A/N: This story is for two of my good friends, Alexandra P. and Sylvia M. Alexandra, you can fight it. I know you can. Sylvia, you're doing great! When you get out of rehab, I'll take you on 2 years worth of shopping trips. We totally have to catch up! And to everyone who is depressed, addicted to drugs, or on that path, be strong.
Disclaimer: Only the plot's mine.
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Escape
Harry walked aimlessly around Muggle London, depressed. To everyone, he was perfect. He was rich, smart, famous and had the perfect girlfriend. What more could a guy want? Harry thought bitterly as he kicked a rock.
A little ways down the street, he saw a group of teenagers. As he got closer, a familiar bunch of flaming red hair became visible.
"Ron!" Harry called, jogging up to him. "How are you?
"I'm good." answered Ron, placing a small plastic bag in his pocket.
"Hey, what's that?" asked Harry, nodding towards the bag.
Ron grinned. "Nothing that Perfect Potter needs to know about."
Harry groaned. "Why does everyone think that I'm perfect?"
Ron's grinned turned loopy. "Because people want to believe that their whoa!" He staggered, then steadied himself. "That their saviour is perfect." Ron continued to walk shakily.
Harry placed a hand on Ron's forearm. "Are you okay? You're acting-" Realisation dawned on Harry. "You're high!" Ron laughed maniacally.
"Ding, ding, ding, we have winner!" He patted his pocket happily. "This little medicine is the last step on the stairway to heaven. You should try a spliff sometime."
Harry eyed the bag. "How about now?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
iA few weeks later/i
Harry and Ron stood around in an old London alley, hats pulled low over their eyes to hide Harry's scar and Ron's red hair. They bought as much "shit" as they could, since they were going back to Hogwart's in a week and Hermione was staying with them in Diagon Alley until then.
"Thanks. See you soon." Ron said and the two boys headed back to the Leaky Cauldron so that they could put their stuff away before Hermione arrived. To their surprise, she was already there, and waiting.
"Hello, er, Hermione. How's it going?" Harry asked as Hermione stormed up to him.
"Why haven't you been answering my owls? And why did I find this," she waved a bag of heroine in front of Harry's face, "On your bed?" "Uh, I've been busy with homework and that shit isn't mine!" Harry said, dazed.
"Harry, I can smell it all over you? Why are you doing this to yourself? Why?" Hermione pleaded as she searched Harry's glazed over green eyes, tears welling up in her own.
"Because I need a break from being 'Perfect Potter!'"
"Do you know how bad this is for you? Do you want for the newspapers to read 'Harry Potter Dead From Overdose?' What would your parents say?"
Harry grabbed Hermione's shoulders, more roughly then he intended to. "It won't happen to me. I'm careful." Hermione wrenched herself out of his grasp.
"Harry, I'd stand by you until the world ended. But I can't help you if you're self-destructing. Owl me when you see error in your ways. You as well, Ron." Hermione threw the bag onto the floor, then stomped out of the room angrily. Harry picked up the bag and took some heroin out (A/N: Like I said, I don't do drugs, therefore I have no clue what this stuff looks like. I'm just guessing.)
"Harry, that's too much!" Ron said worriedly.
"Nah. You know what they say: The more, the merrier."
/---------------------------------------------/@\----------------------------------------------\
iHermione's PoV/i
Hermione rushed into the hospital, past the doctors, and to the receptionist.
"Excuse me, but what room's Har-" then she remembered Harry's code name. "Peter Darling in?"
The wizard conjured a card. "Room 207." Hermione ran down the corridors until she reached the room. Inside she saw Harry laying still in bed with the steady beep of an invisible heart as the only noise.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, though she knew that he would not stir. She settled herself in a chair. Stubbornly, Hermione sat there for days, only eating and sleeping the amount that the doctor coaxed her into sleeping. Finally, on the third day, Harry awoke.
"Harry!" Hermione said hoarsely.
"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Harry whispered, dazed. Hermione brushed his hair back gently.
"I was worried about you, you stupid git! How are you feeling?" Hermione was ecstatic.
"Ugh. I had the most bizarre... dream. My father was lying in this same bed and my mum was where you are."
"That did happen once." A familiar voice said from behind them. It was Dumbledore. "Your father also became dependent on drugs and Lily... well, she reacted how you did, Hermione. Everything happened the same, except James discovered drugs on his own." Harry looked at Dumbledore, shocked, as did Hermione.
"What... how did it turn out?"
"He recovered, thanks to a complicated charm that had been discovered just weeks before." "What is it?" asked Harry anxiously.
"Hermione, you need to hold Harry's hand with your left hand and your wand with your right, then say 'Non attachment.'" Hermione took Harry's hand, then accepted her wand, which Dumbledore held out to her. "Now, let me warn you: it is said to be highly painful, more so for Hermione then Harry. So don't feel obligated to do this..."
Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "No. I'm doing this. Non attachment!" she said firmly, then dropped to the ground in pain, though still holding Harry's hand in the wand.
"Hermione!" cried Harry.
"I'm fine. Is the spell done?" Hermione climbed to her feet.
"Yes. But Harry, remember: If you ever go back to drugs, you'll have to recover the Muggle way." Dumbledore looked at Harry solemnly.
"I understand." said Harry.
"Then I suppose that my work here is done. I shall see you at Hogwarts in a few days. Good luck." Dumbledore Disapparated and Harry looked at Hermione worriedly.
"Hermione, you should go to sleep! You don't look that good." Harry insisted.
"I'll sleep if you do." Harry smiled wearily, then closed his eyes. Keeping her promise, Hermione laid back in her chair and let good dreams flow over her.
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
Harry and Hermione walked up and down the train looking for their friends, finally finding Parvati, Padma, Ginny, Colin Creevey, Dean and Seamus in the train's last compartment.
"Hey, have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked curiously as she and Harry sat down.
"No, but maybe you could explain to us why he's been acting so strange lately. He's been hanging with iMalfoy/i!" Ginny said inquiringly.
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other guiltily.
"Please tell me!" begged Padma. "What do you know about Ron? I am his girlfriend, you know!"
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Well, you see, Ron's on drugs."
"What?" shrieked Padma.
"That's right. I'm doing drugs." Ron strutted into the compartment, flanked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "Harry, you're out of the hospital!" Harry smiled, holding out his hands. "Yeah, and I'm clean." Ron snorted in disbelief. "Nah, you can't be. Once an addict, always an addict."
"He just said that he was clean, Ron." Hermione said sharply.
"Aw, c'mon, Hermione. You don't honestly believe that he loves you, do you?" Hermione said nothing. "Aw, how sweet. You do know that he would have made you a crack-whore given the ch-" He was cut off by Hermione delivering a sharp blow to 'where the sun don't shine' and shoving him into his goons.
"Get stuffed, the lot of you!" she shouted in a manner much unlike her usual one, causing the boys to scurry frantically from the compartment.
Ginny's face had gone rather white during the conversation. "Ron...." she whispered, barely audible.
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
iA few weeks later/i
Professor Dumbledore rose at the High Table, quieting everyone at once. "I regret to inform you that there has been a death." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes rested on where Hermione and Harry sat. "Last night, Ron Weasley, a Gryffindor seventh year, died of an overdose on Muggle drugs." Gasps rang out throughout the room and Hermione tried to comfort Harry, who sat in a state of shock.
"Oh, man! Not Ron!" he moaned as Hermione's gentle hands stroked his back gently.
Yet Dumbledore did not seem to be done. "Drugs are a rising pronlem in both the Muggle and wizarding world. Everyday, thousands of people die due to drugs and thoudands more become addicted. Why do so many partake in these dangerous activities? So do drugs in attempt to run away from problems. Others just like the high. Whatever the reason, people do them. Pot, Ectasy, cocaine, crack, joints, Special K, meth, acid, yopa, peyote and 'shrooms. All of these, and more, are causing deaths around the world. This new killing trend must stop. So, please remember Ron Weasley if someone ever offers you drugs. Remember."
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
iA/N: Okay, what did you think? Just to let everyone know, I'm not a druggie. Never have been one, never will be one. I /iami minorly depressed, but that's all! Promise! You know those anti-drug commercials where they say "My Anti-Drug is _____"? Well, everything they say is true for me. Friends, dance, future, music, drawing, whatever, those are my anti-drugs. I've heard the kids who do drugs at my school talking about these drugs and how they're surprised that this one guy isn't dead yet, he's so wasted. They brag about how affected they were by the drugs, who did the most, whatever. I just want to know why they do drugs if they know the effects.
So, please, do me a favor if you do drugs: Quit. Go to a thereapist, go to a special rehab center, whatever you must do, just quit. That would be better then a million reviews for me. Here are some websites about drugs:
www.cascade.u-net.com
www.deal.org
www.drugfreeamerica.com
www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.health.org
www.ncadd.org
www.vpp.com/teenhelp/i
Disclaimer: Only the plot's mine.
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Escape
Harry walked aimlessly around Muggle London, depressed. To everyone, he was perfect. He was rich, smart, famous and had the perfect girlfriend. What more could a guy want? Harry thought bitterly as he kicked a rock.
A little ways down the street, he saw a group of teenagers. As he got closer, a familiar bunch of flaming red hair became visible.
"Ron!" Harry called, jogging up to him. "How are you?
"I'm good." answered Ron, placing a small plastic bag in his pocket.
"Hey, what's that?" asked Harry, nodding towards the bag.
Ron grinned. "Nothing that Perfect Potter needs to know about."
Harry groaned. "Why does everyone think that I'm perfect?"
Ron's grinned turned loopy. "Because people want to believe that their whoa!" He staggered, then steadied himself. "That their saviour is perfect." Ron continued to walk shakily.
Harry placed a hand on Ron's forearm. "Are you okay? You're acting-" Realisation dawned on Harry. "You're high!" Ron laughed maniacally.
"Ding, ding, ding, we have winner!" He patted his pocket happily. "This little medicine is the last step on the stairway to heaven. You should try a spliff sometime."
Harry eyed the bag. "How about now?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
iA few weeks later/i
Harry and Ron stood around in an old London alley, hats pulled low over their eyes to hide Harry's scar and Ron's red hair. They bought as much "shit" as they could, since they were going back to Hogwart's in a week and Hermione was staying with them in Diagon Alley until then.
"Thanks. See you soon." Ron said and the two boys headed back to the Leaky Cauldron so that they could put their stuff away before Hermione arrived. To their surprise, she was already there, and waiting.
"Hello, er, Hermione. How's it going?" Harry asked as Hermione stormed up to him.
"Why haven't you been answering my owls? And why did I find this," she waved a bag of heroine in front of Harry's face, "On your bed?" "Uh, I've been busy with homework and that shit isn't mine!" Harry said, dazed.
"Harry, I can smell it all over you? Why are you doing this to yourself? Why?" Hermione pleaded as she searched Harry's glazed over green eyes, tears welling up in her own.
"Because I need a break from being 'Perfect Potter!'"
"Do you know how bad this is for you? Do you want for the newspapers to read 'Harry Potter Dead From Overdose?' What would your parents say?"
Harry grabbed Hermione's shoulders, more roughly then he intended to. "It won't happen to me. I'm careful." Hermione wrenched herself out of his grasp.
"Harry, I'd stand by you until the world ended. But I can't help you if you're self-destructing. Owl me when you see error in your ways. You as well, Ron." Hermione threw the bag onto the floor, then stomped out of the room angrily. Harry picked up the bag and took some heroin out (A/N: Like I said, I don't do drugs, therefore I have no clue what this stuff looks like. I'm just guessing.)
"Harry, that's too much!" Ron said worriedly.
"Nah. You know what they say: The more, the merrier."
/---------------------------------------------/@\----------------------------------------------\
iHermione's PoV/i
Hermione rushed into the hospital, past the doctors, and to the receptionist.
"Excuse me, but what room's Har-" then she remembered Harry's code name. "Peter Darling in?"
The wizard conjured a card. "Room 207." Hermione ran down the corridors until she reached the room. Inside she saw Harry laying still in bed with the steady beep of an invisible heart as the only noise.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, though she knew that he would not stir. She settled herself in a chair. Stubbornly, Hermione sat there for days, only eating and sleeping the amount that the doctor coaxed her into sleeping. Finally, on the third day, Harry awoke.
"Harry!" Hermione said hoarsely.
"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Harry whispered, dazed. Hermione brushed his hair back gently.
"I was worried about you, you stupid git! How are you feeling?" Hermione was ecstatic.
"Ugh. I had the most bizarre... dream. My father was lying in this same bed and my mum was where you are."
"That did happen once." A familiar voice said from behind them. It was Dumbledore. "Your father also became dependent on drugs and Lily... well, she reacted how you did, Hermione. Everything happened the same, except James discovered drugs on his own." Harry looked at Dumbledore, shocked, as did Hermione.
"What... how did it turn out?"
"He recovered, thanks to a complicated charm that had been discovered just weeks before." "What is it?" asked Harry anxiously.
"Hermione, you need to hold Harry's hand with your left hand and your wand with your right, then say 'Non attachment.'" Hermione took Harry's hand, then accepted her wand, which Dumbledore held out to her. "Now, let me warn you: it is said to be highly painful, more so for Hermione then Harry. So don't feel obligated to do this..."
Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "No. I'm doing this. Non attachment!" she said firmly, then dropped to the ground in pain, though still holding Harry's hand in the wand.
"Hermione!" cried Harry.
"I'm fine. Is the spell done?" Hermione climbed to her feet.
"Yes. But Harry, remember: If you ever go back to drugs, you'll have to recover the Muggle way." Dumbledore looked at Harry solemnly.
"I understand." said Harry.
"Then I suppose that my work here is done. I shall see you at Hogwarts in a few days. Good luck." Dumbledore Disapparated and Harry looked at Hermione worriedly.
"Hermione, you should go to sleep! You don't look that good." Harry insisted.
"I'll sleep if you do." Harry smiled wearily, then closed his eyes. Keeping her promise, Hermione laid back in her chair and let good dreams flow over her.
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
Harry and Hermione walked up and down the train looking for their friends, finally finding Parvati, Padma, Ginny, Colin Creevey, Dean and Seamus in the train's last compartment.
"Hey, have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked curiously as she and Harry sat down.
"No, but maybe you could explain to us why he's been acting so strange lately. He's been hanging with iMalfoy/i!" Ginny said inquiringly.
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other guiltily.
"Please tell me!" begged Padma. "What do you know about Ron? I am his girlfriend, you know!"
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Well, you see, Ron's on drugs."
"What?" shrieked Padma.
"That's right. I'm doing drugs." Ron strutted into the compartment, flanked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "Harry, you're out of the hospital!" Harry smiled, holding out his hands. "Yeah, and I'm clean." Ron snorted in disbelief. "Nah, you can't be. Once an addict, always an addict."
"He just said that he was clean, Ron." Hermione said sharply.
"Aw, c'mon, Hermione. You don't honestly believe that he loves you, do you?" Hermione said nothing. "Aw, how sweet. You do know that he would have made you a crack-whore given the ch-" He was cut off by Hermione delivering a sharp blow to 'where the sun don't shine' and shoving him into his goons.
"Get stuffed, the lot of you!" she shouted in a manner much unlike her usual one, causing the boys to scurry frantically from the compartment.
Ginny's face had gone rather white during the conversation. "Ron...." she whispered, barely audible.
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
iA few weeks later/i
Professor Dumbledore rose at the High Table, quieting everyone at once. "I regret to inform you that there has been a death." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes rested on where Hermione and Harry sat. "Last night, Ron Weasley, a Gryffindor seventh year, died of an overdose on Muggle drugs." Gasps rang out throughout the room and Hermione tried to comfort Harry, who sat in a state of shock.
"Oh, man! Not Ron!" he moaned as Hermione's gentle hands stroked his back gently.
Yet Dumbledore did not seem to be done. "Drugs are a rising pronlem in both the Muggle and wizarding world. Everyday, thousands of people die due to drugs and thoudands more become addicted. Why do so many partake in these dangerous activities? So do drugs in attempt to run away from problems. Others just like the high. Whatever the reason, people do them. Pot, Ectasy, cocaine, crack, joints, Special K, meth, acid, yopa, peyote and 'shrooms. All of these, and more, are causing deaths around the world. This new killing trend must stop. So, please remember Ron Weasley if someone ever offers you drugs. Remember."
c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/c
iA/N: Okay, what did you think? Just to let everyone know, I'm not a druggie. Never have been one, never will be one. I /iami minorly depressed, but that's all! Promise! You know those anti-drug commercials where they say "My Anti-Drug is _____"? Well, everything they say is true for me. Friends, dance, future, music, drawing, whatever, those are my anti-drugs. I've heard the kids who do drugs at my school talking about these drugs and how they're surprised that this one guy isn't dead yet, he's so wasted. They brag about how affected they were by the drugs, who did the most, whatever. I just want to know why they do drugs if they know the effects.
So, please, do me a favor if you do drugs: Quit. Go to a thereapist, go to a special rehab center, whatever you must do, just quit. That would be better then a million reviews for me. Here are some websites about drugs:
www.cascade.u-net.com
www.deal.org
www.drugfreeamerica.com
www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.health.org
www.ncadd.org
www.vpp.com/teenhelp/i