AN: written for Fire The Cannon's Quidditch League Competition round four.

Prompt: Story must start and end with a conjunction word

I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters or places

Why had we not foreseen the consequences?

Why had we just ignored every sign that was given?

Even though I shared dorm room with him for five years, I know almost nothing about him.

I know who his parents were.

I know what he's done.

But I don't know him, not really.

I know his best mate is Ron.

I know his best girl friend is Hermione.

I know he likes Ginny.

But I don't know why, not really.

I know he retrieved an important stone.

I know he save Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets.

I know he survived Dementor attacks

I know he didn't enter his own name into the Tri-Wizard tournament.

I know he beat He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named again.

I know he taught us to fight.

I know he went to the Department of Mysteries and fought Death Eaters and He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named.

But I don't know how, not really.

He was a constant.

He was always there.

The matter what happened he sprung back up and kept going.

He was seeker.

Not because he tried out.

Simply because he was being a good friend.

He never complained about the ridiculous hour they had morning practices at.

Or the weather conditions they practiced in.

Those were our first hints.

He was always polite enough, if you hadn't wronged him.

Our school had turned against him so many times.

The first time it was because he could speak parseltongue.

Then it was because he got picked for the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Then it was because he said that He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named was back.

I feel bad because I believed what they said about him.

I had always thought that he had a great life.

Not the pampered, life of a prince Snape described.

But a good life.

Turns out I was wrong.

We were all wrong.

He had once told Snape, in one of their various arguments, that he would never wish his life on anyone.

I had thought he meant because of You-Know-Who's attacks.

But he didn't just mean that.

He meant that and so much more.

He meant the whispers as he walked down the halls.

He meant the slander in the press.

He had meant people trying to be his best friend one day and despising him the next.

But most of all he had meant something none of us realized.

We should have.

We could have.

But we didn't.

The first, hint had been his lack of complaints at the ungodly hour which he had to get up for Quidditch practice.

The second, was the lack of complaints at the weather conditions that they sometimes have to practice or play games in.

The third, having never complained about injuries, no matter how bad they were.

The fourth, he never talked about his family.

The fifth, when he was forced to talk about them he called them his relatives, never family.

The sixth, how small he was after returning from home.

The seventh, the lack of correspondence to his relatives.

The eighth, the fact that he stayed at school during both breaks.

He didn't mean to leave us hints.

He didn't want us to know.

He never wanted us to find out.

But he did leave hints.

Now we know.

We found out.

But not soon enough.

We found out too late.

For the wrong reason.

I'm pretty sure everyone thought Harry was invincible.

Even Malfoy.

We all knew what to expect:

His rivalry with Malfoy.

His hatred of Snape.

Him catching the snitch during every Quidditch game.

Sitting beside him in class.

Then suddenly, he was gone.

And nothing seemed right.

Mafoy wasn't yelling threats.

Snape wasn't sneering.

Everything seemed so wrong.

Just his presence always calmed people down.

They felt safe when he was there.

And now they didn't know what to feel.

The entire school seems to be in this frozen state.

We still went to classes.

We still had Quidditch games.

But it just didn't seem right.

Ron didn't challenge anyone to chess.

Hermione didn't nag everyone about getting homework done.

Fred and George didn't prank anyone.

We didn't suspect anything.

He didn't say anything.

He went back there.

Never liked it there, I gathered that much.

But he didn't seem to complain much either.

He went back, willingly, to those things.

Now he's in the hospital wing.

Now he won't wake up.

On the train he had been nowhere to be seen.

The welcoming feast; he hadn't been there either.

But at that point no one was really worried.

He didn't show up for breakfast the next morning.

He didn't come to morning classes.

By lunch most of the school knew something was really wrong.

Our afternoon classes were full of whispers, trying to figure out where he was.

At dinner the announcement was made.

Harry Potter was in a coma.

Questions had been yelled at Dumbledore from every direction.

But Neville's summed up all of them very quickly.

How?

That was the only word he said.

But he had yelled it.

The whole quieted, waiting for Dumbledore's explanation

But the headmaster had simply told them that such a question was not his to answer.

Some were mad, but most understood.

That night Ron told us what happened.

Just the three of us.

Neville, Dean and me

I don't know why.

Maybe because we're his dorm mates.

And although that was probably the answer, it might've been for a differentreason.

He told us that Harry's uncle did this to him.

Injured him so badly it put him in a coma.

Then everything made sense.

I noticed all the clues I should've seen.

Ron looked like he was about to faint.

We sent him to bed.

Strong Harry.

Harry who never cried,

Was in a coma.

I think the three of us gained a new respect for Harry that night.

We respected him for keeping such a big secret for so long.

There were many times when we should've noticed.

But we didn't notice.

We didn't help.

Why did we let our friend suffer for so long?

Why?