Harry suddenly screamed, a loud, ear-shattering wail.
"Now, Harry!" Snape insisted. "Occlude your mind!"
Easier said than done, Harry thought. Now that he'd broken his dark powers wide open, Voldemort was feeding on them to make his scar blaze. His whole head was coming apart, he was sure of it. He felt a sticky wash of something begin pulsing down his face, and through a haze of pain heard Draco groan, "Oh, sweet Merlin above..."
"Occlude your mind, Potter!" Snape yelled, squeezing his hands until Harry thought his finger bones would shatter. Strangely enough, it helped. The fierce pain outside his head drew his attention, reminding him that he was more than a scar. He was a wizard, and a powerful one, and if he had to put up with simple charms blasting walls apart, then he'd damned well better be able to Occlude like never before, too!
Gritting his teeth, Harry reached deep down inside himself, the world going black as he concentrated on finding the very source of his darkest powers. His eyes rolled back in his head, a gasp hissing through his teeth, but then he was pulling a wall of fire up to surround his true self. With an almighty mental shove he thrust Voldemort's intrusion through the flames, propelling it with such force he could hear the evil wizard screaming as he was cast out of Harry's mind.
And then the room was silent save for his own harsh breathing.
Calming, Harry opened his eyes to see the other three wizards staring at him incredulously. It wasn't often one got to see Severus Snape open-mouthed with astonishment, Harry thought. "What?"
Snape recovered first. "Here, wipe your face," he urged, taking the cool, damp cloth from Draco's hand and passing it to Harry. It came away from Harry's face smeared with blood.
"I thought my head was splitting open," Harry weakly joked, but nobody laughed. "What?" he asked again.
"This ball of fire came shooting out of your forehead, mate," Ron said, his voice low. "And... and..."
"We saw the Dark Lord's face in it as it whizzed past," Draco added. "He looked livid."
Snape took the cloth and dabbed a bit at some places Harry had missed, then took a moment to cast a healing spell on his hand, obliterating the teeth marks below one thumb. "Are you all right?"
Swallowing, Harry admitted. "Uh, feel a bit queasy, actually." When his father made a move as though intending to help him to the loo, Harry shook his head. "No, it'll be all right. Just give me a minute."
Snape did, waiting until Harry's harsh breathing had slowed to ask, "Are you still Occluding?"
Harry slumped against his pillows. "Yeah. Do you think I have to keep it up all the time? That'll be pretty exhausting."
"I suspect Voldemort will think twice about reaching out through your scar in future," Snape told him, laying aside the cloth and straightening Harry's covers for him. "For the time being, however, I would recommend you shield your mind, yes."
Nodding, Harry ventured, "Um... was it my magic surging back that brought him running, do you think?"
The Potions Master considered that, then nodded. "Of course we cannot know for certain, but I would suspect that he has been regularly seeking out a connection ever since you escaped him at Samhain--"
"Ever since you rescued me, you mean," Harry put in, hoping Ron was listening for once.
Snape merely shrugged. "At any rate, I would say that until now, the conduit that is your scar has been blocked."
"Until now," Harry repeated rather darkly. "So, do you think Voldemort realizes about my dark powers and all?"
"It is a distinct possibility."
"More good news," Harry groaned. "Now he'll just start incanting in Parseltongue, too. So much for power the Dark Lord knows not."
"It was physical and mental trauma that both incinerated your light magic and broke your dark powers open," Snape reminded him, his glance warning Harry to stop quoting the prophecy. "And that's what's made them accessible to Parseltongue. Voldemort is not likely to inflict on himself the suffering that brought you to this pass."
"Yeah, he is a cowardly little shite," Harry realized, glancing at Ron. "That must have been pretty scary, last night. Um... I almost hate to ask but... where's my wand?"
Snape drew it out from the folds of his clothing and laid it on the bed-side table.
Harry sighed with relief. "I was almost afraid it had gotten burned up or something..." The wand looked dormant enough now, which prompted him to wonder, "How'd you get the spell to end? I kept trying but it just didn't work, not for me."
"Your spell stopped by itself when you fainted," Draco told him. "And you weren't trying in Parseltongue, were you?"
"People don't think straight when they're concussed," Ron leaped to Harry's defense. "And why should he think of that, anyway? He didn't really realize what had happened, I don't think, and even if he did, that snake wasn't around any longer--"
"Yeah, where's Sals?" Harry broke in. Probably hiding, he figured. That Lumos had to be especially frightening to a creature that didn't really comprehend magic.
"She's safe in her box," Snape volunteered. "Shall I fetch her?"
"Not just now." Harry sighed, relieved. "It's enough to know she hasn't tried to leave or something." He shifted in the bed, feeling slightly grungy, and remembered water falling on him. His damp clothes must have dried on him as he slept? That confused him a bit, as he was pretty sure his father would take better care of him than that... but then again, he'd apparently needed to be held. Hard to both hold someone close and dress them in pajamas. It occurred to him then that nobody else had changed clothes, either. Not even Draco, and for him to wear a rumpled, wrinkled shirt... well, that was so unusual that it spoke volumes.
And then there was Ron... Harry had been trying not to mention the obvious, but he suddenly couldn't hold back the question. "Shouldn't you do something about your nose?"
Ron grimaced slightly and rubbed at the burned spot he'd gotten when Harry's Lumos had flashed past, too close for comfort. "It looks worse than it is."
"Draco, fetch Mr. Weasley some standard burn salve, if you would."
"Nah, that's okay; I can just pop over to the infirmary--"
Snape abruptly turned toward the Gryffindor boy. "You are a student at this institution as well as my son's best friend, Mr. Weasley. Not to mention, I dined with your parents just last night." His voice went grim to match the glower in his eyes. "Do you truly suspect I would poison you?"
Harry held his breath, all too afraid that Ron was going to mutter yes.
Instead, his friend let out a long sigh and mutely shook his head.
By then, Draco had returned with the burn cream. He lifted one blond eyebrow when Ron took it without comment and dabbed a bit on the tip of his nose. Instantly, the scarlet red blisters there faded to freckled skin. Capping the jar of salve, Ron passed it back. "Thank you, Professor."
Snape studied him for a long moment. "No thanks are needed. You have my apologies that I did not think to offer sooner."
Ron flushed a bit. "Yeah. Um, well... you seemed pretty occupied with Harry, there." He turned to his friend. "So, you're all right, are you?"
Harry nodded. "Thanks for staying all night. That means a lot." He wondered if he should stop there, but something wouldn't let him. "You didn't need to, though. I mean..." He didn't know how to go on, since saying I had my father to take care of me sounded completely like he didn't appreciate Ron at all.
Surprisingly enough, Ron heard what he didn't say. Maybe he did do subtle, sometimes. "I thought I needed to," he volunteered, glancing at Snape. "But... um, guess I was mistaken. Not that I'm sorry I stayed," he rushed to put in, as though worried Harry might misunderstand. "I don't suppose I could have left really, since it was just horrid watching you pass out like that. I had to see for myself that you came out of it all right. But... um..."