like Ron? Harry didn't ever want Mr. Stenson raging at him like that. It would remind him too much of his uncle. Harry would rather remain blissfully ignorant, wanting to believe his sacrifice could be rewarded with a family. If that wasn't the reaction he received, Harry was unsure if everything he had done to convince himself of this would come crashing down.

And he couldn't change his mind now; there was no turning back.