Title: The Man Who Sold the World

Author: Bleed Black

Disclaimer: I don't (unfortunately) have anything to do with Harry Potter. Actually, I don't have much of anything to do with anything. I just write my own fics, ok? If you don't like it, don't complain to me. Am I making you read the story? No, though many people think I have cast spells on them to make them like me. If you decide to come after me, all you will get is a few Johnny Depp posters and a pair of very uncomfortable shoes.

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This takes place during 6th year, while the rest of the story takes place in 7th. Please don't get confused!

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Prologue – Bleed Black

"Hermione, no!" Ron screamed as Hermione tumbled backwards, teetering precariously on the bank. Then in a final deciding moment, she fell backwards into the black depths of the Hogwarts lake.
Ron ran faster that he had ever run in his life. Harry didn't even turn around. He had to have fait in Ron and deal with the danger in front of him.
Harry's figure was shrouded in darkness, his face looking up at something he had never seen before in his life, save when he was a baby. In front of Harry loomed the inhumanly tall figure of a Voldemort returned to full power – a Voldemort ready to kill, done playing games.
Voldemort had finally, after 15 years, realized the true power of 'the Boy who Lived.' No longer did he taunt Harry or his friends. He was done messing around, ready to kill Harry the first chance he got, and disposing of anyone else who got in his way.
Ron couldn't help leaving Harry. There was no way he was going to leave Hermione to drown with the giant squid. He was so focused on being the hero, he never heard Harry scream.
Quickly casting a bubble-head charm on himself, he dove into the icy water and propelled himself deeper and deeper into the lake. Finally he caught up with and already unconscious Hermione. Grunting inside his bubble, he wrapped his arms around Hermione and kicked for the surface.
Before he could reach fresh air, Ron's flimsy bubble broke. By the time he reached the surface, he was nearly unconscious. He collapsed in a dead faint as soon as he reached dry land.

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Hermione awoke, some time later, in the Gryffindor Commonroom. A fire crackled nearby, throwing shadows on the walls. Someone's arms were wrapped around her. Hermione jumped up and stared at the couch she had been lying on. Ron lay asleep, a frown upon his face.
"The two of you have been like that for days," said a voice.
Hermione turned to her left. Harry sat in a nearby armchair, chin resting on his fist, elbow propped up on his knew. The firelight cast half his face into shadow.
"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Why aren't we in the hospital wing? Did I pass out? What happened to Ron? Are you okay?"
Harry continued to speak monotonously, not meeting Hermione's eyes. "You fell in the lake. Ron left me to get you, so I had to fight by myself. I brought you guys back to our dormitory. Both of you have been really cold so I bring you down to the fire at night. Nobody knows we were out that night except for Dumblefore."
"But why didn't Professor Dumbledore send us to the hospital wing?"
"Dumbledore can't send us to the hospital wing.
"Why?" Hermione asked, fear in her voice.
"What do you think, Hermione? What is the only reason he couldn't? Because he's dead. That's why. Because Dumbledore is dead."
Horror spread across Hermione's face. "D... dead? But... but... Harry, happened out there, that night?"
"It doesn't matter. We're still here. That's the end of it. There's nothing we can do about it. If I had the power to bring people back from the dead, don't you think my parents would be here? Sirius? Ron's dad, Fred, George, everybody?" He glared at Hermione, daring her to say more.
"Harry, it does matter! How can any of this not matter? Do you think people dying doesn't matter?"
"That's what you think, isn't it? You think I don't care anymore, about anything. Hermione, you have no idea how much I care about everything. There's so much you don't know about me anymore." He was silent.
Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say. She lay back down on the couch and wrapped Ron's arms back around her. Late into the night, feigning sleep, she watched Harry slice into his arm over and over again with his wand, which he had turned into a knife using some charm.
She wanted so much to stop him, but was afraid of what would happen if he found out she was watching. So instead she turned her head in to face Ron's chest and cried herself to sleep, shedding the tears that Harry deserved to release.