Harry awoke a few hours later, drenched in sweat and writhing in agony. His gut felt like it was being consumed in fire. His retching woke Ron, who sprang immediately to Harry’s bedside.
“Harry! Harry, what is it? Is it V-Voldemort?” Ron was nearly as white as Harry. Harry couldn’t speak, but shook his head. Ron called for Neville, who was just getting out of bed. “Neville, go get Madame Pomfrey – hurry!” Neville was off in a flash, stumbling out the doorway.
Harry knew that Lord Voldemort wasn’t in his head, but he didn’t know what was wrong with him. His stomach continued to burn, and he couldn’t seem to control his arms and legs. His limbs were thrashing about; he had no ability to stop them. It felt like ice was flowing through his veins. He willed himself to speak to Ron. His voice was barely a whisper. “…Tell…Ginny…I love… her….”
Ron sat next to Harry on his bed, trying to hold him down. His eyes were wide with fear, and bright with unshed tears. “Tell her yourself, mate – you’re gong to be all right,” Ron insisted. Harry tried to smile at him, hoping he was right, but afraid he wasn’t. He thought he might be dying. The last thing he heard was Ron’s pleading voice; “Hold on, Harry, you’ve got to hold on! Harry! Harry, please… please don’t let him die… please…” Ron’s voice faded; Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head.
Harry was in a wood, lush with greenery. The air was cool and moist and the trees around him were thick, so that he could only see a little way in front of him. This wasn’t the Forbidden forest, though. This was a peaceful, calm place. Birds were singing; he thought he even heard Phoenix song. He moved forward through the trees, trying to find the source of the thrilling chord that meant so much to him. He came to a clearing, and there he saw Albus Dumbledore waiting for him. Harry walked up to him, curious as to what they were both doing there.
“Hello, Harry.” The headmaster smiled at him. “Do you know where we are?”
“No, Sir. This place seems familiar, but….”
“Think back, Harry. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Harry thought hard, searching his memory. “I remember Christmas day at the Burrow, and coming back to Hogwarts. I can’t remember anything after that.”
“Can’t you? Try harder, Harry. Remember!” The headmaster’s voice was stern. Harry closed his eyes and probed further, examining his thoughts.
“I was ill,” he said suddenly. “I was…am I dead?” he asked Dumbledore curiously. He was not afraid, just very confused.
His guardian smiled. “No Harry, you are not dead. Are you sure you don’t know where we are?”
Harry looked around at the somehow familiar setting. Then he knew. “We’re in my mind.”
“That is correct. We are in a very deep part of you’re mind. Listen carefully, Harry. You are in the Hospital Wing. You are indeed very ill. You have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Harry repeated. “By who?”
Dumbledore sighed. “That,” he said, “we do not know. That is why I am contacting you here in your mind. Madame Pomfrey needs to know if anyone gave you anything while you were at the Burrow. Anything to eat or drink, or perhaps a garment, that no one else had? Knowing this might help us determine what type of poison you were given.”
Harry thought back over his time at the Burrow. Ginny had given him both a garment and her homemade fudge – but Ginny would never….
“Ginny made me a sweater, and some fudge. But,” he added hurriedly, “Ginny didn’t poison me, Professor, I’m sure of it.”
“As am I, Harry, as am I. Thank you. We may be able to find out who had access to Ginny’s gifts before they were given. Meanwhile, I must tell you – you are gravely ill. I may not be able to contact you this way again, if your mind becomes any more affected by this toxin. But rest assured we are doing all we can to help you. Professor Snape is working round the clock to find an antidote, and Remus has never left your side. Your friends Ron and Hermione have to be forced to take food. Miss Weasley is with you night and day as well. We will find a cure, Harry, of this I am certain.”
It felt odd, talking with Dumbledore in this pleasant place in his mind, about his life being in danger, about his friend’s concern for him. “How long have I been in the Hospital Wing?” he asked.
“For two days. Ron absolutely refused to leave you alone. I’m sure Madame Pomfrey has never heard such words directed towards her from a student in the many years she has been at Hogwarts.”
“Give them all my love, will you, Sir?” he asked. He was not afraid of death, because he knew Sirius and his parents were waiting for him beyond the veil. But he was afraid of never seeing his friends again – especially Ginny.
“I will certainly do so, Harry. And while I have the chance, I will tell you plainly something I should have voiced long ago, but never have.” He paused. “I love you, Harry. You are more than a son to me.”
Harry could not speak. His throat was tight and his eyes were burning. He nodded, and as his guardian swept him into a protective embrace, he found his voice.
“I love you too, Professor.”
Dumbledore was gone. The place where he had stood shone with light for a moment, then faded. His world was going black; there was no more Phoenix song.
Harry was bound tightly to a chair. His head was pinned back as well; he could only see directly in front of him. His bonds were so tight they had cut off his circulation. He could not feel his arms or legs. It was dark, but there was light coming from somewhere behind him. He heard a voice whispering, and he strained to see to his left, from where the voice was coming, but its owner stayed just out of his line of vision. Footsteps, heavy and slow, were moving nearer. He saw a man come into view, small and hunched. As he watched, the man tranfigured into a rat, large and gray and shabby. The rat had a shining silver paw on its right front foot. “No,” Harry moaned. “Not you. You TRAITOR!” he screamed.
The rat transfigured again, this time into a boy about his age, his face covered by the hood of a heavy, black cloak. But Harry could see his eyes, glinting yellow in the shadows. He recognized the drawling laugh. Draco Malfoy threw back his cover, his thin, pointed face more pale than ever, his eyes turning to slits. “Had enough, Potter?” he laughed louder and harder, the noise of it filling the room, threatening to burst Harry’s eardrums. Harry screwed his eyes shut against the sound.
Then the sound changed. It was no longer the menacing laughter of Draco Malfoy, but a high-pitched, girlish squeal. He felt something cold and wet on his eyelids, and he opened his eyes. There was a blanket of snow covering him, an icy wind whipping his hair. He had never been so cold, ever. Standing in front of him, her red hair lashing in the gale, was Ginny, laughing maniacally.
“No!” Harry shouted. “No, Ginny, it’s not you! It’s not you!” Blackness enveloped him, as the sound of Ginny’s laughter roared in his ears….
Harry could hear a buzzing, just beyond the edge of the darkness. His body felt heavy and bruised, as if he’d been in a fight with a dragon, and lost. He tried to open his eyes, but an unseen force weighted them down. The buzzing became words, and he could hear Ginny’s voice, tremulous, speaking to him.
“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You mean the world to me.” Her voice was low, and Harry could hear the tears in it. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her he didn’t blame her, but his voice wouldn’t come. She continued even more softly. “Professor Dumbledore keeps saying you’ll be alright, but we’re all so worried. I can’t bear to look at Ron and Hermione; they look terrible. Oh, Harry, it’s all my fault! I should’ve been more careful! I knew your life was in danger, I should’ve had Professor Moody check your gifts before I gave them to you. How could I have been so stupid! And now…now you may never come back, and I never told you I loved you….”
Ginny was sobbing now; she couldn’t speak. But her words brought a powerful warmth to Harry, and they seemed to give him strength. He fought to bring his body back under his control. He forced the heavy weight from his eyes, and found he could open them. Ginny’s head was on his chest, the shinning red hair all around him. He covered her hand with his. “Ginny,” he whispered.
“HARRY! she shrieked. She stared, dazed, into his eyes. She put her hands on his face, as if she couldn’t believe he was really back. “Harry,” she said again. “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you, and I heard you before,” he answered her, his throat dry, his voice cracking. “I love you, too, Ginny.”
This was too much for her. She dissolved into racking sobs. “Harry... I didn’t ... know .... So sorry ... forgive...me,” she choked out, weeping fiercely on his shoulder.
Harry stroked her hair, tears in his eyes as well. “Ginny, don’t,” he murmured. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer like this. “It wasn’t your fault; I know you would never hurt me. Ginny, look at me.” He pulled her chin up towards him so he could see her golden brown eyes. “You are my precious treasure. Please, stop blaming yourself. Please?”
Ginny gave him a watery smile, and nodded. “Let me get the others.” She pulled Harry’s curtain aside, and he saw Ron, Hermione, Neville and Professor Lupin sitting together under the sunny window. He also saw, to his great surprise, Professor Snape, sitting with his head bowed a little way off from the others. Ginny called to them. “Hey, you lot! Harry’s awake! He’s awake!”
Harry was instantly surrounded by his loyal friends. He heard Lupin call for Madame Pomfrey. Hermione flung herself at him, and he was reminded of the boxing match with that dragon. “Hermione, ow!” She immediately backed away with her hand over her mouth, looking mortified. Harry took her arm and brought her back to him for a gentle hug.
“Oh, Harry,” she cried, “I was so worried about you! I’ve missed you so much!”
“How long have I been out?” Harry asked. He knew it had been two days at the time he talked to Dumbledore in his mind.
Ron answered his question. “You’ve been out almost a week, mate.” Ron looked shaky, and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed. “We really thought we were losing you.”
Madame Pomfrey came bustling in, ordering everyone out of the way. They all stepped back a few paces, but refused to leave. She glared at them; then, knowing she was already defeated, proceeded to check Harry over thoroughly. While she was doing this, Dumbledore arrived.
“Harry, nice to see you back again.” The headmaster looked relieved. “How is he, Poppy?”
Madame Pomfrey harrumphed. “He’s be a sight better if could get some peace and quiet.” But Harry noticed that her eyes were bright. “I don’t know how, Headmaster, but he’s come through. I expect he’ll be weak for a few days at least. He’ll need plenty of rest. Are you hungry, Mr. Potter?”
Harry nodded. Madame Pomfrey hastened away to get him something to eat. Dumbledore took her place at Harry’s bedside. The others continued to wait for their turn to see Harry. He noticed that the Hospital Wing was starting to become crowded.
Professor Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Well, my boy, how are you feeling? I don’t mind telling you that you gave us quite a scare.”
“Sorry about that, Sir. I’m feeling well enough, under the circumstances. What happened to me after I spoke with you in my mind?” Harry raised himself up on his pillows a bit, and grimaced at the pain this small movement brought.
Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly, and a look of dismay crossed his face. “You were unconscious for six days, Harry. I tried to contact you in your mind several times, but I couldn’t get through. I could tell you were suffering from terrible dreams, though. I wish I could have done something to ease your mind. Your faithful companions remained at your side as long as Madame Pomfrey would let them. Remus has been terribly agitated. But I think no one suffered more than poor Ginny. She has felt dreadful guilt about her part in your condition, even though she is not too blame.”
“Did you find out who poisoned me, Sir?”
“Not yet, Harry. But we do have some strong leads. Your friend Miss Granger has been most helpful in this.” Dumbledore rose from Harry’s bed. “We will talk more about this later. I fear I will be the next victim of Miss Weasley’s bat-boogey hex if I keep you from your friends any longer. I will talk to you again soon, Harry.”
As he turned to leave, Harry stopped him. “Sir? I … just wanted to thank you, for speaking to my mind. What you said… it gave me courage.”
The headmaster’s blue eyes were glistening behind his half-moon spectacles. “I am glad of it Harry. Never forget what I told you.” He turned to the crowd now waiting to see Harry. “Alright, Harry may receive visitors for a short time. Remember, he’s just come through quite an ordeal. I must ask you not to overtire him, please.”
Remus Lupin was the first to his side. He sat down and took Harry’s hands in his. “Harry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been more diligent, I should’ve…”
“Remus,” Harry stopped him. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. You can’t stop every bad thing from happening to me, any more than I could stop Sirius’ fall through the veil. You taught me that, remember?”
Lupin nodded. He put his hand on Harry’s head. “I couldn’t stay with you the whole time, Harry. There was a full moon.” Harry then noticed that Lupin had fresh cuts on his face and hands, and his face the haggard look it wore once a month.
“Didn’t you take your potion?” Harry asked.
“No. But it wasn’t too bad this time. Don’t worry about me, Harry. You just worry about getting well, all right? I’ll be nearby.” He moved aside so Harry’s other visitors could see him. Neville, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid – they all seemed so relieved to see him alive. Harry realized just how close he must have come to death.
Eventually Madame Pomfrey returned to bring Harry some soup, and to shoo away the visitors. Ron, Hermione and Ginny refused at first to leave, until Harry himself insisted – they all looked terrible, like they hadn’t slept in weeks. Before Ginny left, she kissed his hand. “I’ll be thinking about you tonight,” she whispered.
Harry pulled her to him. “I’ll be thinking about you, too.” And then, right in front of Ron, he kissed her. She blushed, and he saw Ron grin.
“ ’Bout time, you two. See ya, Harry.” Ron waved as he left, and Hermione kissed Harry on the forehead before she went to join him. Harry suddenly recalled seeing them under the mistletoe. He would have to remember to ask Ron about that later.
As Madame Pomfrey got Harry settled in for the night, Professor Lupin pulled a chair over beside Harry’s bed. “Goodness, Professor,” she exclaimed, “you don’t have to do that again tonight! Harry is going to be fine. You should get some rest yourself!”
“I’ll rest better right here, Poppy.” He met her stare with one of his own – not unpleasant, but determined.
“Oh, very well,” she said. She gave Harry a dose of a potion he was not familiar with. It had a very nasty taste, but not as bad as the Skele-gro potion he’d had to take in his second year, when Professor Lockhart has managed to remove the bones from Harry’s arm. The nurse bid them goodnight, and left them alone in the gathering darkness.
Harry was glad Remus was there. He felt uneasy about going to sleep – he wasn’t quite sure he would wake up again. The Professor’s presence was comforting. And he wanted to ask Lupin something.
“Remus,” Harry began, “why was Snape here tonight?”
Lupin leaned his chair back.”Professor Snape, Harry. He was here for the same reason we all were – he was waiting for you to awaken.”
This didn’t make sense to Harry. “But …why? He hates me; why would he care if I never woke up?”
“That’s an unkind thing to say, Harry,” Lupin chided him gently. “Severus may not be easy to get along with, but he would never wish harm on a student. He spent hours searching for an antidote for whatever poison you ingested. Thankfully, he found one.”
Harry couldn’t believe what he heard. “Hang on… you mean Professor Snape saved my life?”
“Undoubtedly. You would not have survived had it not been for his skill as a potionsmaster."
Harry thought. "That's why you didn't get your potion before the full moon, isn't it? Professor Snape was working on my antidote."
"Don't blame yourself for that, Harry. I would have never forgiven him if he had stopped his work just for me when your life was at stake. And he knows," Remus winked, "that I can be a formiddable ememy. And now,” the Professor reached up and adjusted Harry’s bedclothes. “Sleep,” he commanded. “I’ll be right beside you all night, and I’ll be here when you wake in the morning. Sleep, Harry. You’re going to be all right. Sleep, now.”
Harry closed his eyes, and the darkness that enveloped him was peaceful and calm, like the sound of Professor Lupin’s voice.
This is my first fan fic. If you get a chance, please let me know how I'm doing. Constructive criticism welcome!
- the author