Okay. Lets get this straight. Castles can burn. Any one in England can testify that from when old Queenies choice of residence took a little tumble. And besides, there are things within the castle that will burn, furniture for example.

He stared, unable to tear his gaze away. Smoke billowed out of the windows like fat pillows emptying their feathers, it dirty clouds melting away into the dark. And past that, through the dense wall of dark fog were the fire lit windows glittering like candles in the night.

The wind picked up, pulling on the smoke like strands of wool on the spinner, and it brought, carried on the air, a desperate scream of sickening anguish. He bolted.

Harry lurched into the corridor, swaying drunkenly as he tried to regain his focus. He was hit by the acrid smell of smoke ebbing out into the corridors. The noise out here was less harsh, but still the high pitched wailing carried on. All about the castle shouts were bouncing off stone and echoing down corridors, only lending to the confusion.

He had to help. Running in the direction of the fire he passed a group of sixth years going the opposite way, "What happened!" he shouted out above the din.

The group stopped, relieved and thankful to see a familiar, authoritative face.

"We were having a party," one of them explained, his face dirty with soot and sweat, a girl hanging on to his arm as though the contact would keep her safe. "It was for the seventh years, I don't know what happened, but it was everywhere." He coughed harshly, tears in his eyes.

"It's okay," Harry said, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady the poor boy. "Get down to the main entrance, wait outside. And don't come back in!"

The students nodded, grateful to be given an order, and watched as Harry ran off towards where they had come from.

His breaths came in sharp pants, the thin smoke in the air irritating his lungs as he pounded along the flagstones. Further down the corridor the smoke grew thicker until he rounded a corner and was met with a wall of darkness. Quickly he pressed his sleeve to his face, breathing through the cotton in hot, moist breaths. Frantically he searched the smoke for some leeway, but found none.

Through the gloom he heard a cry. He stood stock still, wondering if he had in fact heard it. He slowed his breathing, eyes wider than ever until he heard it again. Without thought he fell to the floor where the smoke was thinner, though not by much. He rushed forward, groping blindly in the dark and straining to hear the voice again.

"Hello!" he shouted, coughing violently at the short amount of time his lungs had been exposed to the fatal air.

"Help!" a young voice cried back, Harry moved towards it, sweeping his hands along the ground as he moved. He rounded the corner of the corridor and felt his way along the wall until he came across a cove where his hand landed on something soft. He gripped it manically in his hand and tugged, pulling a body along with it. He felt around until he was sure he had a firmer grip, pulling them into his arms.

Half crouching, half walking he navigated through the smoke, praying he was going the right way, until the air grew a little lighter. Without care he hefted the student into his arms proper and staggered towards the light, coughing and trying to breathe as little of the air as possible.

Finally he broke free and stumbled a little further on. He fell to his knees and turned all his attention to the body in his arms. It was a young girl, a first year, who was doing her best to cough all the smoke from her chest, eyes stinging and streaming, leaving little clean trails through the dirt on her face.

"You're alright." Harry said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, sitting the girl up and patting her back, "It's alright, just breathe." He carried on, rubbing her now. He wiped at his own eyes and peered back over his shoulder at the thickening black cloud. Suddenly she burst into tears, wild hysterical tears, and she turned and flailed in Harry's arms.

"My brother!" she screamed, her cries turning Harry's stomach and chilling him to the core. He held her back as she tried to crawl out of his lap and toward the fire.

There were footsteps at the other end of the corridor. "Sophie!" Harry turned and saw a bedraggled group of students, all ages and all clinging to each other with a desperate look of horror in their eyes.

The girl in Harry's lap turned. "Ferris!" a boy broke away from the group and ran to where Harry sat; he slid to his knees just as the girl launched herself into his open arms. "Oh god, I thought we lost you." He muttered brokenly into her hair. He looked up at Harry. "There are still more people up there sir." He gasped, holding on tightly to his sister, "I've found all the people I can, but we were close to the door, there were more people in the common room."

Harry nodded, feeling nauseas from the potion and exertion, and utterly afraid for people still behind the smoke. "Okay." He staggered to his feet, head reeling and chest aching. "Get out." He said breathlessly, "Wait outside the entrance, get as many people as you can out." He pushed the girl firmly into the boys grip and steeled himself as he watched them regroup and head for safety.

With a grimace he turned back to the acrid smoke. With sleeve pressed to face and a hand on the wall he plunged back in to that world of darkness, only slight nuances in the way light managed to filter through the dense smoke gave clue as to where he might be going. He passed the cove where he found the girl, his feet catching a little on the slabs and he slid them along the floor to make sure he didn't trip.

There was a sudden rush of wind and a howl unlike anything Harry had heard, he lost his balance and hit the wall hard, sliding along it and grazing his arm as he went. He cast his eyes back in time to see the last whispery traces of one of Hogwarts ghosts round the corner as it too fled the fire.

At least he was going the right way. Up ahead he could hear the distinct dull roar of a fire consuming all it could find, but it wasn't until he neared the end of the corridor, the entrance to Ravenclaw tower common room, that he could hear the individual flickers and cracks as the flames licked the frames and beams on the wall. Harry stood and made his way over to the door. The air here was a little clearer, the heat from the fire pushing the smoke away just as fast as it could create it. He could at least see the door handle as he pushed it open.

The tapestries lining the entrance burned, leading the flames up the wall to stream along the stone ceiling, creating a carpet of fire above Harry's head.

"Sir?"

Harry looked down, through the heat haze and saw a number of students crouched near the entrance, trapped by the fire edging near them in the common room and the flames that stopped them from leaving.

"Just run!" Harry shouted to them, it was stupid he knew, but at least this way they could duck under the flames rather than wait for them to come. The students looked at him as though he was insane. "Run!" Harry shouted again, motioning with his hands to come to him. The girl in front looked behind her at the others who were huddling close to her, backing away from the flames and shielding their faces from the heat. She looked back at Harry and then up at the roaring fire. Again she looked back, taking the hand of the smaller girl hanging on to her skirt. She shouted something that Harry didn't hear and then in a flurry of chaos and movement they were coming, single file, and crouched as low as they could, they hurried through the avenue of fire.

"Keep going!" Harry pointed towards where the air got thick. The girl gave him a desperate look, not wanting to have to go any further on their own. "Go!" he pushed them forward even as they continued to file out, coughing and crying. Obediently they went, disappearing as though through a wall, hand in hand leading each other. Harry hoped they would have the sense to keep their breaths short, knowing that there was no where they could go but out, but still, the darkness was disorientating and they could be trapped in their for quiet a while.

Harry waited until the last of them had struggled through and off into the smoke. He stared back into the common room, ducking as bits of debris fluttered down from the roof; the heat was almost unbearable making his eyes itch and his skin burn. Should he go in, he thought, he didn't want to leave if there were any one else stuck in there. He couldn't stay long, that was for sure. He gasped a breath into his sore and aching lungs, wondering if he stayed here any longer would he make it back out.

Just as he was about to turn and leave he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Another student had made it down from the tower, face red and black, eyes wide despite the heat. Will it ever end, Harry thought miserably. "Come on!" he called to her, begging her in his mind to hurry. His energy was being sapped and the thought of the journey back through the smoke was tormenting him. The girl shook her head, clearly terrified; she stared up at the flames and the little flurries of fire that swirled down through the entrance. Harry heard a loud crack, just above his head and moved out of the way just in time to avoid the swinging pole that held one of the tapestries up. It clattered to the floor, propping itself up against the wall so that it blocked some of the way, flames licking up its entire length to join the ones still running up the wall.

"Now!" Harry shouted, desperate. There was another crack and a thud as one of the paintings in the corridor fell from the wall, its occupant long gone. Harry looked around him, the place was coming down, if they didn't get out of there now, there would be no getting out at all. "Dammit." He swore under his breath, still holding his sleeve to his face, more for protection from the heat now than from the smoke. Biting his lip, Harry lunged forward.

There was a sudden cry from behind him and a tug, pulling him back. Harry turned and found Severus kneeling behind him, soaking wet and with a desperate look on his face.

"What are you doing?" Harry shouted at him, getting back on his feet ready to spring back toward the girl.

"I'll go." He looked past Harry at the tunnel of fire that led through to the common room. He could only just see the girl, crouching in terror by the only corner of the room that wasn't consumed by fire. He idly wondered at the back of his mind how she was still alive.

Harry was too late in his protest and reached out as Severus ran past, ducking the flames and leaping the tapestry bar, he was gone, lost amongst the heat and flames, his name dying on Harry's lips. If Harry hadn't known it was possible for his heart to beat any faster he knew now. Frantically he searched the eddying mass for any sign of trademark black. A strange wind picked up, and Harry figured that the windows must have given in to the heat, allowing the fire to suck in all the air it needed to fuel its destruction. It came whistling down through the stairwells, through the common room and out through the entrance where Harry crouched, waiting for any sign. The wind stirred the flames, lifting them in columns of orange, white and yellow, obscuring everything from view.

And he waited; agonizing seconds as the flames grew higher, heart beating far too fast, making him sick. His eyes watered from the heat and he wiped the tears away with a hot sleeve.

"Come on Severus." He muttered, lips dry and beginning to peel. The thought of going after them entered his head but was shook away as he caught sight of what he was looking for, the two of them were just the other side of the small corridor that served as the entrance, a mere ten feet from Harry, but blocked by the most difficult path. He watched them both, Severus's head down as he spoke to the girl as she screamed and cried and clung to him as though he were the only life line in the world. Finally he must have said something to her to make her see sense because she turned and looked at Harry, an odd, almost calm look on her face. She nodded and climbed down from Severus' lap, on hands and knees like a runner about to start a race. Harry watched as Severus pushed, propelling her into the flames, she came running and screaming, leaping the bar like she's been doing it all her life and stumbling, falling into Harry's outstretched arms. The force of her landing knocked him onto his back, but he didn't care, a sudden relief ran through him, giving him enough energy to stagger to his feet in time to meet Severus as he came dashing out of the fire, his wet clothes steaming and drying even now.

"I'll take her." He gasped, dragging the girl from Harry's arms into his, where she curled, face tucked into his shoulder as he held her tightly. Harry nodded, thankful as he doubted he'd be able to carry her for long, all his life seemed to be draining away, each breath hurt more then the last and his eyes could barely see anymore.

"Let's go."

Severus grabbed his wrist and pulled him along after himself, back towards the hellish nightmare of confusion and disorientation, more dangerous now because of how weak they were. Together they walked in an unsteady line, edging further away from the immediate danger, walking knowingly into another. And darkness surrounded them, so sudden and so thick it was just as though they had been blindfolded. The grip on Harry's wrist tightened and pulled with more insistence, dragging him along an uncertain path. Harry's head was reeling, thudding and swaying, threatening to make him fall. He was glad for the anchor, sure that without it he would have been lost the moment he'd stepped into the roiling mass. He coughed hard, smoke finding its way into his lungs when his arm became too tired to hold itself up to his face. He stumbled a little, catching his stride again and surging forward, head lolling as though he were drunk. He shut his watering eyes against the smoke, he had no need for them anyway, but this only made them sting more, washing the acrid air further into them, making them tear again so that heavy trails marked his cheeks.

They had to be close, they just had to be. Each step was getting harder and harder, his legs and arms heavy weights attached to his body. He stumbled again, falling to his knees. That blessed second of rest seemed to Harry to be the sweetest moment of his life until that hand pulled him back up, persuaded him to move. A quiet sob escaped from Harry's mouth as he trudged onwards, the sound of the fire still behind him. "I can't." he whispered. But no one heard him.

It had been hours, he was sure of it, since he'd entered the fire, his body weary, aching, bloody and bruised. Each tiny mark upon him screamed at his senses, burned all the more in the absence of heat. He was so tired, head aching as it tried to sleep. All he could taste, all he could smell was this accursed smoke, it was in his pores, choking him in every way. He felt as though he was going to burst, his lungs crying out for air, convulsing in a last effort to force some oxygen into his veins. His feet caught the edge of one of the flagstones and he stumbled again, grazing his already wounded knees, but this time, there was no getting back up. His body fell sideways, the grip on his wrist slipping to his hand, his life line literally falling through his fingers.

And finally he was resting, his broken body on the cool stone floor, encased in darkness. It was utter perfection, a just reward for what he'd done. He heard someone shout his name, but it was through a different kind of fog, one that sat and clouded his mind. He felt the vibrations of footsteps and then there was silence. He could sleep now, he knew it. If he'd had more strength, he was sure there would have been a hint of a smile upon his face as he let himself fall into the peaceful world of night. His breaths shallow, with little air.

He was dying.

"No!" what little reserves he had left made him roll over, had punched through the thick wall around his senses. He was not going to die, not here and not now, not after saving those people. He wanted to know things, he wanted to live his life again, he hadn't tried this hard just to give up now. But his body wouldn't obey; his arms just shuddered as he tried to lift himself, all strength gone. He tried to shout, but all that escaped was a throaty whisper, he tried again, but to no avail. He began to roll but was stopped, a heavy hand on his shoulder, gripping his shirt and pulling, finding his arm in an iron grip. There was movement, a sudden sickening roll and then he was being lifted, his body draped around broad shoulders, cheek pressing against a warm arm as he was carried away.

He was lost in relief, felt the air change around them as the smoke thinned, heard more human noises, footsteps, shouts and cries and then finally, cold, sweet, fresh air. He tried to breath in a lungful, but his body was still too weak, instead, he savoured the sweet smell of it, revelling in the delight of something so pure and taken for granted.

He was being jostled about; several pairs of hands were upon him as he was lifted down from the shoulders onto the shockingly cold grass. He made a grateful noise, the cold dew soaking through his thin t shirt to his burned skin.

"Harry." There was his name again, closer this time, and a hand on his face. Could he bear to open his eyes? They fluttered open anyway, soft focusing on the towering objects around him. He squinted his eyes, trying to see the people crowding him. He coughed, his lungs burning at the vicious movement. He tried to sit but they held him back down.

"Everyone out?" he finally managed to ask, his voice sounded like gravel on sandpaper and it tore at his throat to speak. Minerva sighed in relief at his side and patted his head, looking as though she'd be overcome with emotion at any moment.

"Yes, m'boy, they're all out, and the services are on their way."

Harry turned his head and gazed over at the castle as it consumed itself. Hundreds of students littered the lawn, shivering in their dressing gowns and pyjamas as they cried and hugged each other. He coughed again and rolled onto his side so that he could breathe easier, every muscle in his body protested.

"Now now Mr Potter, just you stay still while I take a look at you." He groaned as Pomrefy pulled him back over. She prodded him and said a spell that made him cough so much he thought he'd never breath again. She turned away and muttered to Minerva who looked at him with a worried maternal face.

"Okay Harry" she was very nearly shouting at him, using her special 'you've injured yourself so you must be stupid' voice, "We need to move you now, we're going to take you to St Mungo's."

Harry's head reeled, he wasn't that bad was he, okay he'd inhaled some smoke but give him five minutes and he'd be okay. Pomfrey seemed to think otherwise and waved over to someone, it turning out to be the wizarding worlds equivalent of paramedics, who had been tending to the children since they'd apparated in minutes ago. They hurried over, followed buy a bunch of men wearing what could only be described as space suits who carried on running up to the castle.

The men were quick and efficient, leaving an already confused Harry reeling and angry, which only made him cough harder, making him feel as though he would lose a chunk of lung very soon.

"Wait," he rasped out, "Severus."

But no one was listening, anxiously he craned his neck, looking for the man who'd saved his life. No matter what had transpired between them he needed to thank him, needed to say sorry that he didn't listen to his advice. He wanted to shout, wanted to stay but they were tucking a blanket around his body, making him claustrophobic and hot, making his skin burn even more. "No," he gasped, "Sev…"

They were carrying him away from the castle, to a safer apparition point. "No," he tried to protest again. Minerva was at his side telling him not to worry, that they were going to heal him. But he didn't care.

"Severus." He whispered again, looking at her for an answer.

She stopped briefly, looking a little shocked. "Wait!"

The men carrying the gurney stopped, jolting Harry. He noticed with horror that she was looking from Harry to the castle. "He went in to get you." She said, her voice strangely empty. Harry nodded his head.

"Lost …in..smoke." he choked out, "Carried me."

She looked back at the castle, her eyes conveying the thoughts behind her eyes, Harry wanted to ask her, was near frantic inside. What! She looked back at him and shook her head, eyes wide.

"No." she looked as though she would faint, "Alex carried you out." She took a step back, hand to her mouth, and a split second later she'd turned and was running, screaming at the top her lungs, towards the castle, guards stopping her. The gurney stumbled into life again and began to move away.

"No!" Harry tied to shout, he was still in there, he twisted and turned, writhing around, trying hard to get to his feet. He had to go back. Severus had gone into the fire to get him, and now he was lost, in that same plague of smoke and fire that had very nearly killed him. He coughed, the little air that reached his lungs wasn't enough, the convulsions in his chest made his eyes water, his head ache. Something was placed over his face and he looked up wildly to see one of the paramedics holding a mask. And then everything became a little foggy, his body heavy, and he fell fast, heart racing as he pictured Severus, body strewn as he lay dying. And how it was his fault.