Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I have any claim to anything JK Rowling has created. I make no profit off this story, except in the form of wonderful suggestions and comments from my readers, so there's no reason to sue me.

A/N: Here's the next chapter! This is kind of a filler thing, just like several chapters coming up, but a few things that are important do happen here. Harry's got a lot going on, and I needed to fit these in somewhere. So tell me what you think, and I'll get the next chapter up a.s.a.p. Thanks!

000000000000 Chapter 16: Apparating and Malfoy 0000000000000000

"All right," Kinglsey said solemnly. "The single most important part of Apparating is concentration, Harry."

Harry nodded, listening attentively to the auror. Concentration, he told himself. Remember to concentrate. "Okay," he said. Kingsley grinned.

"Usually they make you learn a lot of theory stuff about apparition before they let you try it," he said, "But I never could remember that stuff. So we're just going to try a few simple practice apparitions, and then if that goes well we'll try something more complicated."

"What do I do?" Harry asked, ready. He was really hoping that this skill came easily to him, but there was still that little worm of doubt in the back of his mind. He could just seen it now…Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, unable to do the most common of magic.

"It's important to have a destination in mind when you Apparate," Kingsley told him. "As a simple exercise, you'll just look at the other side of the room, concentrate on it, and do the wand movement. There isn't an incantation for Apparating."

"All right," Harry agreed, focusing on the other side of the room. He held his wand up a little more.

"Focus on wanting to be on the other side of the room," Kingsley said. "Then flick your wand up and to the right slightly (he demonstrated once)," he explained. "That should do it."

"Okay," Harry said. He breathed out, focusing on the other side of the room, and then thought hard about wanting to be on the other side of the room. He flicked his wand the way Kingsley had shown him, and nothing happened.

Harry stood there, feeling stupid and slightly panicked, but Kingsley just nodded. "I didn't expect you to get it on the first try," he assured Harry. "Very, very few people do. Just keep your concentration and do the movement. You'll get it."

Harry nodded and raised his wand again. He flicked it just as he'd been shown.

And once again, nothing happened. "I don't think I'm going to get it," he said, after the fifth try. He raised his wand. "Am I doing this right?" he asked, showing Kingsley how he was moving his wand.

But about halfway through the wand movement, something happened.

There was a loud CRACK!

He looked around wildly, wondering what had caused the sound, and saw Kingsley was on the other side of the room, wand out and looking slightly…amused?

"What happened?" Harry asked. "What made that sound?"

"You did," Kingsley said, smiling. Harry suddenly realized that he was the one on the other side of the room, and he grinned. It had worked. "You put a lot of energy behind that, Harry," he said. "Next time try to tone it down a little."

"It worked!" he exclaimed, mostly in relief. Kinglsey chuckled.

"It works for just about everyone, Harry. I think you might have been concentrating too hard," he suggested. Harry nodded, then thought about what Kingsley had first said.

"How do you know that I put too much energy into it?" he asked, curious.

"The sound was loud," he explained. "It is usually quieter than that, if you do it right. Dung's the only one that never cares how much noise he makes."

Harry suddenly recalled the way Dumbledore had whirled and disappeared and reappeared silently while dueling with Voldemort. "So was Dumbledore apparating and disapparating silently when he was dueled with Voldemort?" he asked.

Kingsley only flinched slightly at the name. "If you apparate back over to this side of the room, I'll explain to you about that. It's a little different."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He concentrated again, trying not to concentrate too much, and this time he had apparated before he could do anything with his wand. The sound was just as loud, though.

"Good," Kingsley said. "You'll figure out how to tone it down eventually," he added. "Now, what Albus did was something a little different than apparating. It's much more difficult and requires a lot of skill. It's related to Apparating, but it's like a few steps up from it."

"Can all wizards and witches do it?" he asked, curious. Kingsley shook his head.

"Albus is something unto himself," he said with a small grin. "He can do things that most people could never hope to accomplish. Of course, You—er—Voldemort, is just as skilled."

"Great," Harry said softly. How was he supposed to defeat a dark wizard that was just as skilled as the most incredible wizard alive?

Although, he did kind of wonder how it was that Voldemort couldn't seem to kill him. He had had lots of opportunities, but every time he had failed. He knew a lot of it was just pure luck and had nothing to do with skill, but his 'luck' seemed to be staying fairly consistent. Silently, he warned himself not to come to rely on that luck. He had gotten other people killed. His luck didn't hold for them.

"We'll try this a few more times, Harry, and then call it a day. You're looking a little pale," Kingsley said. Harry frowned slightly at the auror's worried tone.

"I'm fine," he said. "I promise."

"All right," Kingsley said lightly. "Once more across the room, then, and then I'll have you try to apparate out into the hall."

Harry nodded. A loud sound later, he was on the other side of the room. This time, he really noticed that he'd apparated, and when he appeared he staggered slightly, feeling slightly dizzy. He straightened up quickly, though, and smiled. "All right," he said.

"Now, just focus on the hall, or even the kitchen if that's more familiar to you," Kingsley instructed. "Same as before, but just remember to keep your destination clearly in mind when you apparate. Otherwise, you can splich yourself, and that can be hard to clear up." The man smirked. "Besides, I don't want to explain to Albus or Remus why their boy is in more than one piece all of a sudden."

Harry rolled his eyes discretely. He was sixteen. He really didn't think he was anyone's 'boy,' and he sure hadn't ever been anyone's when he really had been a boy. For a moment, he wondered just how long he would have to live with this whole mothering and worry thing, and then he turned to focusing on the kitchen.

He pictured it as clearly as he could in his mind, and then turned a part of his thoughts onto wanting to appear in the kitchen. He held the thoughts as clearly as he could in his head, and as before when he went to do the wand movement he'd already apparated. The crack-sound seemed distant, somehow, but he didn't even think about it as he realized that he was in the kitchen now, standing just where he'd imagined he would be standing.

Kingsley apparated next to him a moment later, grinning. "Good," he said. "Some people take weeks to learn this much."

Harry smiled. It felt good to actually see the results from something…not like Occlumency, where things actually seemed to get worse with each passing lesson. He opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly his legs seemed to turn to water. He crumpled to the ground before he had a chance to catch himself.

"Harry?" Kingsley said worriedly. Harry blushed, pushing himself up to his feet.

"I'm fine, I'm all right," he said, getting up. He sat down in a chair fairly quickly, though, still feeling exhausted and weak. "My knees just felt odd, that's all."

Kingsley smiled sympathetically. "You're exhausted," he said. "It takes a lot of energy to apparate a lot, and you were still putting a lot of energy behind each of your attempts. It'll take at least a few hours or until tomorrow before you feel completely better. You'll just have to work on using less energy when you apparate."

Harry nodded. "When I was first learning to create my Patronus, I always got really weak and exhausted," he admitted. Kingsley nodded.

"Complex spells usually take a lot out of a person when they first learn them. You did a lot of apparating for it just being your first day learning, so it's bound to leave you exhausted," he agreed. "Do you need any assistance?" he continued, as Harry slowly pushed himself to his feet.

He shook his head. "No, I'll be fine," he promised. "I'm going to go upstairs, I guess, and take a nap or something," he told the auror. "I didn't get much sleep last night," he added. Kingsley nodded.

"Sure," he said. "Hestia's probably upstairs somewhere, and I'll inform Tonks and Remus when they return."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks. And thanks for the lesson. That was really great," he said.

Kingsley smiled. "My pleasure, Harry. Anytime at all," he assured the teen. Harry nodded again and then turned and started out of the room for the stairs.

After he took a long, hot bath, Harry crawled into bed. His head was aching now, as if he hadn't slept in days, and his body felt heavy and exhausted. He didn't even have the time or willpower to even attempt the barest clearings of his mind before he'd fallen asleep.

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Voldemort was happy. That's what Harry realized first, as the heavy nausea that always accompanied Voldemort's happiness rolled through him. He thought he was going to be sick, but instead the nausea tapered off a little, keeping him from waking himself up.

"It worked," Voldemort said, sounding triumphant.

Harry still couldn't really see anything in the vision, but he realized that he wasn't seeing things through Voldemort's eyes. He was a spectator again, trapped in the vision.

"Now I will know when the brat falls asleep," Voldemort continued. Harry's stomach turned to ice in an instant. Voldemort knew he was there, and knew that he was vulnerable.

He didn't hear anything before the pain suddenly tore through his body. Voldemort was cursing someone…he had to be, to be causing Harry pain like this.

But he still couldn't see anything. It wasn't like he was seeing anything at all. Perhaps Voldemort was reaching out to him…

"Hello, Potter," Voldemort's voice came to him. Red glowing eyes appeared in the darkness, followed by the rest of Voldemort. Harry looked down and saw that he was on his knees on the ground.

He pushed himself up stubbornly, refusing to kneel before his parent's murderer, and Voldemort laughed condescendingly. "You really think that you can face me?" he asked. Harry glared.

"I've faced you before," he snarled. Voldemort didn't seem to like that response.

Without a word of warning, Harry again collapsed as pain shot through his body, burning up his bones in fiery suddenness. When it faded, he was on his stomach, breathing hard.

It took much longer to stand again, this time, and Voldemort just watched him, smiling coldly. "Only a little pain, a little imaginary pain, and you're on your knees," he commented. Harry's hands clenched into fists as he tried hard to control his anger.

"Get out of my head," he snarled. Voldemort just watched him.

"Get angry, boy," he said softly. "Don't you hate me?" he goaded. Harry refused to be baited, though.

"I won't let you possess me, Tom," he said.

This time, it was Voldemort's turn to get angry. "My name is Voldemort," he snapped. "I will not tolerate the use of my father's name!"

Harry grinned, mostly because he knew he was just asking for more pain. "What? Embarrassed by the name Tom?" he pressed. Voldemort glowered, and Harry didn't stand a chance as the pain threw him to the ground.

This time, he couldn't keep from screaming, and he lost himself in the thrashing and screaming and pain…

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He woke up clutching someone's arm. He couldn't tell who it was or where he was or when it was or really anything at all. His body was trembling, but he wasn't really in pain. It had all been in his head, this time, but it had felt so real…and now he just shook with shock and remembered pain.

"Harry." It was Tonks. "Harry, are you awake now?"

"T-Tonks," he stated. "What time is it?" he asked. He felt cold. He couldn't tell if he was trembling or shivering now. The sheets were like ice on his skin.

"It's a little past one in the afternoon," she said. "You've been asleep a few hours now." She paused, shifting slightly, and he was unable to stop the heavy shivers as the duvet slipped down a little, letting cold air hit his shoulders.

That's right, he remembered distractedly. He'd fallen asleep in just his pajama pants. "I'm so cold," he said.

The duvet was pulled back up almost instantly. "Sorry there, Harry," Tonks said. "I heard you screaming," she added, trying to sound casual.

"I had a vision, sort of," he admitted. "Voldemort just talked to me though, and it was black all around us."

"Are you in pain?" she asked, alarmed sounding.

"No, no," he said quickly. "It was all in my head this time, I think," he said. "Except I'm so cold…"

"That'll pass, I suppose," Tonks said. "At least you don't sound half outta your mind or anything," she added, trying to be humorous. Harry laughed weakly once.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm still able to make complete sentences this time. No getting Snape."

"Remus and I got your stuff," she said, changing the subject. Harry nodded, but he was starting to feel ridiculous, leaning against Tonks like this with her arm around him. But just as he felt embarrassed, he suddenly wondered if this was how his mother would have held him if he'd had a nightmare…

He pushed away abruptly, unwilling to dwell on that thought, and Tonks let him go. He still felt weak and wobbly, but he managed to sit up and turn so that he was halfway facing Tonks, the blankets all wrapped around himself. "Where is he now?" he asked, trying to cover the sudden silence.

"Business with Albus," she said with a sigh. "Not too sure what's going on this time."

"Are Hestia and Kingsley still around?" he asked. He didn't want to know that they'd heard him screaming as well.

"They left when I returned," Tonks assured him. "An hour or so ago. There's a lot going on right now."

Harry felt a little embarrassed. The two aurors had been here only because he was here. Playing babysitter to him because he couldn't keep his relatives in line and Voldemort out of his head. He resolved to try to be more helpful and less stubborn with the other aurors, so they didn't feel like they were wasting their time as much. "I'm feeling better," he said.

He said it just to reassure her, really, but it was mostly true. His shaking had stopped, and he was warming up again. He reached around to the side of the bed and found his glasses and slipped them on his face. "So do you want some lunch, then?" Tonks asked him.

"Sure," he agreed. He still felt incredibly tired and would have liked nothing more than to go back to sleep, but he didn't want Tonks telling Remus that he was sick or hurt or something.

He got out of bed and slipped on a shirt before following Tonks out of the bedroom and back down to the kitchen. It really was empty, though there were two half-full teacups on the table.

Perhaps Hestia and Kingsley hadn't left just because. More likely, there had been an emergency. He frowned at the thought of Remus and the others all out there fighting and risking their lives, while he was stuck here, eating lunch and being babysat. Sitting down, he tried to push that thought from his head. It wasn't his fault, and it wasn't like he could've stayed at his relatives. His aunt probably would have eventually gotten up the courage to kill him in his sleep.

"Here we are," Tonks said, putting together a plate of sandwiches quickly. She sat down, and Harry rather reluctantly took a sandwich and started eating. He wasn't feeling that hungry.

"So," he said after he finished just half a sandwich. Hopefully, if he talked enough, Tonks wouldn't notice if he didn't eat very much. "When did you suddenly become a good cook?" he asked. He'd been wondering this for quite some time now—the last he'd remembered, Tonks had been a terrible cook and even worse at any 'housey' spells. She was still clumsy and broke things every now and then, but her cooking was pretty good.

Tonks grinned at him. "Found a reason to cook good, I guess," she admitted. Harry wondered if the name of that reason might start with an 'R' and end with an 'S,' but he didn't push it. "Besides, someone has to make sure that you gain some weight," she added. He grimaced.

"I eat as much as I can, really," he told her. "But there's only so much my stomach can digest in one day."

Tonks laughed, starting on her third half-sandwich. Harry slowly took another, seeing her slightly concerned look disappear as he took a bite. "I hear Kingsley gave you an Apparating lesson," she commented. He nodded, swallowing.

"Yeah," he said. "He helped me do a few simple apparating exercises," he explained. "He said I put too much energy into the apparations, though," he added. "It really wore me out."

"That'll get better with practice," Tonks assured him. "You just have to get used to using the right amount of energy for each attempt. Then you won't wear yourself out."

"Yeah," he said. "How come I'm allowed to learn to Apparate while I'm here, but I can't do any other magic?" he asked curiously. Tonks grinned.

"Apparating doesn't count, cuz you don't have to use a spell," she explained. "It's like accidental magic," she tried. "It doesn't count."

Harry remembered that he'd never gotten into any trouble over blowing up his aunt before third year…a lot of that had been political, but then again he didn't remember ever receiving a letter from the misuse of magic office, and he knew that they were pretty good about delivering their letters.

Dobby's use of magic before second year had gotten him in trouble, but he supposed that had more to do with Dobby wanting him to be expelled from Hogwarts than anything else. He'd probably done something so that the magic looked deliberate. A…Hover Charm, or whatever it had been.

"So I suppose animagi-related magic doesn't get noticed, too," he commented. Tonks nodded, grinning.

"Apparating, animagi, me," she said, changing her hair color to prove her point. "I don't use a spell, so they don't notice." She changed her hair back to dark blonde. Harry grinned. At least his holiday wasn't going to be a complete waste.

"Do you think there was an attack?" he asked, eyeing the teacups left on the table. Tonks sighed.

"Dunno," she admitted. "I doubt it—Voldy doesn't usually attack during the day—but something else coulda come up."

"I feel like I'm being babysat," he told her, frowning. "I may not be out of Hogwarts yet, but I'm not a little boy."

"It's not like that," Tonks said. Harry sighed this time, frustrated.

"What is it like, then? Is it because I have--. Because I have to be the Boy-Who-Lived?" he asked. He'd almost said 'because I have to kill Voldemort,' but at the last moment he'd remembered that Tonks probably didn't know the Prophecy. That would be too much of hint, to say that.

"Harry, you mean a lot more to us than you seem to think," Tonks said.

"Thanks," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "But—"

He was interrupted as there was a whoosh sound from the other room, and then several shouts. Tonks was up in an instant, wand out. Her chair clattered over backwards, but she didn't trip over it. "Stay here, Harry," she said. Harry got to his feet.

"What—" he started to say.

"Stay!" she said, and then was out the door. Harry almost followed her, but then forced himself to stay in the room, like she'd told him to. He still didn't feel that good, and if it was Death Eaters or something they'd come looking for him eventually.

He told himself that he heard fighting, there was no way he'd leave Tonks in there alone, but it didn't come to that.

"Harry?"

Harry turned. Kingsley was in the doorway. "You're back," he commented. Kingsley nodded but did not smile.

"Come on, Harry," Kingsley said. Harry followed the auror, worried, and found Tonks, Hestia, Bill, and another wizard in the sitting room by the fireplace.

"Where's Remus?" he asked. Tonks looked ill.

"He's hurt," she said weakly.

"He's at Hogwarts," Hestia supplemented. "So's Charlie."

"What happened?" he asked.

"A little run-in with a half-dozen Death Eaters," Hestia said. "We arrested three, but the rest got away. Remus and Charlie were both injured."

"Are they all right?" he asked. Hestia nodded after a little hesitation.

"Remus took a pretty nasty curse to the neck, and Charlie got hit with some sort of dark spell. They should be all right, though," she explained.

"Can I see him? Can I go see how they are?" he asked. Tonks smiled thinly.

"We're all going," she said. "Albus said it's okay for you to come as well."

"We have two minutes left before the floo opens at Hogwarts," the strange wizard announced, looking at a pocket watch. Harry took the floo powder that Kingsley poured into his hand, and then stood back a bit.

Tonks looked older and more worried than he'd ever seen. She must really have something for Remus, he decided, for his being hurt to make her this upset. He'd have to make sure that Remus knew how upset Tonks had been, if she didn't tell him herself.

Bill was pretending that he wasn't worried, smiling and chatting with the others as usual, but Harry could see that his eyes kept darting to the fireplace, waiting for when he'd be able to see how his brother was doing.

"All right, time," the wizard said. He threw his handful of floo powder into the fire. "Hogwarts, Great Hall," he said clearly. He stepped into the fire and was gone.

Harry went right after Tonks—they were still all guarding him, even for this. It irritated him slightly, but he didn't object. The sooner that he could find out whether Remus was okay, the better.

The floo trip was just as awful as all of the other times, and he staggered out of the huge fireplace in the Great Hall coughing up soot and dirt. He felt hands on him. "Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said. He took his glasses off and wiped them clean, while Tonks spelled the soot off both his and her robes.

He smiled his thanks, and then they hurried towards the infirmary, others behind them. The old castle felt so familiar to Harry, that even in his hurry he paused a moment just to savor the feeling of the magic in the castle.

Remus was lying in the bed nearest to the doors. He looked pale but was unmarked, and Harry couldn't see any sign of Remus's injuries. The blankets on the bed pulled up to his shoulders. Madame Pomfrey was by him, checking him with her wand.

"He'll be fine," she said, seeing their worried expressions. "Just asleep now."

"You sure?" Tonks asked worriedly. "He's so pale…"

"He's fine," Pomfrey said again, sternly. "Just give him a few days to recover all the way, and he'll be himself in no time."

"How's Charlie?" Harry asked. Remus looked like he was going to be okay.

"Awake," came Charlie's voice. Harry looked past Remus's bed to where Charlie lay, half sitting up and propped on some pillows. Bill was already next to him. "Albus will be here to talk soon," he added, glancing at Harry.

Harry knew what that meant, and before anyone could say anything to him he spoke up. "I know, I know," he said. "I'll be in the Great Hall or something," he said.

"Thanks," Tonks said softly. Harry just rolled his eyes and left. He'd stay out of their way as much as he could, but he didn't have to like it.

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He was looking down at his shoes as he walked along, headed back towards the Great Hall as best as he could figure, when he was stopped by a cold and maddeningly familiar voice.

"Potter."

Harry looked up and to the left, and, sure enough, Draco Malfoy himself was standing in the hall, looking taller and colder than ever. "Malfoy," he said calmly in return, though his left hand did creep back to check that his wand was close by. Just in case he needed it.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy asked, stepping closer. Harry shrugged, refusing to let Malfoy get him upset.

"Could ask you the same thing," he commented. "I'm just visiting a friend."

"I told you I'd make you pay for what you did to my father," the other teen snapped. Harry smiled humorlessly.

"I didn't do anything to him, Malfoy," Harry said. "He did it to himself. He's in Azkaban because he's a Death Eater."

Malfoy was now just two feet from him. "My father is in prison because of you!"

"Sure," Harry said. "Whatever you want to believe."

"Did you know that the Ministry took away my mansion because of you?" Malfoy asked, voice getting tense. Harry smiled again, wondering just how wound he could get Malfoy to become.

"Yeah?" he said. "Nope, hadn't heard about that, but thanks for telling me."

Malfoy smiled slyly suddenly, his anger vanishing in an instant. Harry felt a little twist in his stomach. What was Malfoy up to now? "At least I have a mother to stay with. And she's wealthy enough on her own," Malfoy drawled, smirking. "Your worthless mother got herself killed. And of course you were shunted off with some mugglesSo much for being famous, huh?"

Harry glared. "At least my mother wasn't a Death Eater's whore," he snapped. It felt good to finally get a chance to say something back to Malfoy for his comments at the Quidditch match the year before.

The fist caught him before he had a chance to do anything. His last insult had been just a bit over the line, he decided abstractedly. But Malfoy had really been asking for it.

He'd expected Malfoy to go for his wand and cast some curse, like he usually did, so this attack caught him a little by surprise.

The punch hit him hard just left of his nose, and the force of it knocked him backwards, onto his butt. His left hand flew up to his suddenly-bleeding nose, but he didn't have a chance to get up or say a word, because Malfoy had jumped on top of him now, straddling his stomach in order to hit him again, this time high on his right cheek.

"OW!" Harry shouted, past annoyed and very much angry now. He bucked hard, knocking the teen off of him when the third punch hit him in the side of the head, and then launched himself on Malfoy, punching him hard in the jaw. He didn't even notice at the time that his vision had slid out of focus. He was just intent on tearing apart the teen in front of him.

Malfoy responded by kneeing him hard in the side, but then he hit Malfoy again, right in the teeth. Hopefully, he thought grimly, he'd knocked a few loose. "Get off me, Potter!" Malfoy shouted, shoving. Harry was knocked onto his back, too dazed from the previous punches to stay sitting on Malfoy.

A second later, Malfoy was back on top of him, trying to punch him again. Harry threw up an arm defensively, and the first fist glanced off—but the other hit him hard in the eye. He saw stars, for probably the second or third time, but shook it off enough to throw his own punch.

Malfoy seemed to be pretty exhausted now—he knew he was—and the blow knocked him off Harry and onto the ground. Harry didn't have the strength to go after Malfoy again, and they just lay there, both panting and fingering their various injuries.

"This isn't over," Malfoy finally said. "By the end of this year, you'll be sorry you ever messed with me."

"Get a life, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly, massaging his left eye. Suddenly, he realized that his glasses were missing. Luckily, they'd been knocked off at some point, he realized, or else they would've gotten smashed on his face.

He lay there, wondering where they would have gone, and tried to get the world to stop tipping over sideways. Finally, it seemed to calm down a little and he pushed himself up with his hands. "You'd better hope your pathetic friends always have you around," Malfoy growled. Harry decided to take that as a compliment rather than a threat. He looked over at the blur that was Malfoy and smiled grimly.

"Hope you can get those teeth fixed," he said, unable to actually see whether any of them were knocked loose. He heard Malfoy growl, and watched the blur get up. Then, he heard a rather nasty sounding crunch.

"Your glasses are over here, Potter," Malfoy said nastily, then stalked off. Harry sighed and got to his knees, crawling over to where he'd heard the crunching sound and gathering up the various bits of his glasses. They'd been through the mill so many times, he almost felt like apologizing to them for getting smashed. Again.

When he tried to stand up the first time, his knees wobbled and he slid back down to the ground. The second try, though, he made it to his feet and he started back in the direction of the infirmary. He knew he couldn't hide his injuries from anyone, but at least Pomfrey could heal them up fairly quickly.

"Harry? What happened to you?" a blur somewhere in front of him said. It sounded like Bill, though, and the hair did look kind of reddish.

He smiled. "Argument," he explained. The blur came closer, and he saw that it really was Bill. "Since when is Draco Malfoy here at Hogwarts?" he asked. Bill smiled flatly and took Harry's mangled glasses.

"Reparo," he said, and Harry slipped on the now-whole glasses, happy to have the world back in focus. "Draco Malfoy's here because he's 'at risk,' or something," Bill said. "Albus explained something about him and his mother being here for protection." Bill glanced at him as they headed the rest of the way to the infirmary. "Why were you fighting with him?"

"Er—" Harry said, feeling kind of stupid. "Well, he said something, and I said something back, and after a few more insults he hit me, and then I went after him," he tried to explain. It all seemed kind of silly now.

"Who won?" Bill asked casually. Harry laughed.

"I think it was a tie," he said. "Malfoy got up first, but I got the last punch in."

"If he looks half as bad as you do, I'm surprised he's walking," Bill commented. Harry glanced at the red-haired man.

"Really?" he asked. "Do I look that bad?"

"You're going to have a black eye, your nose is swollen and bloody, there's a cut below your right eye, and a big bruise by your left," Bill described. "And I'd better warn you—Madame Pomfrey's pretty busy right now, so she might not heal you right away."

Harry grinned, taking Bill by surprised, judging on his expression. "As long as Malfoy has to stay unhealed, too," he said. "I think I might've broken a few of his teeth," he explained. Bill shook his head, but he was grinning.

"I never would've thought you'd be the type to get into fistfights," he admitted. "You were pretty quiet when I first met you. That was just two years ago."

Harry remembered his summer after third year, when he'd went to the Weasley's before the Quidditch World Cup. He guessed he had been pretty quiet for a fourteen year old. "I'm just getting tired of Malfoy's mouth," he said. "And I'm tired of feeling useless and helpless all the time. And besides, when you first met me, I hadn't just seen another teenager murdered and escaped from Voldemort."

Bill looked a little worried, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop it," he said.

"What?" Bill asked.

"Don't start the pity thing, or the 'worried I'm going to explode' thing," he instructed. "I'm not made of glass, and I'm not going to fall to pieces all of a sudden. I didn't do it after fourth year—well, at least not the falling apart thing, anyway—, and I'm not going to do it now."

"At least you're still well enough to get a tie in a fight," Bill said, amused. "Come on," he said. "Let's see if Poppy'll heal you."

Harry nodded and followed Bill into the infirmary, readying himself for everyone else's reactions. Hopefully, he thought guiltily, Remus would still be asleep.

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Remus still hadn't woken up by that evening, and Tonks told Harry that they were staying the night at Hogwarts. Harry had agreed eagerly, hoping to stay in his dorm room, but Tonks told him that the dorms were kept locked up during the summers.

Pomfrey had quickly healed most of his injuries, too, and only the faintest remnants of his black eye remained on his face. It didn't hurt, though, so he really didn't care.

"I told Albus about your vision thing this afternoon," Tonks told him. "He has Professor Snape working full time on a way to stop this. He says Voldy's got some sort of alarm thing set up that tells him when you've fallen asleep, and probably Occlumency won't do much more than keep him from learning anything from you unwillingly. Otherwise, you're still vulnerable."

"So what do I do?" he asked.

Tonks held out three vials of an orange-ish potion. "It's sort of like pepper-up potion," she explained, "but its effects are milder and last longer. It should keep you from falling asleep at all tonight."

"So I just stay awake all night and as long as it takes to find a way to stop the visions?" he asked, incredulous. Sure, he was sort of leery of going back to sleep after his short nap in the afternoon, but he did want to sleep eventually.

"Something like that," Tonks agreed with a weak grin. He took the vials reluctantly, pocketing them. He'd drink one when he started to feel sleepy. "Professor Snape may be a greasy git, Harry, but he knows his potions."

"Sure, whatever," he grumbled, stomping out of the infirmary. He had no idea what to do to fill up time, but he wandered around anyway, going up and down staircases at random. It was going to be a long, long, night, he decided.

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A/N: Just remember to review, I guess. Thank you to:

Catti, Loony, Lilypotterfan, lashajayne, Numba1, and Rini savian-jin. Your reviews mean a great deal to me!