A/N: I'm so sorry this is so late! It's been... a week. I'm exhausted, honestly, but I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please forgive any typos, I'm falling asleep as I type this. I'll edit everything in the morning. I just really wanted to get this out on May 22, at least in Pacific Standard Time. Thank you all for being so understanding with me, love you! Without any further ado... Chapter 153. Buckle up!

~

HARRY:

I knew Lucy was nervous about returning to the Room of Requirement for the first time since the full moon, so the two of us headed down earlier than usual for the last D.A. meeting before the Christmas holidays. She was silent as we walked down there, fiddling with her sling more than usual, but as soon as we opened the door, her anxiety seemed to, for the most part, vanish.

"Now this," Lucy said, a slow grin spreading across her face, "is perfect."

I blinked, face flaming. "Thank Merlin we got here early."

"Why? You aren't planning on taking this down, are you?"

"Of course I am," I spluttered.

"Aw, Harry, Dobby must have worked so hard on it."

"You didn't help him, did you?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and held up her sling. "As much as I would have loved to help with a masterpiece such as this..."

Dobby had decorated the Room of Requirement for us. Massive golden ornaments with my face hung down from the ceiling, and there were banners reading "HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS" on every wall.

"How early are we?" I asked. "How much time do we have to tear this down?"

"We?" Lucy repeated, lifting her sling again.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Right. How much time do I have to tear this down?"

"Not enough, Harry James. You're just going to have to leave it all up for the meeting."

I knew from her amused tone, though, that Lucy was enjoying this far too much. She was trying too hard not to laugh.

"Not an option, Lucy Harper."

"You know, I actually don't hate that one."

"Neither do I." I frowned suddenly. "Wait, how will we do our handshake before the meeting? We both need both hands for that."

"It's not the end of the world if we miss one," she replied, her voice light, still distracted by Dobby's decorations.

I tore my eyes away from her and looked around. "Dear Merlin. Er..." I pointed my wand at one of the ribbons holding an ornament. "Diffindo!"

It dropped easily into my arms, and I vanished it a second later. I did the same for five more as Lucy watched. I almost asked her if she could throw her wand across the room and vanish everything the same way she'd thrown her wand over the side of the hill and somehow conjured a storm, but I decided against it. We hadn't spoken about anything from those couple of days — not the storm, not the ropes, not whatever boats she had deliriously mentioned to Hagrid. I assumed she was keeping me out on purpose, and probably with good reason. I still wanted to help, obviously, more than anything, but I knew by then that pushing Lucy when she didn't want to talk only forced her deeper into her shell rather than coaxing her out, so I didn't push her.

I returned to my diffindo-evanesco routine, and I had nearly vanished all of them when I heard Lucy groan.

"Everything alright?" I asked, whirling around, worried her shoulder was bothering her again.

"Dobby put one up for me too," she said in response. She was staring at one of the ornaments closest to the training dummies.

I joined her and immediately began cracking up. "'Happy ho-Lucy-days' has a nice ring to it!"

"I prefer 'Harry Christmas.'" Lucy's face was a bright red. "You can take that one down next."

"Oh no, I think I'll leave that one up," I replied, walking away.

"Harry!" she protested. "Harryyy!"

I pretended not to hear her as I took down another ornament and started pulling one of the banners off the wall, whistling something I vaguely remembered from The Nutcracker ballet as I went.

I was interrupted, though, by the sound of glass shattering.

I whirled around again, this time to see Lucy standing with her arm shielding her face. The incriminating ornament had been smashed to pieces, and golden glass littered the floor around her feet. As if in slow motion, the ribbon that had been holding it up drifted down and came to rest on top of the pile, tying itself into a bow as it went.

"Well now you're just mocking me," Lucy muttered. She glared at the mess in front of her. "You couldn't have just vanished it?" Everything remained exactly in place. A broom and dustpan appeared to her right. Lucy sighed. "You do realize I only have one arm, right? I realize that's my fault and not yours, but..." The broom and dustpan disappeared, and Lucy sighed again.

"Do you want help?" I asked after a moment, walking over to where she was standing.

She shook her head. "I wonder if... if I try to..." Lucy extended her good hand, shaky though it was, brow furrowed in concentration, and just like that, everything vanished. She jumped back and pulled her hand to her chest. She looked at me with wide eyes. "I didn't think that would work."

Before either of us could say anything further about it, the door opened behind us, and we both turned around just as Luna walked in.

Luna glanced around at the couple of decorations still up and smiled. "Hello! These are nice! Did you put them up?"

"Er, no, it was Dobby, the house elf," I explained. "We were just taking everything down."

Luna's eyes drifted upward, above our heads, and she pointed. "Mistletoe."

Lucy and I launched ourselves in opposite directions, looking up in the direction Luna had pointed. Surely enough, mistletoe hovered just above where we had been standing a second prior. A quick glance around the room revealed that other patches of mistletoe were growing, too, so Lucy and I exchanged a look and grinned.

"Good thinking, it's often infested with nargles," Luna said.

"Have you seen nargles before, Luna?" Lucy asked to keep her occupied as I hurried around the room vanishing everything else with my face on it. Thankfully, I finished before anyone else arrived, and the meeting was ready to begin.

Lucy bumped her good shoulder against me as we headed to the front of the room. "Don't make me save you from a Stunning Spell tonight, Potter."

"I thought you were just going to let it hit me," I replied.

"That can be arranged."

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about the vanishing act you performed earlier?"

"Not at all."

"Alright." I turned to face the room. "Okay! Hi, everyone. We thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break—"

Zacharias interrupted, "We're not doing anything new? If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry they didn't tell you, then," Fred retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Everyone laughed, but Cho's in particular carried. I felt unusual butterflies in my stomach that stopped me from speaking, so Lucy took over.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but that's tonight's plan," she said. "I'll set up the cushions so we can try stunning in about ten minutes. In the meantime, everyone partner up and get impeding!"

Archie jumped to his feet and saluted her with a grin. "Sure thing, Lancelot."

That prompted a lot of laughter from the room — some genuinely amused, some more sinister — but Lucy didn't seem to mind the new nickname, so I didn't say anything about it. I offered to help Lucy with the cushions, but she shook her head and hurried off, so I settled for wingardium leviosa-ing a couple of cushions into place when her back was turned. Everyone was doing well with the Impediment Jinx at that point, so I didn't need to offer very many tips. Stunning was a bit less successful, resulting in a couple of minor bumps and bruises, but it was far better than the first attempt, for which Lucy and I were both grateful.

Lucy let me help gather the cushions back up after the meeting, for which I was glad, but I knew it was only because she wasn't feeling great. Her eyes were distant. The incident with the shattered ornament had shaken her.

"Do you want to wait to debrief until tomorrow morning?" I asked under my breath as we stacked the last cushion.

She nodded. "Since we won't meet again for almost a month anyway..."

"Exactly. You can go back, get a bit of rest."

She nodded again. Fortunately, there were a lot of people left in the room — the Expelliarmus game had gotten more and more competitive with time — so she was able to slip away without anyone stopping her.

"Oi, Harry, you should join!" Dean called when he realized the cushions were stacked and I wasn't busy talking to Lucy.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't want the unfair advantage of joining the game later."

"Come on, mate!" Ron shouted as he sprinted past me. "Just for fun!"

I grinned and drew my wand. "Alright."

I disarmed Hermione quickly, then ducked behind a bookshelf before Ginny could fire one off in retribution. I crept forward bit by bit, straining my ears for any sign of an opponent nearby, but to my surprise, I found not an opponent, but Cho standing in front of the bulletin board, which had been moved to the back of the room for stunning practice, wand useless on the ground beside her.

A shout from behind me of "Expelliarmus!" followed by a triumphant whoop.

I turned to see Ron grinning as my wand flew into his hand.

I took my wand back, gesturing over my shoulder at Cho. "I was a bit distracted," I muttered, "but well done, mate."

Ron's eyes widened. "Oh. Well, in that case, I'll make sure no one bothers you two."

"It's alright, I don't want to bother her," I whispered. I glanced over his shoulder just as Ginny approached. "Look out!"

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted, but Ron managed to cling to his wand. He whirled around and charged after her, and I followed, thoroughly entertained by the chase. Soon enough, it was down to just the four Weasleys, then just the twins and Ron, then just Fred and Ron. Fred ultimately won, but it was quite the battle. Hermione and I cheered for Ron, and Ginny and George cheered for Fred, and for a moment, I found myself wondering if that was what it felt like to have siblings. Rivalry and competition, but fun and love and support anyway.

Everyone started to head toward the door, but I realized I hadn't seen Cho leave.

"I'm going to stay here for a bit," I said quickly. "I'll catch up with you all in a bit."

Ron started to protest, but Hermione grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out with the others.

Once the door closed, I started to head back. "Cho? Are you still here?"

A loud sniffle was my only response. Dread settled in my stomach, but I kept walking in her direction.

She turned to face me, tears pouring down her face. I slowed to a stop, at a complete loss.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I'm sorry. I suppose... it's just... learning all this stuff... it just makes me... wonder whether... if he'd known it all? Would he still be alive?"

Something like annoyance flared in me. It wasn't fair, I knew it wasn't, but — of course she only wanted to talk about Cedric. Her assumption that Cedric didn't know all of this annoyed me, too.

"He did know this stuff. He was really good at it, or he could never have got to the middle of that maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance." I intentionally kept my voice as flat as possible. I felt a bit flat, too, like a balloon deflating.

"You survived when you were just a baby," she replied.

"Yeah, well, I don't know why, nor does anyone else." And if I could trade spots with Cedric, I would. "It's nothing to be proud of."

I started to turn toward the door, wanting nothing more than to escape this horrible conversation, but she called out after me.

"Oh don't go! I'm really sorry to get all upset like this." Her voice cracked. I turned back around. "I didn't mean to... to..." She swallowed hard, wiping her tear-stained cheeks again. "I know it must be horrible for you, me mentioning Cedric when you saw him die. I suppose you just want to forget about it."

"It wouldn't change the fact it happened," I said slowly, shrugging. "I just... have to do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again, so I'm trying."

Cho smiled. "You're a r-really good teacher, you know. I've never been able to stun anything before."

"Thanks."

A long moment passed. Cho really was pretty, even when she was miserable.

Suddenly, she was moving closer. It felt as if I'd been stunned, or an Impediment Jinx had been placed on me. I couldn't move.

She glanced up and smiled. "Mistletoe."

Suddenly, she was so close I could smell her rose perfume.

I jumped back. No. No no no. This is wrong.

Cho blinked, looking surprised and hurt.

I scrambled to find an explanation I didn't have. I'd jumped away from Lucy, too. I wanted to burn all of the mistletoe in the world to the ground. I couldn't explain my panic. I did my best.

"It's probably full of nargles," I said.

"What are nargles?" she asked, blinking again. Looking more confused than hurt. Progress, I supposed.

"No idea. You'd have to ask Luna. She mentioned it earlier, when Lucy and I were under the mistletoe."

Cho blinked a third time. "You kissed Lucy under the mistletoe before the meeting?"

"What? No, no, we both jumped out from under it." Merlin, I'm making a mess of this— "We both jumped, and Luna said it was good we did because mistletoe has nargles and I'm not sure what they are so I'd rather not find out the hard way."

Lucy would have laughed at that. Cho didn't. She still looked upset.

I was really making a mess of it.

"Right," she said in a small voice. "Well, I — I guess I should be heading back to my common room."

"Right."

Neither of us moved for a moment. Then, she stepped closer to me.

I backed up and headed toward the door. I heard her footsteps follow me a second later. Once we slipped out of the Room of Requirement, I turned to her.

"Well... I'll see you sometime, I suppose," I said, my own awkwardness eating me up from the inside out. It was never this hard with Lucy.

Cho stared at me for a moment. Waiting for something. I wasn't sure what. I reached forward and patted her on the shoulder, hoping that would help. But then she spun on her heel and hurried off crying.

"Wait, Cho!" I called after her.

She spun around. "Yes?"

"D-Don't cry," I said, scrambling for something to make this better. "I, er—" I opened my arms for a hug, if she wanted it. "It's okay."

Cho ran toward me, and just like that, she was crying into my shoulder. That had happened a number of times with Lucy, but Cho's tears were different. I wasn't entirely sure why they were there. Her cries were higher-pitched, and they echoed off the stone in a way that hurt my ears. She didn't hold tightly to me the way Lucy did — I had to hold onto her to keep her upright. Finally, her tears began to dry, all without a word of explanation.

"Well, er, I'll see you around," I said.

Cho nodded. Then, suddenly, she popped onto her toes and kissed my cheek. "Good night, Harry."

I was stunned for a second. She dropped so her feet were flat on the ground again. She looked up at me expectantly.

"Good night," I replied, nodding.

Her eyes filled with tears again, but instead of crying, she spun on her heel and hurried away.

I blinked.

Did that really just happen?

I eventually crawled through the portrait hole, very confused and upset by everything that had taken place with Cho. Ron and Hermione were in front of the fire, Ron working on homework and Hermione writing a very long letter. I landed on the rug next to Ron and stared blankly over Hermione's shoulder, still in something of a daze.

"What kept you?" Ron asked. "You were gone almost half an hour."

I couldn't bring myself to answer.

Did that really just happen?

Hermione set her letter aside and fixed me with an intense look. "Are you alright, Harry?"

I shrugged.

Ron tossed his homework behind him and inched closer. "What's up? What happened?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out.

DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN?

"Is it Cho? Did she corner you after the meeting?" Hermione asked.

I nodded.

Ron's eyes widened. "What — er — what did she want?"

"She — we — er —" I couldn't string two words together. "I—"

"Did you kiss?" Hermione asked.

"What? No," I spluttered. "Well, I — I didn't — we — she kissed me on the cheek as we said good night, and, well, we were under the mistletoe for a moment, but I panicked the same way I did with Lucy and —"

Ron's eyes widened even more. "You and Lucy were under the mistletoe?"

"Before the meeting," I added hastily, "we didn't even notice until Luna pointed it out, and then we both jumped away, and then Luna said something about nargles which is what I repeated to Cho after I jumped away and she didn't and — and then we headed back to our common rooms but then she started crying and then before we went our separate ways, she kissed me on the cheek and stared at me for a bit and looked like she was going to cry again and then walked away."

"Was your cheek that awful to kiss?" Ron asked with a snicker.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Apparently."

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not. Cho spends half her time crying these days. She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place."

"So why would she cry after kissing Harry?" Ron burst out.

"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" Hermione asked. When Ron and I shook our heads in response, she sighed. "Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."

Ron huffed. "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."

"Lucy's managed just fine with even more than that," Hermione muttered. "Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't
mean we all have."

"She was the one who kissed me," I stammered, finally finding my voice. "I wouldn't've — I didn't — she just sort of came at me — and then she just stared at me before running off crying again — oh bloody hell, she wanted me to kiss her back, I didn't think —"

"It's alright, mate, can't blame you, sounds like it came out of nowhere," Ron said.

"All you had to do was be nice to her," Hermione assured me. "You were, weren't you?"

"I patted her on the shoulder. I didn't know what else to do, I didn't even think about kissing her back—"

Hermione sighed. "Well, I suppose it could have been worse. Are you going to see her again?"

"I'll have to, at D.A. meetings."

"You know what I mean."

I do, but does Cho want that? Does Cho want ME? I mean, yes, she kissed me on the cheek, which has never happened to me before as far as I can remember, but maybe she does that whenever she's alone with someone. Oh Merlin, who am I kidding? If she wanted me to kiss her back, she must fancy me—

Hermione reached for her letter again. "Oh well, you'll have plenty of opportunities to ask her."

Ron looked from Hermione to me. "What if he doesn't want to ask her?"

"Don't be silly, Harry's liked her for ages. Haven't you, Harry?"

I nodded, but something felt wrong. I wanted Cho to be happy with me, not crying all over me. I felt like I only reminded her of her former boyfriend, since I had been there when he died. I felt like I was only a replacement Cedric, and a terrible replacement at that.

"Who're you writing a novel to, Hermione?" Ron asked, clearly sensing my discomfort and wanting to help change the topic.

"Viktor," she replied without looking up.

"Krum?"

"How many other Viktors do we know?"

Ron rolled his eyes and returned to his homework. Hermione continued writing in silence. I laid back against the rug and stared at the ceiling, mind still spinning with everything that had happened that night. Some time later, Hermione finished her letter and rolled it up.

"He wrote Lucy, and she asked me if I wanted to write something she could send along with her reply, if you must know," she said with a huff. "Good night."

"Night," we replied as she left to head up the stairs.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Ron sighed. "What does she see in Krum?"

I shrugged. "Well, I suppose he's older, and he's an international Quidditch player."

"Yeah, but apart from that. I mean, he's a grouchy git, isn't he?"

I shrugged again. "I suppose."

It was still fairly early in the night all things considered, but my mind felt like mush, dizzying and confusing mush, so I said good night to Ron and made my way up to the dormitory.

As I fell asleep, my thoughts were entirely of Cho. Maybe next time we were alone, I wouldn't be so caught off-guard, and I would kiss her cheek too. Or her lips. Maybe I would even ask her out. I wasn't sure what she had wanted from me, but I wanted to try to give it to her, if I could. After all, she was nice, and pretty, and smart, and loved Quidditch. And... I had been there when her boyfriend died. Maybe I could try to make it up to her, somehow.

~

Eventually, I fell asleep. My dream was odd. Cho was in front of me, animated and alive and talking to me about Quidditch, but just over her shoulder was Cedric's lifeless form. She couldn't see him, she didn't seem to know he was there, but I could. I did. I tried to listen to Cho and focus on her, really I did, but the longer the dream went on, the more Cho faded and the more pronounced Cedric's corpse became.

Then, my dream shifted.

I was roaming through dark hallways, the smooth stone cold beneath my stomach as I glided easily through the unusual place.

There, at the end of one hallway, was a man sitting on the ground. A guard, from the looks of it, sleeping on the job. I extended my tongue to the air, and oh, how I wanted to bite him, but I knew I couldn't. I had to wait, I had something more important to do.

But then the man opened his eyes. He jumped to his feet, and drew a wand.

My more important job would have to wait. I had to kill him.

I extended myself upward, lunging at the man and biting every place I could reach. Over and over, until his blood pooled on the floor and he fell silent.

My forehead was killing me. I thought my head would split open.

"HARRY! HARRY!"

I was in my dormitory again. My sheets were tied so tightly around me I couldn't breathe. My head was going to explode.

"HARRY!"

Four figures swam in my vision. Ron, in front of me, and Neville and Dean and Seamus at the foot of my bed. I grabbed my head, the pain mounting even though I was awake. I couldn't help but vomit on the ground beside my bed.

"He's really ill. Should we call someone?" someone asked.

I pushed myself up, trying to force myself to breathe and not vomit again. I had to tell Ron, I had to tell Ron his dad was hurt.

"Ron, your dad... your dad, he's been attacked."

"What?" he asked, blinking at me and shaking his head in disbelief.

I pressed on. He had to listen, he had to know. "He's been bitten, it's horrible, there was blood everywhere—"

"I'm going to get help," the first voice said, and I heard footsteps leaving the dormitory.

Ron was still shaking his head. "Harry, mate, you... you were just dreaming..."

"No! It wasn't a dream, not an ordinary dream. I was there, I saw it... I... I did it..."

I almost vomited again, still feeling feverish and shaky, and Ron jumped out of the way.

Just as soon as he did, though, the door to the dormitory burst open, and an angel rushed across the room, stripping off her sling as she sprinted forward.

"Harry," Lucy breathed, and just like that, she was all that I could see, in perfect clarity even without my glasses. "You're okay, you're okay." Her gentle hands pushed my sweaty hair back from my forehead. "What happened?"

"He's sick, Lucy, he just had a dream—" Ron started to say, but this was wrong.

I shook my head. I held Lucy's gaze. She would believe me even if no one else in the world did. "I'm fine, there's nothing wrong with me, it's Mr. Weasley we need to — we need to find out where he is, there — he's bleeding like mad and I was — it was a huge snake and — and —"

"Okay." Lucy nodded. "Okay. Neville went to get Professor McGonagall. Once they get up here, we can figure out what to do next." She brushed my hair back. She inhaled slowly, shakily, then closed her eyes, letting her palm rest on my forehead for a fraction of a second. More of the pain and sickness disappeared. Lucy opened her eyes after another fraction of a second, biting her lip. She pushed my hair the rest of the way back, as if nothing had happened, and reached for my glasses. "Here."

"Thanks," I said, still heaving for breath as my shaky hands managed to place them on my face.

She nodded. Her eyes didn't leave mine. Whereas Lucy had been distant earlier, in her eyes if nowhere else, she was there, all there, in that moment.

"Just breathe," she whispered.

She inhaled slowly, deliberately. I followed suit. Again, and again.

And for a moment, the world slowed.

"Over here, Professor," came a scared voice.

Lucy jumped up, vanishing the vomit with a flick of her wand, and stood next to Ron so she wasn't in between me and the door.

Neville had returned.

Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, and I'd honestly never been more glad to see her. An Order of the Phoenix member. Someone who could do something about this.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?" she asked, glasses askew on her face.

"It's Ron's dad. He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "What do you mean, you saw it happen?"

"I don't know, I was asleep and then I was there."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No! I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid, and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it, Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is!" When the room was completely silent, I pushed myself higher up on the bed. "I'm not lying, and I'm not mad! I'm telling you, I saw it happen!"

Professor McGonagall nodded once, firmly. "I believe you, Potter. Put on your dressing-gown — we're going to see the headmaster."

"Accio," Lucy muttered, and my dressing-gown flew into her hand. She passed it to me and hauled me to my feet in the same motion.

"Weasley, you ought to come too," Professor McGonagall said. "You too, Lucy."

They nodded, and the four of us hurried from the dormitory.

"Lucy, how in Merlin's name did you get up there so fast?" Ron asked as we entered the common room. "How did you even...?"

"I was asleep in the common room when Neville burst in saying Harry was sick and delirious and he thought I'd be able to help while he ran to find Professor McGonagall."

He held up her sling, which he had apparently retrieved from the floor of the dormitory before we left. "And don't you need this?"

She took it, crumpled it into a ball, and shoved it in her pocket.

"Thanks for grabbing that, but I don't think I need it anymore." Lucy slipped her hand into mine, left into right, and rubbed her thumb against mine. "It was just holding me back."

We hurried in silence through the corridors all the way to Dumbledore's office. Anxiety pressed down on my chest and made it hard to breathe, but I tried to focus on the steady cadence of Lucy's thumb moving against mine. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Finally, finally, finally, we reached Dumbledore's office. He was in a dressing-gown, but he seemed wide awake.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall, and... ah."

Professor McGonagall straightened up. "Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare. He says—"

"It wasn't a nightmare."

Lucy's hand slipped out of mine, but she kept her forearm pressed to mine. "Tell him about it, Harry. It's alright."

I inhaled slowly. I felt a flare of annoyance, because Dumbledore wasn't looking at me, but at his hands, but I pressed on. Mr. Weasley's life depended on it. "I... well, I was asleep, but it wasn't an ordinary dream, it was real, I saw it happen. Ron's dad — Mr. Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."

It sounded so ridiculous, so small in the massive room. This was met with complete silence. Solemn silence. Contemplative silence.

For the first time, Ron seemed to believe me. The longer the silence was, the paler he became. He glanced at me, terrified, just before Dumbledore spoke again.

"How did you see this?" he asked. He still didn't look at me.

"Well... I don't know. Inside my head, I suppose—"

"You misunderstand me. I mean, can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"

I blinked. It was a leading question. How did he know? Still, I answered honestly. "I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

"Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes."

Finally, finally, finally, Dumbledore sprang into action. He began talking to the portraits, giving them orders. He explained to us that the most renowned wizard portraits could be hung in multiple institutions, and the people within could go back and forth. None of this was terribly important to me, though, because Mr. Weasley was my only concern.

"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" I protested.

He ignored me. "Please sit down, all four of you. Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes. Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs."

Four wooden chairs appeared with a flick of her wand, and I sank into one. Lucy planted herself firmly between Ron and me, her entire frame rigid. Her shoulders had the determined set they had when she squared up against a training dummy, and her hands were closed into fists on her knees. Ron coughed into his elbow, and it sounded almost like an attempt to choke back a sob, so Lucy reached out her right hand. He accepted it readily, and she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, asking a silent question. The answer was yes. I let her slip her hand into mine, her left in my right, and returned my attention to Dumbledore, who was now fiddling with a couple of the many, many instruments on his desk.

Everard returned a few minutes later. "I yelled until someone came running, said I'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check — you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left—"

Ron jerked. Lucy's hand around his didn't waver.

Dumbledore didn't notice. "Good, I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then."

Surely enough, she burst into her portrait a moment later. "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore. They carried him past under my portrait, he looks bad."

Ron jerked again. Lucy still did not waver.

"Thank you." Dumbledore turned around. "Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."

She nodded. "Oh, and Dumbledore — what about Molly?"

"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching, but she may already know with that excellent clock of hers."

I was familiar, so familiar with that clock. Surely Mr. Weasley's spoon would be at mortal peril. But it was late, and she was probably asleep, and...

Dumbledore hauled an old kettle onto his desk and pointed his wand at it. "Portus."

For the first time all night, Lucy faltered. Her grip slackened, but only for a second. By the time I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, her defenses were back in place, but something about that had really shaken her.

Before I could wonder what was wrong, the other three Weasleys at Hogwarts hurried into the room. Lucy jumped up, wrapping her arms around herself.

George looked at me with wide eyes. "Harry, what happened? Professor McGonagall said you saw—"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore interrupted. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How're we going? Floo powder?" Fred asked.

"No, Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He turned to a portrait of a sleeping wizard wearing the distinctive green and silver of Slytherin. "Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"

The portrait finally opened its eyes. "Did someone call?"

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas, I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait? Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight."

The other portraits that were awake immediately erupted, shouting about insubordination and dishonor until the portrait of Phineas relented.

"Oh, very well, though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family—"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait. You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

"And Lucy," Ginny added in a small voice. "She's family too."

Dumbledore looked meaningfully at Lucy before turning back to the portrait. "His wife, children, Harry Potter, and Lucy Diggory will be arriving. Understood?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter and Lucy Diggory coming to stay, yes, yes, very well."

And with that, Phineas slipped out of his portrait, and heavy silence descended on the room. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, everyone's except Dumbledore's still, but I couldn't bring myself to meet any of them.

"So how are we getting to Sirius's house?" Fred asked again.

"You will be taking a Portkey," Dumbledore replied, gesturing to the kettle on his desk.

Oh. Oh Merlin.

Lucy's reaction suddenly made sense. Cedric. Portkeys. The graveyard.

I felt sick all over again.

I hesitantly looked up at Lucy, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring at the kettle, her face pale and her shoulders tense.

Before I could think of something, anything I could do to help her feel better, to help anyone feel better, there was a flash of flame and a gold feather drifted onto Dumbledore's desk.

He looked at Professor McGonagall. "That is Fawkes's warning. She must know you're out of your beds. Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story—"

Professor McGonagall nodded and disappeared just as Phineas returned.

"He says he'll be delighted. My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests."

Dumbledore waved us all over to his desk. "Come here, then, and quickly, before anyone else joins us. You have all used a Portkey before?"

We all nodded. I positioned myself next to Lucy, whose hand trembled violently as she reached for the kettle.

"Good. On the count of three, then. One... two..."

Time screeched to a halt before he said "three."

For the first time in a long time, I met Dumbledore's eyes. Hatred like I had never known exploded within me, making my scar burn anew, and if I had been the snake, I surely would have bitten him and left him off far worse than Mr. Weasley.

It was truly terrifying.

Then, finally, "three" whooshed past my ears, and we were sucked up into the vortex of the Portkey. We landed in the middle of the kitchen, all stunned and shaken.

Kreacher was there first. "Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying?"

"OUT!" Sirius bellowed, hurrying into the kitchen. He hadn't shaved in a while, and he was still in his daytime robes. His tone shifted completely as he surveyed the new "houseguests" that had appeared in his kitchen. "What's going on? Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured—"

"Ask Harry," Fred said with a shrug, glancing at me.

George nodded. "Yeah, I want to hear this for myself."

So I repeated the story, editing a couple of the details so it sounded like I was a bystander rather than the actual snake. Ron looked at me, but didn't say anything about it. Lucy was in the corner of the room, staring determinedly at the ground, her shoulders slumping a bit, not wanting to look at anyone or attract anyone's attention.

As soon as the story was over, Fred turned to Sirius and crossed his arms over his chest. "Is Mum here?"

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet. The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's. Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?" Ginny asked.

He shook his head incredulously. "Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!"

Fred scowled. "'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want, he's our dad!"

"But how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?" Sirius countered.

"What does that matter?" George asked desperately.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away! Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

Ginny tried to find an answer, her voice now very high and fragile. "Somebody else could have told us, we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry..."

"Like who? Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's—"

Fred slapped a hand to his forehead. "We don't care about the bloody Order!"

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George snapped.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order! This is how it is — this is why you're not in the Order — you don't understand — there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here! I don't see you risking your neck!" Fred shouted.

To my surprise, Sirius kept his cool. "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, alright?"

Another heavy silence fell. Ginny sat down, and so did Ron. I followed suit, and the twins eventually sat down on either side of Ginny. I was just about to ask where Lucy was when she appeared in the doorway with an armful of blankets.

"Oh, Cub, you shouldn't be—" George whipped his wand out and summoned half of the blankets as Fred wrapped one around Ginny's shoulders. "Where in Merlin's name is your sling?"

"I don't need it anymore," she replied lightly, setting the rest of the blankets in a pile at the end of the table. "I just — I remember being really cold the night Cedric — I thought the blankets would help."

"Butterbeer wouldn't hurt, either," Sirius added, and with a flick of his wand, seven bottles landed on the table.

I managed a sip, but my stomach was churning. Everything was spinning. Grief, confusion, guilt, catastrophe. It was all my fault. The pale faces around the table, the horrible fate of Mr. Weasley, all of the unknowns, everything was my fault.

I had been the snake. I had attacked Mr. Weasley. Somehow. Somehow. Somehow. Everything was all my fault.

Don't be stupid, you haven't got fangs. You were lying in bed, you weren't attacking anyone.

But then what just happened in Dumbledore's office? I felt like I wanted to attack Dumbledore too, for a moment—

I was jerked from my thoughts by another flash of flame and golden feather. A piece of parchment fluttered to the table, too.

Sirius lunged for the parchment. "Fawkes! That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must be a message from your mother — here—"

George took the note and read it aloud. "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.'" His hands trembled as he lowered the note. "Still alive... that... that makes it sound..."

"It means there's hope," Lucy said, her voice so small and soft we nearly missed it. She wasn't looking at anyone. Her eyes were fixed on the single candle flickering on the table. "I think when it's most important to hold onto hope when it feels the hardest to do so."

Coming from Lucy... that meant something. Lucy, of all people. Lucy Everlin, Lucy Diggory, Lucy who lost everything.

No. Not everything. Not her hope.

Never once had Lucy lost her hope.

Lucy's eyes met mine, blue and constant and hopeful as the skies above. She looked around at everyone else, too, then blushed a bit and looked back at me.

I gestured toward the empty chair to my left. She grabbed a large blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her knees to her chest as she accepted my unspoken invitation and lowered herself down next to me.

Lucy's eyes didn't leave the candle, even as her hand found mine underneath the table. Hers was warm, far warmer than mine, and steadier, too. She'd been shaking again the last couple of weeks, but that night, she was steady.

She was steady every time someone wondered aloud what was going on. She was steady every time someone couldn't hide their sniffles well enough to avoid detection. She was steady every time someone needed to be reminded to hold onto hope.

The night was long, the longest I'd ever known. But Lucy was steady, and so was the flicker of the candle on the table.

Never once had Lucy lost her hope, and she would sooner die than let anyone else around her lose theirs.

Ten minutes after five o'clock, Mrs. Weasley returned, and everyone's heads snapped toward her.

She offered a weak and tired smile. "He's going to be alright. He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

The mood instantly shifted to one of relief. Lucy's hand slipped from mine, and she draped her blanket over the chair as Sirius called for a celebratory breakfast. I jumped up to help Lucy and Sirius, not wanting to intrude on the family relief the same way I'd been central to their grief through the night, but Mrs. Weasley swooped me up into a hug just after I had set down a stack of plates.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry, they might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis!"

Fortunately, she turned to Sirius next and thanked him for taking care of everyone through the night.

He grinned. "I'm glad I was able to help. Please, stay here as long as you need, while Arthur is healing."

"Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful," she said, pressing her hands to her mouth. "They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer. Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas, and—"

"The more the merrier!" he exclaimed, grin widening.

Mrs. Weasley smiled and turned to Lucy, gathering her into a hug as well. I missed what Mrs. Weasley said to her, because I couldn't stand to keep the burning secret from Sirius any longer.

"Sirius, can I have a quick word? Er — now?" I asked quietly.

He nodded without question, and we ducked into the hallway.

I immediately told him everything about the night, including the fact that I was the snake. On one hand, it felt good to have it all out in the open, especially knowing Mr. Weasley was alright. On the other, it was so much more terrifying and real.

"Did you tell Dumbledore this?" he asked. "All of this? Even the snake bit?"

I nodded, exasperated. "Yes, but he didn't tell me what it meant. Well, he doesn't tell me anything anymore—"

"I'm sure he would have told you if it was anything to worry about."

I lowered my voice to the point it was almost inaudible. "But that's not all. Sirius, I... I think I'm going mad. Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and—"

"No, I — it wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me—"

Sirius shook his head. "You need to sleep. You're going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You're in shock, Harry; you're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying."

With that, he left. I was alone in the dark. Through the doorway, though, I could see Lucy, staring directly at me. I could tell from the look on her face that she had heard everything I'd said.

We held each other's gaze for a long moment. I waited for her to look afraid of me.

She didn't.

She held out a pan to me, a silent invitation to rejoin the group, and I accepted it wordlessly. Our fingers grazed as she passed it off, and though neither of us spoke, we made the silent agreement to talk about it all later, just the two of us. I looked forward to that — she would believe me even if no one else in the world did. She would care about me even if no one else in the world did. And as we dropped into chairs a few minutes later, once again side by side, I found myself wondering what I had done to deserve someone like her.

~

After breakfast, everyone headed to bed. Ron was asleep within minutes, but I refused to let myself sleep. I remained in the most uncomfortable position possible. I was too scared of falling asleep and becoming the snake again. I didn't want to wake up and find another victim of mine.

Eventually, the house started to stir again, and we all met in the kitchen in Muggle clothes, since our Hogwarts trunks had arrived during lunch.

One look at Lucy informed me she hadn't slept, either. She was wearing the same light blue sweater from the Quidditch World Cup, and she was rolling the cuffs of her jeans to hide the fact they were far too short on her after how much she had grown in the year and a half since that day. Merlin. That felt like a lifetime ago, and yet, it didn't. Something about the terror of the night had reminded me of that night.

Lucy stuck close to me as we headed to St. Mungo's across London. She hadn't spoken a word since waking up — "waking up," really — but I didn't mind the silence. She wasn't asking questions about the vision, and I was glad for that.

I was too tired to truly appreciate the cleverness of the hiding place of St. Mungo's, but stepping through a glass window into a hospital was rather jarring. The waiting area would have been amusing if I hadn't been so exhausted — people had all types of entertaining magical disfigurements.

"Are the people in the lime green robes doctors?" I asked Lucy.

She shook her head. "Healers."

"Over here!" Mrs. Weasley called, gesturing for us to follow her. I noticed one of the portraits counting us, and I could have sworn she winked at me before disappearing. Back to report to Dumbledore, I reasoned.

Once we reached the front desk, I scanned the floor guide.

ARTIFACT ACCIDENTS ————— Ground Floor (Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)
CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES ————— First Floor (Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.)
MAGICAL BUGS ————— Second Floor (Contagious maladies, e.g., dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus)
POTION AND PLANT POISONING —————Third Floor (Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.)
SPELL DAMAGE ————— Fourth Floor (Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc.)
VISITORS' TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP ————— Fifth Floor

If you are unsure where to go, incapable, of normal speech, or unable to remember why you are here, our Welcome Witch will be pleased to help.

The Welcome Witch directed us to the first floor, second door on the right. The Dai Llewellyn ward, she had called it.

When we reached this door, however, the text on the doors was different.

"DANGEROUS" DAI LLEWELLYN WARD: SERIOUS BITES

Beside me, Lucy sucked in a sharp breath. A quick glance informed me she had tears in her eyes, and she was pale as could be, too. I reached for her hand, but she shook her head and crossed her arms, trying to make herself as small as possible. I wanted to say something, anything, to make it better, but I couldn't. I didn't trust myself to make it better and not worse.

Tonks halted just before we went inside. "We'll wait outside, Molly. Arthur won't want too many visitors at once. It ought to be just the family first."

Mad-Eye nodded, and Lucy and I backed up against the wall with them, but Mrs. Weasley grabbed us each by a wrist and dragged us in, saying not to be ridiculous and that we were family too.

Mr. Weasley was reading the Prophet when we entered, but tossed it aside once he saw us all. "Hello! Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later."

"How are you, Arthur? You're still looking a bit peaky."

"I feel absolutely fine. If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

Fred looked at his dad apprehensively. "Why can't they take them off, Dad?"

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," he replied. Though his tone was light, we all knew this wasn't good. He continued explaining. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. They're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

I glanced at Lucy, who was staring across the room at a very ill-looking young man, no more than thirty. Mr. Weasley followed her gaze, and his face softened.

"That fellow over there. Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap," he explained softly. "No cure at all."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened. "A werewolf? Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

Lucy took a step back, looking as if she'd been struck across the face. Mrs. Weasley didn't see — Lucy was behind her. I reached for Lucy's elbow, to stop her, to keep her there, but she wrenched herself free from my grip and hurried away.

Nobody else noticed her leaving. I thought about following after her, but I was pulled back into the conversation. All of the Weasley kids took turns trying to get more of the story out of their dad, but he very determinedly talked about Willy Widdershins and his regurgitating toilets. When Fred asked me about Voldemort's snake, Mrs. Weasley decided enough was enough and told us to switch places with Mad-Eye and Tonks.

As soon as the door closed, Fred sighed heavily and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

George pulled Extendable Ears from his pockets. "Looking for these?"

"You read my mind! Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

George swore. "Where's Lucy?"

"We can find her and fill her in later," Fred muttered, sticking the string in his ear. "C'mon, you lot, take one." When I hesitated, he rolled his eyes. "Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you."

Convinced, I followed suit. The Ears made their way under the door, and we all bowed our heads close together to listen.

Tonks. "They searched the whole area, but they couldn't find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur. But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

Moody. "I reckon he sent it as a lookout, 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

Mrs. Weasley. "Yes... you know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this—"

Moody. "Yeah, well, there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

Mrs. Weasley. "Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning."

Moody. "'Course he's worried. The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him—"

I dropped the string and backed away.

Dangerous. I was dangerous.

The frightened looks on everyone's faces confirmed that.

Dangerous. I was dangerous.

Suddenly, everything was too much. Too much. Altogether too much.

I staggered backward until I hit the wall and sank down against it.