After spending some time with Ginny in his room that afternoon, Harry insisted that he wanted to spend more time with Ron and Hermione even when the potion had already been brewed and waiting for them to begin the possible cure. He knew it was stupid delaying it, but what would happen if the ritual failed and he had missed the opportunity to speak with his friends? He didn't want to regret that, so after a few hesitations and head shakes from the adults, they finally gave in after Harry promised to let his friends know if he wasn't feeling okay as soon as possible. Outside the cottage, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat and huddled beside Dobby's grave.

Ron and Hermione flopped down beside Harry, and Ginny sat on the other side of Harry. The youngest Weasley covered Harry with blankets for warmth while he laid his gaze on the large, weathered stone covering the place where the elf's body now rested. Etched in the small memorial were the words: HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF. A small part of the mound was already covered with flowers, and seeing this made Harry realize for the hundredth time that he had laid Dobby to rest in such a beautiful and peaceful place. I wish you were here with us, Dobby, he thought dismally.

The month of June overcompensated for the rainy days of April and May by blessing England with plenty of warm sunshine. Harry looked up at the sky and listened to the loud yet soothing sound of the sea crashing against the cliff, sending thousands of small water droplets ricocheting off of sharp rocks creating sea spray and launching the sentimental aroma of saltwater in the air. But the relaxing and warm feeling the waves provided for him were soon forgotten as he silently clenched his teeth, trying to soften the blow of yet another bolt of pain shooting through his body. He dismissed the feeling, not wanting to alarm his friends.

However, Ginny perceptively noticed the pained expression he briefly wore. "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked disconcertedly. Ron and Hermione turned their attention to him and looked at Harry with apprehension.

Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "I feel pain from time to time," he said trepidatiously, reluctant to admit this to his friends in fear of their distressed reactions. "But I'm fine!" he added quickly, trying to form a weak smile at them to ease their worries slightly.

Ron surveyed him carefully, trying to analyze him to look for any red lights indicating that he wasn't okay. "Are you sure, mate? We could just stay in your room. You would most likely feel more comfortable there than here."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sure," he told them resolutely. He ran his hand over Dobby's grave. "I want to spend some time with him, too," he added quietly.

The topic of Dobby and his death that he was veering towards caused his hand to tremble. He wondered when the pain of losing someone so dear to his heart would leave him. If it did at all, how much would change in his life without their memories circling around his mind, plaguing and benefiting it at the same time? This summoned anxious thoughts. Losing someone was devastating, and he knew that first-hand. Thinking about it, he couldn't help but wonder if it hurts to die. He thought he had experienced death the night Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on him—yet he survived. This time, however, death had been haunting him everywhere—even in his sleep.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny seemed to have had no objection to Harry's adamant statement, so they decided to let it go. Harry scooted closer to his girlfriend, letting her head rest against his chest. The warmth radiating from her body made him feel comforted enough to stay where he was.

"I miss Dobby." Hermione suddenly voiced, as if reading Harry's mind. "He was such a brave house-elf, who is always willing to put himself in dangerous situations when he knew it was the only right thing to do."

"I remember he used to call me Wheezy," Ron commented as he chuckled quietly. "I wasn't aware of what he meant by it at first."

"He was a good friend," Harry whispered as if trying not to disturb Dobby's peaceful, eternal rest. The other three nodded in agreement.

"You're right, Harry," Hermione agreed, musing as she stared at Dobby's grave. "He was extremely devoted to you." She glanced in Harry's direction and continued, "I think Dobby thought of you as his best friend." Harry smiled. He certainly hoped that were true.

Ron laughed loudly. "His way of showing devotion was really uncanny. Remember when he hurt and injured Harry only because he wanted to save him?"

Harry bowed his head. "I had already forgiven Dobby. I told him not to save me again if he could." He responded in a low and miserable tone. "Yet he did... and because of me he's not here." He became lost in his own private grief and swallowed hard.

"Stop it," Ginny told him sternly. "Stop blaming yourself—it wasn't your fault. If someone is to blame, it is Bellatrix Lestrange." She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, making Harry wince inconspicuously.

"I completely respect Dobby," Ron declared. "He saved us."

"Dobby had his ways of helping people," Hermione agreed fervently, trying to be optimistic but finding it difficult. "Even though most of the time it was not what we expected, he was always loyal and such a hard worker."

"Yeah," Harry concurred. He then looked up and glanced at his friends as he shook off the devastating memories of Dobby swarming his mind only moments before. "Like you three."

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny glanced at him with raised eyebrows. Harry had been looking for the perfect time to talk to them—to tell them how he felt for each of them, and it came upon him that now was the best time to do so before they began the ritual—before anything else—before it was too late.

"Not all people are lucky enough to have such strong friendship," Harry began, his eyes glazed with thoughtfulness as he gazed at the colossal waves pummeling onto the rocky shore. "I used to never have friends. Dudley would always tease me for being a freak and I endured it for the first eleven years of my life. When I got my letter from Hogwarts, I never had the desire to socialize—I mean, I thought, who would want to be friends with me, anyway?" He stole a glance in Ron's direction and smiled. "Not until you showed up at the barrier of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and then again in my compartment on the train."

"Um... yeah, I remember that," Ron said sheepishly, his ears turning as red as his ginger hair. "All the compartments were full and yours wasn't. You looked really lonely. Looking back now, I would think that you wouldn't have let me in, considering the way you seemed to isolate yourself."

Harry chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make myself look that way. I was completely overwhelmed about everything in the Wizarding World, not knowing a single thing about spells or History of Magic facts—I was just thrown in this world looking like an idiot, to be honest."

Ron smirked as memories of the first months of his friendship with Harry came flooding back to him. "Yeah... it was a pity that you knew absolutely nothing at the time... but look at you now!" He brandished his hand up and down in front of Harry's face, a look of pride plastered on Ron's countenance. "Savior of the Wizarding World! The-Boy-Who-Lived! The Chosen One! Teenager-Who-Killed-Voldemort!"

Harry's face quickly grew red at Ron's proud declaration. "No. I mean, yes, I am a teenager who killed Voldemort, but I honestly wouldn't have been able to do most of the 'saving stuff' without you. You're a lot stronger than people give you credit for. If you hadn't disturbed me that first day on the train, I wouldn't be here. I'd probably still have been stuck trying to move past the life-sized chessboard from our first year or expelled from Hogwarts for not showing up for our second year since Dobby sealed the entrance to Platform 9 and 3/4."

"Blimey! The memories of the flying car and the Whomping Willow that broke my wand—plus Hagrid's bloody spiders…" Ron shuddered visibly. Hermione and Ginny laughed. "I was so relieved we got out of the forest. I'll never do it again, I swear!"

"Yeah… or else you'd have peed your pants," Harry taunted, grinning.

"Haven't I told you that I almost did?" Ron said over the girls' laughter agitatedly as though that piece of information was essential for everyone to be aware of.

Harry also burst out laughing, accompanying Hermione and Ginny at Ron's revelation, ignoring the next wave of pain that hit his body.

With a shuddering breath, Harry then turned his attention to his other best friend. "And you, Hermione…" Hermione took a deep breath before he continued, "Without you, I wouldn't be aware of my recklessness. You've kept me on the right track the whole way."

It was her turn to blush, but she quickly replaced it with an eye roll and a glare. "I knew you needed a sister even though your first thought of me was stuck-up and arrogant."

Harry let his jaw drop, taken aback. "What? Are you sure that was me and not Ron?"

"Hey!" Ron cried in defense. "She was only referring to you, Harry. Don't drag me into this." He looked at him sharply before sending him a playful smirk.

"But!" Frustrated with their squabbling, Hermione talked over them. "Without me, you and Ron would not only potentially fail in both life-threatening, but also everyday situations."

Harry and Ron couldn't hide their embarrassment after realizing the truth behind her words.

"You're right as always, Hermione. You are truly a sister that I would ask for any day," Harry conceded as Ron huffed in agreement. "You stood by me most of the time when Ron couldn't—"

"Hey!" Ron yelped with indignation. "You wouldn't consider me your best friend if I wasn't on your side most of the time, mate," he said crossly, feeling affronted. He jutted his chin and sent his nose into the air.

"That's true," Harry agreed. His tone then quickly changed into an annoyed one. "Except the time when you doubted me for putting my name in the Goblet of Fire while Hermione accepted my side of the story without question. You waited until after the First Task to talk to me. What a git you were!"

Ron's jaw hung open. "That's not fair!" he retorted angrily. "I realized how badly I had misjudged the situation and I said I was sorry." He sighed with exasperation.

Hermione and Ginny giggled at the two boys.

"I know," Harry replied reassuringly, grinning from ear to ear. "I was just giving you a hard time, Ron." He eyed his best friend apologetically.

"Oh, I see…" Ron said, his voice deadly serious. "Well then, I'm gonna give you a hard time with my sister," he threatened.

Ginny elbowed Ron and shot him a nasty glare. "You better not think about it, Ronald Weasley, or else I would give you a hard time with Hermione!" She quickly cast a repentant look at her. She merely laughed.

"I'm your brother!" Ron spat, disgruntled. "I have every right to—"

"Oh, stop with that nonsense!" his sister interrupted, using the same commanding tone as her mother. Harry and Hermione roared with laughter.

"But seriously, Ron…" Harry looked up at him, his eyes glowing with sincerity. "There is nothing I value more than my friendship with you. Thank you for sticking by my side. I've found a true friend in you... and I hope in twenty years or something we'll be able to look back at our past together and just be so happy we had such a close and meaningful friendship that led to so many great adventures. You are truly the best friend I've ever had. I mean that with all my heart."

"You're only saying that because you're afraid of what I'm planning to do with you for going out with my sister," Ron said suspiciously, his eyes gleaming under the sun. Ginny glared at him.

Harry gulped mockingly before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you could say that." He grinned nervously at him, but Ron smiled back in approval.

Startling them all, Hermione burst into tears.

Ron immediately turned to her worriedly. "There's nothing to cry about!" he quickly told her, bewildered as to why she was hysterical in the first place.

"I'm just—" The warm hug that Hermione enveloped her friends in expressed her feelings more accurately than any sentence could.

"Let Harry breathe," Ron told Hermione, smiling. She sat back down and wiped away her tears.

"Thanks, Hermione." She looked up at Harry at the mention of her name. "You really are an incredible friend. You always tell me that I am the strongest and bravest person you know, and say that you admire my courage for taking risks and starting from nothing, but I have this strength you rave about because of you. You are the brave one. I've never in my whole life been so lucky and proud to have a sister figure like you. Even when all I can see is the worst in me, and even when I make mistakes, you still see my best attributes. You remind me of who I truly am even when I am too blind and hopeless to see it, and I am so grateful for that. Our journeys have become intertwined—through them, we've been through so much, but we've always supported each other, and we've grown immensely from where we've started. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hermione was bawling now, unable to wipe away her uncontrollable tears as they streamed down her cheeks, making her eyes red and puffy.

"Barking mad," Ron said, shocked and incredulous at Hermione's swell of emotions. "Look what you did, Harry," he observed while shaking his head and wrapping his arm around her, finally giving in and embracing her whole shaking form.

After a few hugs, Hermione slowly regained her composure. She gave Harry a knowing look. "I know what you're doing, Harry—why you're being sentimental," she sniffled softly.

Harry just shrugged and gazed at them. He had gained a million memories, a thousand inside jokes, a hundred shared secrets, from only one source: the close bonds created by friendship. Ron and Hermione were the two people who were able to lend a helping hand every time he needed one. Even when he pulled the strangest stunts or had the weirdest ideas in life, they had supported, cared, and loved him. No matter what obstacles had been thrown in their path or how many other people had tried to tear their friendship apart, they had stood the test of time. But now, he felt suffocated; he couldn't stop trembling. He didn't want to leave them. He was afraid to die, no matter how much he denied it. He wanted to grow old with them by his side, to spend years enjoying life's endless roller coaster ride, never knowing when it would finally come to a stop. But his knowledge that his time was coming soon drained him of any strength left to carry on. With his illness, he was clinging to each second, fearing that each breath was his last.

Sadness laced Harry's words when he spoke. "I'm afraid to think that I won't get another time like this to tell you both how much I appreciate you. I don't want to pass up this chance to truly express myself before it's too late."

"It's never gonna be too late, Harry," Hermione affirmed comfortingly. She reached over and patted his arm. "You will have all the time in the world to tell us how you feel. You will experience so much more, and we will make sure that you do because you're going to live to see so many more days with so many more chances to express how you feel about anything any time—and we'll want to be with you on those days too, Harry."

Harry wanted badly to believe her, but what if Hermione was wrong this time? And there was certainly no guarantee that he'd be fine. The truth was, he didn't know what was going to happen once his friends drank the potion.

Before anyone realized it, Harry broke down and cried as he let all the pain from the past weeks come out in muffled sobs. Ginny tightened her hold on Harry's hand while he released all the pent-up emotions that had created a tight knot inside of him until the cries dissipated into sniffles. He looked back at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, his eyes red and puffy and his heart overflowing with pure love and understanding. He tried to picture his life with his friends when this was all behind them. They're right, he thought optimistically. I would overcome this, and spend the rest of my life surrounded by the people who cared about me most. This is just the beginning. I would vow to give all of my faith to each of them and hope for the best.

They talked, shared memories, laughed and cried for the rest of the hour. Harry felt the wind brushing lightly on his face and tenderly ruffling his hair as he looked up at the darkening sky, peace and contentment flowing through him.

He lowered his gaze and saw his friends looking up at him as though they had finally reached an understanding. He nodded at them and they nodded back as if silently telling him that they were ready.

The salty air had already clung to their skin when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny bid their goodbyes to Dobby. With the help of Harry's friends, he slowly trudged back to the cottage, the four bringing with them a renewed hope to see another day with nothing but good wishes and dreams for a better life.

Everyone at the dining table appeared casual, but the air was heavy with tension. They all only focused their attention on the food on their plates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry felt it was slightly unusual for the pair to eat without talking. Their countenances were expressionless, but he understood why and should've expected for them to react this way. Everyone was delved in deep thought, fearfully wondering about what would come. For several long minutes, Harry still couldn't bring himself to speak. He was positive that every person's thoughts were identical—lingering on the possible outcomes of the potion and the ritual. They had one goal for that evening; to begin the process of mending his soul. But no one wanted to talk about the subject; the subject that could cost all four teenagers their lives. The silence was deafening and only an occasional cough from Harry would jolt everyone back to reality, making it painfully aware to them that they were still at the table eating.

Harry resorted to drinking an Invigoration Draught to get through the rest of the evening. Their strained faces and his worrisome thoughts on what was to come caused his appetite to dissipate completely. Outside, a fierce wind began to blow, rattling the window panes. Harry closed his eyes, trying to fight off the severe nausea. He winced and his brows furrowed tightly with pain when a throbbing headache began to develop. He rested his head in his hands, and rubbed circles on his temples, trying to ease the unbearable suffering, but it didn't help. His chest then began to heave involuntarily, as every intake of air felt like he was inhaling fire. He began to feel extremely nervous. This was it—his last straw of survival felt like it was being pulled away from his weak grip. Harry had lost all motivation and hope, feeling as though there was no point in fighting for his life. He had been doomed from the beginning. Fate had let him come this far, teased him with the dream of a fresh start, and then snatched it all away. He felt as if he had to realize and accept that this was how his story was meant to conclude. He was too exhausted to be angry, or to fight off the pain. If his life was going to end, at least he was in a place he loved, surrounded by people he adored. With acceptance came a numb peace. All he wished for now was the oblivion of sleep.

He realized they must've noticed his pained stupor when most of the people at the table started calling his name.

"Harry!"

"Harry?"

"Harry, are you okay?" The last was Ginny's soft voice he had heard. She shook him gently.

"I'm fine," Harry whispered as he lifted his head, his hoarse voice cracking.

She peered at him closely. "You don't look fine. Do you want to lie down in bed?"

Harry didn't want to be rude and excuse himself from the table while everyone was supposedly still helping themselves with food, but the word "bed" sounded comforting, and he desperately needed rest. He silently gave Ginny a small nod. Everyone around him had stopped eating as Harry cast them an apologetic look, noticing their worried glances. Hagrid immediately offered to carry him back to his bed, but Harry declined the offer.

"Could you just help me walk, Hagrid?" he asked weakly. He felt ridiculous knowing that he could barely even walk, but he wanted to if this was his last. He concentrated hard and managed to haul himself onto his knees, but it still took colossal effort before he made it to his feet.

"Slowly," Ginny cautioned him. "One step at a time."

Harry followed her advice and waited cautiously for a moment before taking a step forward. He was as wobbly as a toddler taking his first hesitant, tentative steps. He finally made his way to his room, spurred and motivated only by the thought of his bed waiting for him. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny trailed behind them. Hagrid had taken his elbow.

On the way to his room, however, Harry noticed that Hagrid was very quiet, and he concluded that it only meant that he might be trying to suppress some sort of strong emotions inside him from fear of letting them out. Harry hugged the giant tightly. At first, Hagrid looked relieved to see him, but by the time they reached Harry's bed, Hagrid broke down into loud and messy sobs. He desperately tried to wipe his tears away and regain his composure, but the tears relentlessly kept on pouring out, as if all of his bottled emotions flowed with them at once.

"Hagrid." Harry placed a gentle hand on his massive arm.

"S-s-sorry," Hagrid stuttered as he sobbed, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in the cloth. "But I c-c-can't stand it—yer gettin' weaker an' weaker—" Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood around Harry's bed, solemnity overwhelming them.

Harry gingerly patted his arm. "I'll be okay, Hagrid."

"I know," came Hagrid's muffled voice through the handkerchief as he wiped the tears cascading down his face. He gently picked Harry up in his warm and comforting arms, and, together, they sat down on the bed. "I have faith in yer friends, Harry. I know ev'rythin' will be okay. It's just—yer have bin like a son ter me—"

Everyone smiled as their eyes started to glisten with tears of their own at his statement. Harry tightened their embrace. "And you've been like a father to me, Hagrid. You were the first wizard I ever met and were ever so kind as to introduce me to the Wizarding World. You've looked out for me and helped me through countless difficult situations." He looked up at Hagrid straight in the eye with his own brilliant green eyes. "If it wasn't for you, Hagrid, I would be such a different person... so I couldn't thank you enough."

Hagrid feigned a smile, but his face quickly morphed into one of graveness as his eyes grew wet with tears yet again. Harry's heart broke at the sight of the giant filled with so much fear and pain that it emanated from him and shone in his glistening eyes. He had never seen such raw affliction in Hagrid's countenance before, apart from the time when he thought Harry had been killed in the Forbidden Forest. From the first moment they met, Harry had always known him as an incredibly warm, kind-hearted man, and a very sensitive person who could burst into tears at any form of bad news despite what his large form and looks might falsely convey. Harry didn't know how to comfort him, but he stayed by his side until he calmed down. He heard Hermione and Ginny's sniffles from behind Hagrid.

"Yer have bin in so much ordeal already, Harry," Hagrid gurgled through his sobs. "I couldn' even count how many times yer've bin at the Hospital Wing. Yer was either unconscious, healin' from a broken bone, or recoverin' from fallin' off yer broomstick."

Harry felt his cheeks go red as he leaned into Hagrid's massive arms. Everything that he said was true. As much as he wanted to keep himself out of trouble, he could never avoid it no matter how hard he tried; during his adventures filled with peril, he had felt like a human magnet, attracting potential dangers at every turn.

"An' now this," Hagrid continued, looking down at him. "I don' know how ya handle it. Ya usually go back ter bein' healthy after a couple o' days of restin', but this time it's different. I feel like I'm goin' ter lose yer any minute. I don' wan' ter relive that time again when I have ter carry yer in my arms an' ye'r dead. I don' want that, Harry."

Everyone knew what Hagrid was talking about; they had witnessed Harry sacrificing himself to stop Voldemort at the battle at Hogwarts. Hagrid carrying Harry's lifeless body out of the Forbidden forest was the most horrible sights they had seen. Everyone was positive that he was dead. There had been anguished cries that echoed throughout Hogwarts as grief took hold of those who had seen Harry's lifeless body. It had been as though they had lost all hope in the world. Harry knew it was wrong to think that he was close to giving up—though he felt he had already given up, but seeing their faces... their deep sorrow...

Harry sighed sadly and patted Hagrid's arm. "It's not going to happen again, Hagrid. Yes... this is different, and I'm really scared, but I have to assure myself that everything's going to be okay. I want you to think that, too—for my sake." He held on to his massive hand and looked directly into his eyes. "Can you do that for me, Hagrid?"

Hagrid continued to wail loudly but acknowledged Harry with a nod.

"Don't worry, Hagrid." Hermione's voice came from beside him. "We're going to do our best. I mean, when did we not?" She gave an encouraging smile.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, peering at him behind Hermione and grinning. "When have I ever failed in life?" He added sarcastically.

With that pronouncement, Hermione turned to Ron, her face full of concern. "That doesn't really boost my confidence, Ron."

"Geez… I'm just trying to diffuse the tension," he replied with a slightly sad smirk. "All this crying and drama is making me weak."

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh, I forgot how tactful and insensitive you are. Just you wait, Ronald. If we fail in this attempt—"

"Is that going to happen?" Ron interrupted suddenly, wearing a look of genuine horror on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know what we're gonna be dealing with once we cast this spell, so you might want to prepare yourself in case you lose your tact and insensitivity."

Ron gulped and stared at her fearfully.

"Good luck to you three," Slughorn wished them, entering Harry's bedroom. Everyone inside Shell Cottage had gathered near the door, behind him. "And I hope that you all can get through this."

The rest of the Weasley family made their way slowly to Ron and Ginny. They hugged as they gave their youngest son and only daughter some words of comfort, as well as Hermione who stood a few feet away.

"You can do this; you just have to believe in yourselves," Mr. Weasley started slowly and gently. Mrs. Weasley nodded her agreement, her eyes filled with tears. "We trust you both and Hermione. We have faith in all of you no matter what." They kissed their children and Hermione on their foreheads.

They made their way to Harry and reached out their arms to pull him in an embrace, Hagrid amongst them. No words were needed for their warmth and love to be expressed. Being enveloped in this moment with them—the two people he considered as his own parents—was enough for Harry. He felt tears spring into his eyes, his emotions fully taking over due to their overwhelming love; something he had never experienced with his actual family. "Thank you," he sincerely whispered. They let go of him and bent down to kiss his forehead.

While Harry, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley were sharing this emotional, tender moment, Slughorn had gone to retrieve the potion resting on the dining table while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood around Harry's bed. The embrace having broken up, they glanced nervously at each other, fidgeting with their hands, not knowing exactly what to say next.

Harry cleared his throat and addressed them. "I just want to briefly say thank you for everything. I don't know what will happen after this, but I want you all to know how proud I am of you guys. We'll live to see another day, right?" he asked, remembering the half-futile promise for the future from earlier that day. Despite the looks of concern on their faces, Harry couldn't stop smiling. He felt incredibly lucky to have his family by his side.

Together, the four of them embraced, aware that Slughorn had returned with three cups in his hands. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each gently took one.

"You all have to drink that potion and enunciate the words in this spell once and all together while directing your wands to Harry—" He raised the Anima book he brought to their eye level so they could read the incantation 'ēmendā eum animum'. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny nodded their understanding.

They clinked their cups together and raised them up high, mumbling, "To Harry!"

With final looks at each other, they placed the cups to their lips with trembling fingers and drank the potion. All three of them coughed as the bitter taste sloshed down their throats. With nervous yet determined looks, they slowly raised their wands to Harry and declared, "ēmendā eum animum!"

As soon as the words left their mouths, a silver light burst from their wands, encasing the three of them in a leaden glow before it zoomed straight to Harry's body and disappeared. Harry, who was sitting up in bed with the help of Hagrid, went limp the moment the light hit him.

Every occupant inside the room was briefly paralyzed with shock. Without warning, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny also suddenly went limp and fell with a thud on the floor, unconscious.

To be continued...

Beta-read by Smthnborrowediamblue, a-potato-forever, SunkissedCinnamon, KVeronicaP