Diagnosis
For story warnings, see chapter one.
Disclaimer: I can only dream of becoming half the writer JKR has become.
Chapter 2: Growth and Development
..:..
Harry sat down at the dinner table and eyed the evening's choice of meals. This was a bad idea really, because what he found was the last thing he wanted to have to deal with right now. He really couldn't be bothered with it. Really, REALLY couldn't be bothered with it.
"Urgh!" he exclaimed in disgust and let his head fall down onto his folded arms on the table; Ginny giggled.
"Alright there Harry?"
"Nnnngh!" was Harry's reply, completely mangled and impossible to make out because of the fact that his nose was squished against the back of his hand. However, it did get the general point across and it put an amused smile on Hermione's face.
Harry lifted his head up so that he could be heard.
"I SO can NOT be bothered trying to guess what the hell the ingredients are for every freaking dish here. Whose idea was it to change the menu and experiment with the meal rotation anyway? I may have to kill them."
"Don't be so dramatic Harry, it's not that bad." said Hermione, still smiling.
"Says you. You can just pick up whatever you want and stuff your face. You don't have to analyse it so much that the last thing you want to do is eat it by the time you're done with it."
"I bet I can beat you this time, I only lost by one point last time remember? It was that cappuccino. Who uses eggs to make the foamy bit anyway? Any normal person uses just milk." Neville joined in.
"Sorry Neville, I'm not really in the mood. And besides, I still wouldn't have been able to drink a cappuccino anyway, even if it didn't have the eggs in it, milk has lactose remember?" Harry leaned his head in his hand—fully prepared to just go without eating—and sighed.
The smiles from his friends faded at Harry's lack of enthusiasm for their attempt at making a bit of a game from the necessary task of figuring out which meal had what ingredients in it.
"It's alright Harry, I spoke to Dobby in the kitchens earlier and he mentioned that they were trying out different things tonight. He said you could eat the spaghetti bolognaise when I mentioned your allergies."
"Thanks Ron, you're officially my favorite person right now." Harry spooned half a plate-full of food for himself and gave a tired kind of sigh. Once he had begun eating and talking to Neville, Ron and Hermione took turns at adding more bits and pieces of spaghetti bolognaise to Harry's plate when they thought he wouldn't notice throughout the meal, as was the routine.
Noticing an oddity at the staff table, Harry asked, "'Mione, have you noticed that the Headmaster has been unusually absent at mealtimes lately? It isn't at all like him."
Hermione shook her head in exasperation at her dear friend's mile wide curiosity streak. This wasn't the first time this term that he'd brought this to their attention. "He's both the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the head of the Wizingamot, he's bound to miss a meal or two, and with his ability to do wandless magic, and he can summon food from the kitchens any time he pleases. I don't mind to seem rude, but he doesn't answer to you."
Harry scowled.
This wasn't the first time his friends had brushed off his all-too real (in his opinion) concern.
"Yes but…these aren't ordinary circumstances. We're in a time of war."
"I don't disagree with you Harry, but if something is going on to cause him to be away from the school for long stretches of time, don't you think that a sensible man like him would take every necessary precaution to ensure our safety?"
"Yes. Of course, you're right, but after he left me in the dark last year…after what happened to S-sirius, I have every right to wonder if he's hiding stuff from me you know. He treated me like a bloody five-year-old. I'm not a child and haven't been for quite some time; I don't take kindly to being treated like one."
"I see your point, if it concerns you so, then just ask him," interjected Hermione kindly. "He's so use to having to keep information close to the vest that I don't honestly think that it was his intention to withhold whatever he has from you. I'm sorry if you feel left out and like he treated you like a mushroom by keeping you in the dark, but just talk to him about it." She knew that the Headmaster had told Harry something of great importance after the events at the Ministry, but hadn't pressed him for details yet. Perhaps that was the underlying cause of his curiosity and frustration where Dumbledore was concerned. Hermione decided that it was high time to change the conversation. What happened in June was a taboo subject around Harry these days.
For the first fifteen minutes or so of the meal Harry made an effort to include himself and act like he would normally, but he slowly began to fade from the conversation until he eventually was no longer even listening to his friends as they joked around and teased each other. They left him to his silence, knowing that if he didn't feel like talking there was no point in forcing him.
He held his glass of water in one hand and caught a droplet on the outside of the container with a fingertip, dragging it around the surface.
His friends thought he didn't notice when they made an effort to get him to eat more, but he did. He wasn't sure how long they had been doing it, but when he'd first realized it he had felt his heart warming at the thought that his friends would care about him enough to do such a thing.
He was really lucky to have met them that day in first year.
He couldn't help but feel sad that he would probably never get to see them as adults. That he might not get to see the kind of people they would become, or whether they changed for the better or worse. Who they would marry; what their kids would be like. He would miss it all.
But in a lot of ways he had already witnessed their growth and maturation. They had already begun developing into their more adult personalities, and Harry was positive they would all become amazing people.
He remembered Hermione as an eleven year old and smiled as he watched the girl in front of him speak happily and animatedly to Ginny, clearly content and comfortable. It was such a contrast to the small girl hiding under a bush of hair, utterly terrified she wasn't going to fit in. She had been so determined to prove her worth, by making it clear that she was intelligent and motivated to learn, adapt and fit in. Harry thought it was all just because she was unsure of herself in a new world where people seemed to dislike her on principle. She wanted so much to get herself a good reputation, and to be well liked among her teachers at this new school of hers. It was because of this that she had become almost obsessive about the rules. Harry didn't think he had ever seen anyone as highly-strung as Hermione.
But that was all different now. She was nowhere near as uptight and stressed out anymore. Instead she had mellowed out a lot and seemed far more relaxed about life in general. She understood that sometimes there are things more important than following rules. Her personality was much more friendly, open and welcoming. And she was much more understanding too, now that she could see things from a perspective beyond whatever would break the least rules. There was also, of course, the fact that she smiled much more than when Harry had first met her, and she had a spontaneous streak a mile wide, which Harry liked to think he and Ron had cultivated in her.
Well, maybe not that spontaneous, but whenever Harry and Ron decided to do something completely random and out of the blue she was always the first to come along and join in. She was a complete contrast to how she had started out at Hogwarts really.
Harry smiled and gave a quiet chuckle as the memories of his best friend flashed briefly in his mind's eye. He loved her to bits really. Who knew where he would be without her?
Giving in to the urge, Harry wrapped his arm loosely around Hermione's shoulders and brought her in to his side to give her the only sort of sideways hug that the table would allow. She turned her head and gave him a surprised look, but when he just smiled at her the expression quickly changed to one of happiness as she smiled back widely before turning back to her conversation without mentioning it. She did, however, exchange a pleased look with Ron as she tried to subdue her excitement at Harry's gesture of affection. Ron's expression answered her with hope.
Harry, however, saw nothing of this because he had just noticed Michael Corner get out of his seat, and was now watching as he made a move as if to approach their group. They all knew he and Ginny weren't on the best of terms and he had been spreading rumors about her and calling her names in an extremely childish retaliation to her rejection. It was as though he just couldn't accept she didn't like him like that anymore. At all.
Ginny was in the middle of talking to Lavender and Parvati about their latest encounters with the boys they liked, so they didn't notice the pending confrontation. Before the boy could do much, however, Ron grabbed a breadstick from the table and broke it cleanly in two, keeping eye contact with him unwaveringly. He then set about pointedly breaking it into tiny little pieces, which he then placed on his empty plate and crushed under his own glass of pumpkin juice enthusiastically. When he was finished, he simply stared at Michael, glanced back at the fine powder he had reduced the breadstick to, and spat in it for good measure. Michael simply turned around and sat back down, giving Ron a nervous look.
"Ew, Ron, what the hell did you do that for?" Hermione looked quite disgusted at Ron's glob of spit sitting in his plate. He just grinned at her.
"Sorry, thought a fly flew into my mouth. Don't you hate it when that happens?" Hermione just shook her head at him and returned to her conversation once more. Ron threw the Ravenclaw table one more glare for luck and resumed his own place in the conversation.
..:..
That night, when Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed, Harry overheard Dean and Seamus talking about Michael Corner on the stairs to the common room, reminding him of the incident in the hall.
"I saw that thing you did to Michael at dinner by the way," he commented, smiling in remembrance, prompting an answering grin to creep over Ron's face, who gave a snort of laughter.
"I was just showing the creep what'll happen if he keeps thinking he can mess with my sister. He's got guts I'll admit, being so obvious about coming to bother Ginny right in front of me, but that just gives me something to tear out of him and use as rope to hang him by later." Ron's grin turned wicked.
"You're lucky the girls didn't notice." Harry pointed out, pulling his t-shirt over his head and messing his hair up even further.
"I know. I don't see why they'd get all annoyed at me for doing it though. I mean, seriously, they can't expect me to sit by and watch someone act like a complete git towards them. What kind of brother or friend would I be then? I'll tell you: a crappy one."
"Nah, I think they'd appreciate it on some level. It's probably more a case of wounded pride that they didn't fend off the bad guy for themselves if you know what I mean. They're hardly going to be annoyed at you for wanting to look out for them."
Harry sat down on his bed.
"Well, what can I say, I just want to make sure people treat them right. Our girls are special." Harry agreed with Ron silently, knowing that the friendship their group of friends shared was unparalleled by anyone else they knew. And the whole school knew it too.
Ron finished getting changed into his pajamas and stood looking at Harry for a second before he finally poked him in the stomach.
"How come you're so fit? It's not fair! I play Quidditch all the time at home and I don't have abs like that. What the bleeding hell makes you so special? And your new glasses really add to your fit appearance. If you were into females, then you'd be attracting chicks like crazy mate."
Harry laughed at his grumbling comment and rubbed the spot where he had poked his stomach.
"Why Ron, are you jealous? Honestly though, I'm obviously going to have better muscles than you if I spend pretty much every second of my holidays doing something active while you spend your time lazing around and trying to avoid homework when you aren't playing Quidditch, which, let's face it, isn't exactly much of a work-out, really." Harry teased his friend.
"Lazing? I'll give you lazing!" Ron shook his fist at Harry in mock anger. "And I doubt you do that much more compared to me, it's not like I don't do anything while I'm at home y'know! It's hard work living in a big family like ours!"
"Yeah, well, the Dursleys made me get a job over the past few summers doing a lot of heavy lifting and stuff. I lost that job though so this summer past I got another one in a fitness suite. 'Nuff said really." Harry shrugged.
Ron looked at Harry askance as he climbed under his covers and made himself comfy.
"They made you get a job? Why?"
Harry climbed into his own bed and took off his bottoms under the covers, kicking them to the bottom of the bed.
"They said I needed to earn my keep so to speak. I give them all my wages and they…look after me…kind of."
Ron looked at him with a confused expression for a moment.
"Is that one of those weird Muggle tradition things I won't understand?"
"…Yeah. Sure."
There was silence for a few moments while they got comfy enough to fall asleep, with Ron giving one more comment before preparing to dive into sleep (it could only possibly be described as diving, as opposed to drifting off to sleep, due to the phenomenal speed Ron always managed this with).
"I don't know why you always sleep naked Harry, but I'm damn glad you don't sleepwalk."
Harry just laughed.
Once Ron had turned away from facing Harry on his bed, Harry lifted his covers up and looked down at his stomach, trying to figure out how serious Ron was being. He trailed his fingers over his abs. He supposed he was really quite toned compared to most of the other boys. A satisfied smile crossed Harry's face at the compliment Ron had paid him, proud that he apparently had a great body. He'd never really thought about trying to stay toned and looking good, it was just chance that had his circumstances resulted in him leading a very active lifestyle. Despite most peoples' assumptions about him based on his clothes and his hair, Harry did care about how he looked.
Secretly he had often been upset about the clothes he had been made to wear when he was younger, and in the present day he commonly felt embarrassed to go out in public dressed like he did. He had learned not to let it show however, because if he did then people picked up on it, which just brought more attention onto his atrocious wardrobe for people to make fun of. So he was thrilled that Ron had said he was fit. It was something good to balance the bad in his appearance.
Keeping in mind that he wasn't working at Hogwarts like he was at "home", Harry made a mental note to make an effort to try and maximize this previously unnoticed asset of his.
But how would any treatment that he chose affect his previously unappreciated (by him anyways) assets? Would the terrifying treatment plan, that he had no intent on worrying about until which time he felt ready, affect his messy hair? Would the magical treatment make it fall out like that Muggle stuff? Would he become as skinny as a rail? He sure hoped not because then who would find him attractive if he looked sick? He knew that his thoughts were bordering upon extreme vanity, the last thing he wanted to do is sound like Malfoy reincarnate, and he couldn't allow himself to appear thus even in the contours of his own mind. So he pushed those unbidden thoughts out of his mind. He still had time to weigh his options.
It was occurring to him again how important Ron was to him, much like it had at dinnertime with Hermione, and he was lost once more in memories of their first couple of years here together.
He had changed almost as much as Hermione had. He used to be so temperamental, getting under his skin was a piece of cake and it didn't take much to make him fly off the handle. Harry remembered he had been just as desperate as Hermione in first year, except instead of worrying about fitting in and doing well; he was more concerned about proving himself worthy in the wake of his brothers. He wanted nothing more than to be special, to be something more than what he was, something bigger, something better. His hot-headedness made it difficult for him to see things from other people's point of view as well.
Now, however, he was extremely loyal and protective to those he loved, which was easy to see in the small gestures he made like protecting the girls on the sly.
It didn't matter what Harry did or who he was, he knew it wouldn't matter because Ron had grown out of throwing temper tantrums. Now he accepted it and tried his hardest to understand it. And he was so much happier now because he was happy with whom he was and he didn't feel like he had to be his brothers better anymore. He was okay with just being Ron.
Harry felt a surge of affection for his best friends.
"Hey Ron? You asleep yet?"
"No. What's up?"
"I was just thinking…do you still wish you could be like your brothers?" Ron exhaled explosively.
"Whoo, loaded question Harry. Why did you ask that?" Ron turned back over to face Harry with his duvet bunched up under his chin and held in place with his hand under the covers.
"Dunno. I was just thinking. You and Hermione have changed a lot over the years." Harry smiled.
"So have you." Ron's smile had a rather sad quality to it, but Harry's mind repressed it, unwilling to deal with the possible meanings behind it.
"Well?"
"It's a long story."
"Aw, come on! I'm not really tired anyway, you can take all night to explain if you want."
"Urgh, alright. Since you insist." Ron got out from under the covers and climbed onto the bottom of Harry's bed, pulling the curtains around them. Once he was seated comfortably and Harry had sat up too, he began.
"Okay. Well, I guess it all started with Hermione. Well, I guess you were the trigger actually, but Hermione was the driving force. Do you remember that time before the first task in fourth year, when Hermione did really quite bad on one of her tests and was all depressed about it?" Harry nodded.
"Well, when I found out I rubbed her face in it and she got upset about it, especially when she got that letter from her parents saying they expected more from her. So, as you can imagine she wasn't very happy with me and I was really annoyed because I couldn't understand what her problem was, it was just a stupid test in my eyes. I didn't see why she couldn't just be happy, she did perfect in every other test anyway!"
"But then I saw her talking to you about it, crying on your shoulder, you know what I mean, and I got so jealous you wouldn't believe. I couldn't see past the fact that everyone seemed to love you so much, like everyone seemed to love my brothers, including Hermione. It was like I was the annoying third wheel or something."
"I confronted Hermione about it eventually. I accused her of fancying you and the both of you going behind my back and everything. And she got really mad, seriously, she went freaking mental! She was yelling about how I would never understand because I was such a selfish jerk and she said that you and her were so close to each other, instead of me, because you both knew each other inside-out and you had taken the time to get to know each other at every level of friendship. She said I was so wrapped in 'me, me, me' that I never noticed anything about the two of you. This was a very long explosion by the way, if you couldn't already tell." Ron grinned in his laugh-provoking way, which worked, as it usually did, to get an amused smile out of Harry.
"Anyway, yeah, so, she went on saying that if I had known anything about you then I would have known, or at the very least trusted, that you were telling the truth about the Goblet of Fire, instead of showing myself to be the true insensitive prick I was and deserting you at the first opportunity. I was furious with her, and completely in denial. I stopped talking to her for quite a while, I didn't want to believe what she said and stood my ground on the whole issue until you faced that Hungarian Horn Tail during the first task. I hate to admit it but when I saw you coming out of the medical tent that pretty much clenched it for me; I guess it really slammed home just what an insensitive prick I was being. Charlie works with dragons and I've heard plenty a story where he and the other handlers have gotten burned and his mate Rick nearly got roasted alive one day when he got too close to a nesting mother. But back to Hermione…"
"However, she had got me thinking at last. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and I dug out my families' old pensieve and put the memory of the night your name came out of the goblet into it so I could confirm to myself that I was right. Except I was so completely wrong." Ron seemed to cringe at the memory of himself while Harry hung on every word, fascinated with this part of Ron and Hermione's lives he had never known about until now.
"At the time I had been so blinded by jealousy I felt like I'd been stabbed in the back or something as soon as I heard your name. I never even bothered to stop and think. I didn't look at you or ask you or anything. And once I looked back at the whole incident in the pensieve I finally did look at you and I could see that you were completely shocked. You didn't even move at first. When I approached you outside the medical tent that day." Ron laughed.
"You should have seen yourself Harry, you went green! I seriously thought you were going to keel over!" Harry gave Ron a playful punch on the arm for teasing him, and Ron rubbed it, pretending to look wounded at his cruelty before becoming serious once more and sighing.
"I felt absolutely horrible after that. I spent a lot of time thinking about it and I sort of realized that I had spent so much time feeling wronged by everyone for not liking me as much as they liked everyone else that I had never bothered to actually do anything worth being liked for. I had no idea what to do with myself. So I went and talked to Hermione. Well, I apologized first actually, and asked her to help me figure out how to fix things. She told me I wasn't the one I needed to apologize to, but she also told me that I just needed to stop worrying so much about myself and my perceived problems and make an effort to actually put myself in other peoples' shoes. I think she said I needed to learn how to feel empathy or something. Then I would understand them and I would actually be giving something back to the relationship instead of just taking all the time. I remember I was dead chuffed actually, she told me I was really funny and the first thing I could do to change things was make up with you and start cheering you up, cos she was useless at it."
"So I went to the first task that day and made up with you as you know and we went from there, but I still felt like I wasn't really any different, you and Hermione were still closer. So I made a point of keeping my eyes open for a chance to prove that I did really care about my friends and family, and finally there was a time where Hermione was really upset because she was really worried about you." Ron deliberately skimmed over this part, though Harry didn't notice his pointed lack of details.
"I noticed she was feeling down and I went and talked to her about it, and I actually listened to her for once, and it was amazing! I'd never felt that…I dunno…needed or important to someone I guess. I think Hermione was surprised about me even noticing let alone caring enough to take the time to talk to her about it and reassure her. But I did and I think that's more or less around the time where I started getting more involved in the lives of the people I considered close to me, and less preoccupied with who my brothers were close with. What need did I have for what they had when I had my own life to live and be happy with?"
"That's basically the story. I'm glad Hermione took the time to try and help me become a better person though. Other people wouldn't have believed in me or had the patience she did. There, happy now?"
"Yeah. I'm just…I can't believe I never noticed any of that happening!"
"Oh, you did. Hermione and I just played it off as a tiny little thing like having a bad day or something whenever you picked up on the tension or me feeling out of sorts. There was no way we were convincing you everything was okay so we just had to tell a few white lies and downplay it a bit."
"Well, why didn't you just tell me?"
"…I don't know." Ron looked thoroughly confused. "I guess…I think it was just something I needed to figure out on my own. Hermione pushed me in the right direction but the rest was up to me. And I'm much happier for having figured it all out. But I'm going to sleep now, that was way too long a story for this time of night." Ron said, a yawn taking control of his mouth before he pulled back the curtains around Harry's bed and climbed into his own. As the pair of boys said their goodnights, both were thinking back on the past.
Harry had been doing that a lot lately. Thinking about his friends. Growth. Development. The process of maturing. It was all something he might miss out on in some way or another.
..:..
Harry couldn't move.
He couldn't talk either.
He was frozen by the intense grip this latest headache had on him. It was the most painful yet. It struck him suddenly in the middle of potions class, when he had been getting some more armadillo bile from the potions cupboard, and boy did it like to throw its weight around in his head.
The glass bottle he had been carrying fell out of his grasp and smashed on the floor while he grabbed the desk beside him with one hand, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip, and used the other to hold his head, his eyes closed. It took every drop of willpower he had to get through the ruthless bout of pain, the tiny squeak of distress escaping his throat acting as the only indication he gave vocally that something was wrong.
People were asking him what was wrong, and Professor Snape now stood beside him, demanding an explanation.
But Harry had no energy to spare in order to reply right now. He focused on breathing deeply instead, his brow creased and his eyes squeezed tightly closed. When the pain didn't fade after the initial explosion however, he couldn't help the desperate whine that escaped his throat. His fingers tightened their grip in response, pulling on his hair slightly, and he hunched his shoulders slightly by tensing them up completely. His body trembled with pain and the effort it took to withstand it.
Then, finally, it was over.
Everyone looked at Draco Malfoy askance while he stood there with his wand in one hand and a handful of Harry's shirt in the other as he lowered him to the ground next to his desk, which also happened to be the desk Harry had been using as support. He had just grabbed Harry's shirt and stupefied him.
He looked back at them all and gave a slight shrug.
"What? It's not like any of you lot were doing anything. I'd rather not spend my potions period watching Potter have a spaz attack, thank you very much. Now, can we please get back to the potion? I think his interruption ruined it." Draco scowled as he stirred his potion.
"Screw you Malfoy! Only you would think of your potion after something like that! If it was you, you'd expect everyone to be falling over themselves with worry!" Hermione snarled, looking more than shaken by Harry's episode.
"That is enough Miss Granger. You can clean up this mess for that little outburst there. And Mr. Malfoy, as you were the one to stun him you can be the one to take him to the hospital wing. I refuse to lug the boy around the castle."
"But Professor - !"
"No arguments, Mr. Malfoy. Go." Snape said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Both of the teenagers scowled at their potions master and set about doing what they were told, though Hermione couldn't resist telling Malfoy that if he dared do anything to Harry he'd be in for it, to which the boy just rolled his eyes and sneered at her.
Draco sighed and bent down, wondering how on earth he was supposed to pick the boy up. Eventually, he placed his hand under Harry's head and lifted him up so that he was in a sitting position with his other arm around his back. Once he'd done this he positioned the arm closest to Harry's head around the back of his neck, so that his head was supported, and then under his arm, pulling him in close to his chest so that Harry's head rested against him. Once he'd done this he used his other arm to scoop under Harry's legs at the knee and lift them up a little so that they were bent in an upside down "V" position.
Then he got stuck. He was in position. But he didn't know how to go from kneeling to standing without dropping Potter.
"Err…Blaise? A hand here please?"
Blaise laughed at him. "I wondered when you would ask."
The boy knelt down on the other side of Harry and placed a hand under Harry's legs along with Draco's, and another around Harry's back.
"Alright, one, two, three!" both boys stood at the same time with Blaise taking some of the weight and steadying Harry so that he didn't fall out of Draco's arms.
Draco began his journey to the hospital wing as he tried not to think about the fact that he was carrying his opponent in his arms, like some kind of simpering prince, carrying his princess off into The-Light-Of-Happily-Ever-After's. It was a concept he and Blaise had come up with during their usual playful banter, with the aim to tease Pansy for actually liking the pure cheesiness that muggle fairy tales churned out. Looking down at the boy in his arms Draco couldn't help but feel curious about what he might see, especially with the opportunity to study Potter without him knowing he was being watched.
It was kind of creepy to see Harry looking so vulnerable, thought Draco. Every time they had an encounter he was nothing but passion and energy, unwavering and strong, even in the face of Draco's most terrible insults.
It was one of the things Draco loved most about fighting with him. He actually presented a challenge. He felt guilty about arguing with other people because it always ended with him winning and the other person upset, it was too easy really.
But when he argued with Harry he could let go and stop thinking about how hurtful anything he might say would be because he knew it would all turn out alright in the end. Harry always bounced back and he never lost his animation. And best of all, he could keep up with Draco for wit and smart-ass comebacks. Most people were too intimidated by him to have their brain functioning enough to think of anything worth saying back to him in the heat of an argument.
It was kind of a relief to be able to do that with someone, because it let Draco throw out every angry and stressed feeling he had. It was a bit ironic really. That he would seek out an argument for the sake of stress relief when arguments and fights were one of the things people found most stressful.
He was almost at the hospital wing by now and looked down at his classmate in his arms. He was surprisingly light; you wouldn't guess his size and weight just looking at him. It was damn near impossible with the hideous excuse for clothes he wore. However, it looked like Potter had gotten a new pair of glasses. It's about ruddy time he chucked those in the bin; they weren't attractive in the least, not that Draco had been looking before. And he was only noticing his opponent's new glasses now because of his sheer proximity to the Gryffindor Seeker. It's not like he was ogling Harry bloody Potter like Pansy liked to imply on a regular basis.
The girls all said it gave him a manly, rugged kind of vibe, which they seemed to find extremely attractive. They liked a guy who could get down and dirty apparently, a guy who had no qualms about getting some hard work done using his hands, and his clothes most definitely suggested that he did.
He could see what they meant if he was going to be completely honest with himself but he had to admit there was a serious downfall to the clothes, and that was the fact that they did nothing for him. Most people had at least one top or pair of trousers or something that showed off one of their best features. But those clothes hid absolutely everything…however the glasses…only enhanced his green eyes.
Draco snorted.
The boy was completely clueless really, he was the boy-who-lived, he had serious potential to be the sweet-heart to every girl in the freaking school, but did he even try and look good? To catch their attention or anything?
Nope.
Idiot.
It wasn't like every girl didn't fancy him already. It was quite disgusting really. Even the Slytherin girls wished on some level that they were one of those important to him. He was just that nice to everyone. It was easy to see that he made you feel special if he deemed you worthy of giving you the time of day.
Well, maybe not so much anymore. For the last couple of years it was like Potter had faded entirely. Draco remembered he had been insanely touchy-feely with his friends. He was constantly hugging that Granger girl, and even the guys had gotten used to Harry flinging an arm around their shoulders and giving them a big kiss on the head while he joked around. Not the soft, sweet kind he would give all the girls, more like the kind of kiss that would go along with a cheesy grin before he ran off to do something crazy. And that was a fairly common occurrence. He was always doing something amusing, and he was the center of attention a lot of the time.
Recently however he had been keeping a bit of a low profile. His vibrancy and enthusiasm for life had dimmed, he stopped showering affection on anyone and everyone he liked, he talked less and less, and his laughs and smiles weren't the same either.
Draco remembered when he used to smile widely and easily, how when he laughed he did it with everything he had, letting go completely in the expression of his happiness and amusement.
Draco tried to pinpoint when Harry's spirited nature had begun to diminish. It had been a couple of years ago he thought. Around the time Cedric Diggory had died.
What the hell was up with him anyway? It had been ages since Harry had done much except go through the motions of life. Or, act normal at least. Anyone else observing him wouldn't see any difference, thinking he was acting just as any normal person would, but those who knew him would know that Harry was normally on a whole other level of living compared to others in reality. Harry acting like any other normal person was the equivalent to Harry on a downer. And now there was something wrong with him.
This recent incident in potions was probably connected to that time Pomfrey came to potions, Draco would bet on it. He had actually forgotten that incident, but it came back to him now.
He deposited Harry on the bed and met Pomfrey's eyes as she crossed the room to the bed he was standing at.
"I'm not sure what happened, he just dropped what he was holding and held his head. He wasn't responding and whatever was wrong didn't seem to be getting better so I stupefied him."
Poppy nodded and brushed Harry's hair out of his face.
"Thank you for bringing him Mr. Malfoy, you can go."
"Right. Bye." Draco tried to linger as long as possible so that he could see what Poppy did to treat Harry, if she used a potion he recognized maybe he could figure out what was wrong with him. But Poppy just made Harry comfortable and left him to sleep.
Draco left, disappointed that he couldn't figure out this new mystery of what was wrong with Potter.
..:..
Later that evening, Hermione and Ron sat at a table in the Gryffindor common room quietly discussing their friend. What happened in potions baffled Hermione, because Ron had reassured her that the other night when Harry had come into the common room wearing some snazzy new glasses, that Harry had said that they would help his migraines in tandem with the potions that he was supposed to procure from the hospital wing. No matter how much Harry and Ron tried to reassure her, Hermione knew more about the human body and the way that it worked than them. Her parent's medical background saw to that. Many people in the muggle world had turned their noses up when she had said something similar to them, thinking that if you were a dentist that you didn't have to go through the same pre-med school like a "real doctor", but what they didn't know was that her mum Emma Granger had minored in nursing because she hadn't yet made up her mind which route she wanted to take: dentistry or nursing. So yes she did indeed know what she was talking about thank you very much. The headaches seemed to be more to her than his Voldemort induced visions, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Ron brought her out of her musings by opening his Defense textbook with a loud thump. It was plainly obvious that he wanted homework help, so why couldn't he just ask? BOYS!
"I'm stuck on this last bit of my essay for Professor Jacobs. I can't find a third aquatic magical creature who is known for its viciousness against humans and other species."
"Think about it Ron" admonished Hermione. She loved Ron dearly, but she wasn't willing to give up her academic integrity by allowing him to copy hers unless he was ill, since he wasn't, she was going to make him figure it out with her help. "You recall the second task of the Triwizard Tournament and Fleur's near disqualification when she failed to retrieve her hostage before the time limit?"
"Err, yeah. No bloke in his right mind could've missed that pretty little thing," replied Ron thickly.
Hermione huffed. "Well then, I'll leave it to you to figure out such a simple hint and to contemplate that 'pretty little thing'. Her sheer beauty will earn you an 'o' on your essay I'm sure," said Hermione the sarcasm dripping from her tone. But this went right over Ron's head.
"Come on 'Mione' can't you just tell me? Professor Jacobs information about the assigned essay was kind of vague."
"Not if you're too busy reminiscing about how Fleur looked when she came out of the lake dripping wet with scratches and bruises covering her head-to-toe from the very creatures that I'm trying to get you to name," said Hermione hands on hips.
"C'mon Hermione. You've helped Harry and I loads of times."
"I'll give you a hint, they're also refered to as water demons but don't expect me to get you out of a tight spot again, especially, when you're thinking of another woman when I do so, and just because I did in the past doesn't make it right. I have asperations to become Headgirl you know."
Ron banged his head on the table in frustration.
Then he had an eureka moment and he practically shouted, "Grindylows! How could I've missed that?"
"Honestly Ron, I don't know. But you finally got it."
"If Professor Jacobs wasn't such a ruddy poor Professor then I wouldn't have had to ask anyone."
"O really now? Professor Lupin already covered water demons in our third year. Were you taking a kip or something?"
"Nah, I just forgot about them, we went over so many magical creatures that year that's all."
Hermione laughed at Rons atypical behavior. He would never change. "Sure you weren't…you remember that. But I agree with you, he's the second worst Defense Professor we've had. I mean, he hasn't even started us on nonverbal magic yet, when every other professor has. Do you want to see if we can persuade Harry to start up the DA again?"
"Sure, as long as it doesn't interfere with his Quidditch practices. But please 'Mione, don't remind Professor Jacobs about nonverbal magic, it's really difficult to perform as is."
" I won't, but it's bound to come up in at least one of his lectures before the year is over. Honestly, Quidditch isn't the most important thing in the world. However, being able to defend yourself against the death eaters, dark creatures, and Voldemort is paramount to our survival. In comparison, Quidditch is but a tiny blip on Harry's radar, and I have a feeling that he would choose the right priority if it came down to it," stated Hermione.
In a rare show of gratitude, Ron thanked Hermione profusely for her help on his essay.
Changing the topic of their conversation a bit, Hermione said, "I do concur with you and the rest of the students about Professor Jacobs's teaching style. We already covered dark creatures in our third year. We're sixth years for crying out loud."
"Yeah, I never dreamed that we could get saddled with a Professor that almost matches the sheer incompetence of Umbitch."
Hermione was unable to hold in the chuckle that burst from her lips. And with that, Ron and Hermione put their slight disagreement behind them.
..:..
There was no way Harry could deny it now. Whether he liked it or not, whether he was ready for it or not, death was charging at him at a merciless pace, and there was nothing he could do about it. In two years he could very well be gone from this world, his chance at life expired, and could he truly say he was happy with that? Would it be worth it to have a few more miserable years fighting for his life on a daily basis, having poison literally running through his vanes; after all, from what he understood from Poppy, the other day, the treatment for wizards with cancer was far more intensive than the muggle method and wasn't a guarantee. Apparently, it would've been better if he was less magically powerful, because if his magic hadn't masked his symptoms for so long, he'd have better odds, because they could've caught it earlier. His magic had allowed the tumor to grow to an impressive size, though how impressive only muggle scans could reveal. Did he want quantity of life over quality of life? Decisions. It was an insurmountable decision, one that he wasn't sure he could make on his own volition, but then again, his whole life thus far had been comprised of moments of bliss in a world of turmoil.
He felt cheated that he might not be a part of his friends' lives anymore, but he was just realizing that his death would mean the end of his own chance at life. He was so proud of the people they were becoming, but where was his own growth and development?
Harry lay on his stomach along the Gryffindor couch, staring at one of his schoolbooks but getting no reading done.
After spending so long remembering everyone else as they used to be and feeling pleased for them at how far they had come since then, he couldn't help but take a trip down his own memory lane. What he found left him feeling utterly confused as the weight of his realization settled around him.
While his friends had grown with the life experience they gained, all he could see for himself was decay. He had spent the past two years floating through life as though things would never change while everyone around him grew up.
He could remember when he was in primary school, strumming away happily on a school guitar and making up songs to pass the break and lunch hour away. He'd been determined to learn how to play the instruments, and passionate about making music, because it was something that brought a lonely boy some joy into the terrifying world around him.
He was quite good at music in school actually. Art too, but he hadn't gotten quite the same buzz out of it in comparison to his music. The best thing about it was that the Dursleys couldn't care less about the creative subjects, so he was allowed to excel at them.
He smiled sadly as he remembered practicing as much as he could every day at school. His determination had paid off eventually when he could play the guitar, piano and drums extremely well and knew the basics of a number of other instruments. His best instrument of all, however, was his voice.
When was the last time he had sat down at a piano, or wrote a song? Or, for that matter, and most importantly, when was the last time he felt that simple, pure happiness?
If he could feel like that at a time when he had no one to turn to, why couldn't he feel like that now? Maybe he had grown up in a manner of speaking, maybe he had grown too old and understood too much to ever feel like that again.
But if that were true, why was it he still felt so stunted? It was like he was trapped on all sides so that any kind of emotional growth and development was prevented.
He couldn't even remember when he had started feeling like this, he just knew it had been that way for a long time and he never would have acknowledged it if it weren't for the cancer. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.
..:..
Three weeks had gone by since Poppy had discovered Harry's tumor and she believed it was finally beginning to sink in. She'd had enough time to think Harry's situation through, and there were some things she knew she had to deal with, including his reaction to the horrible news.
But that would come later.
First she needed to have a difficult conversation with Severus, which was why she was now standing in the doorway of his personal potions lab. He shot her a glance of acknowledgement, before turning back to the plant he was currently picking leaves from and eyeing the simmering potion on his desk every few seconds.
"I haven't yet finished that Pepper-Up potion, it still needs to stand a little longer. I will bring it to you tomorrow."
"That's not why I'm here. I-"
"In that case I'll get started on the burn salve once I'm finished with this, I thought you'd be running low by now."
"Severus, I'm not here about potions. Well, not for the hospital wing anyway. I need to speak with you."
His hand slowed in its journey from the stirring rod to the next ingredient. He turned to look at her for a few seconds and seemed to find whatever it was he was searching for.
"I won't be long in bringing this to a stage where it can be left to sit. If you find yourself a seat in my office, I can be with you fairly soon."
Poppy gave him a small smile, thankful he was a perceptive enough man that she didn't have to spell out that the topic of conversation she had intended was one she considered important. Urgent even.
It wasn't long before he appeared on the threshold between lab and office, wiping his hands on a cloth and making his way around his desk to take a seat. Once he was settled and sufficiently potions-ingredient free, he indicated he was listening and that Poppy should begin her explanation of what she wanted of him.
"I was wondering if you could come up with any possibilities for a potion capable of breaking, or at least bending, the Healers Oath?"
The man raised an eyebrow, causing Poppy to blush as she realized how this would probably look.
"And why would you feel the need to do that?"
"I can't tell you without breaking it first."
"So it's the confidentiality component you wish to break then." Severus frowned. "As I'm sure you are aware, Poppy, The Healer's Oath exists for a reason. I can't think of a good reason you might have for wanting to be free of it."
Poppy clasped her hands in front of her in her lap in an effort to remain calm when it seemed as though Severus did not seem particularly willing to help her.
"Of course they exist for a reason. It is for that specific reason that I am interested in the possibility of breaking it in the first place! My duty as a healer, and as someone who took that oath more seriously than I would my marriage vows, is to see to it that anyone under my care does not come to any unnecessary harm if it is within my power to prevent it. But that vow is stopping me from doing so! By breaking it, I would really be ensuring the purpose for it was recognized and respected!"
"While that is undoubtedly the most animated I have ever seen you in putting your point across, I can't help but be wary here Poppy. If there is a problem with one of the students that worries you, why not just go to their parents, or alternatively, should the parents be the problem, the Oath's Exception? If it is a student with problems involving abusive parents then Dumbledore will no doubt be the Oath's choice of Exception as he is the most responsible for their care beyond their guardians at this time, what need do you have to break healer-patient confidentiality beyond that? You know as well as I do that it is highly unethical to do what you are asking of me. Especially considering that you can't, apparently, give me your reasons for doing so."
"Then I guess you will have to make the decision based on nothing more than what you know of me and what reasons you believe I would and wouldn't do this for."
Severus sighed and placed his chin in his hands with his elbows on the desk, a far-away look coming over him as he contemplated this predicament. After a rather long wait, he eventually seemed to make up his mind, giving Poppy a stern look as he delivered his verdict.
"Consider yourself lucky that I think of you as a more than trustworthy woman. I will begin work immediately. I have a few theories beginning to form already."
Poppy seemed to sag in her chair with the release of tension in her muscles at his decision.
"Thank you Severus, I promise you won't regret this. It's you I wish to speak to about the matter with actually, I feel you could be a great help in the given situation." Severus looked slightly surprised.
"Oh. Well, I will inform you as soon as I think I have a working formula. Goodbye." replied Severus as the pair stood from their seats.
Poppy smiled a wide, relieved grin.
"Thanks again. You've done the right thing here." she said, before leaving the potions master to his complicated formulas and ingredient lists, closing the door softly behind her.
Now all she had to do was deal with Harry.
She would understand if Harry had been profoundly upset at the news of his cancer, but she had the sneaking suspicion that he was in denial. Three weeks was enough time for the reality of his situation to hit home, so shouldn't he have made some kind of reaction by now? The only thing slightly different she could make out was that he spent a lot more time just sitting and observing those around him, looking contemplative, but not necessarily definitely sad or definitely happy. As far as she could tell her revelation hadn't put him up or down overall.
That worried her.
..:..
Harry chewed his lip, feeling utterly conflicted staring at the hospital wing doors.
Should he go in, or should he leave?
He had done a lot of thinking lately, but despite his struggles he hadn't managed to figure anything out. Instead it seemed like all he had managed to do was trigger a chain of other thoughts and realizations in a domino-like effect, which left him completely confused and unsure.
He felt like he needed to run his thoughts by someone else. He really wanted to talk to Poppy, but he didn't want to seem like some kind of wishy-washy drama-queen that got all emotional over something completely insignificant just for attention, whether it was consciously or subconsciously. What if she just got annoyed at him for complaining and moaning at her all the time when, in reality, other people had it much worse than him?
And besides, what obligation did she have to listen to him? He knew that they were closer than the other students she healed, but that didn't change the fact that she was just a healer. It wasn't her job to act as an agony aunt for him. He really should be talking to his friends about this. Except he couldn't because there was no way he was telling them, they would be too upset.
But still, that didn't mean he could pile it all on Poppy, it simply wasn't fair. He should just leave; it was stupid to come in the first place really. He needed to learn to deal with things himself.
Harry turned away from the doors in front of him and took two steps, but was halted as he made his third by the sound of the door behind him clicking as it was opened. He whirled round to find Poppy blinking at him in surprise.
Poppy had been trying to decide how she could go about dealing with Harry's attitude to his illness and bustling about the every-day odd jobs to be found in a hospital wing when she had heard footsteps outside the hospital wing door. She had continued changing the bedclothes on the last bed for a further minute, however, without hearing them continue on past the door. Unable to quell the feeling of curiosity, she went to investigate.
When she opened the door she was rather surprised, but happy, to see Harry turnaround from beginning to walk back the way he must have come. When she could see his face clearly however she saw the fragile look in his eyes that spoke of uncertainty. She gave him a pointedly happy grin.
"Oh it's you Harry! I thought I heard someone out here, is there something I can help you with?"
"Em, nah, its fine, I was just…I mean…I didn't…I was just going to…" Harry was fidgeting awkwardly in place, not knowing what to give as an excuse for being there, to which Poppy's smile softened.
"Would you like to come help me with restocking the potions shelves? I'm afraid I have an awful lot to do, I could use a hand." Harry finally relaxed a little and gave a small smile to the healer, seeing she wasn't suspicious or annoyed at finding him there. Instead she seemed rather cheerful at getting the opportunity to ask him if he wanted to help her in the hospital wing.
"Sure, I'd love to. I'm a bit bored anyway, I guess."
Poppy stepped back from the door so that her outstretched arm held the door open, allowing Harry to duck inside through the space between her body and the door.
"Just over here Harry. I need to bottle a lot of the potions first so why don't you do that and then I can label the bottles as we go along."
Harry stepped up to the row of cauldrons containing differently colored potions, some of which had the consistency of water while others were more like sludge. There were even some that looked more like colorful creams than potions. Poppy directed him to the cauldron on the end full of a smooth, creamy pink liquid similar to how a strawberry smoothie would look, except without the seeds.
"What's this for?" Harry asked, picking up the ladle and swirling the contents around to get a better feel for the texture.
"Pepper-Up potion. This is my last cauldron actually; Severus is making more for me."
"Does he make all of the potions for the hospital wing?"
"Yes, we're very lucky for it too. Most of you children take it for granted but you just wouldn't get the same standard anywhere else. Few people are willing to put in the time and effort it takes to perfect each potion to the fullest extent of its potential effects like he does."
"Hey! I am not a kid!" Harry exclaimed and wrinkled his nose in distaste at the implication that he was still a child, gaining a giggle from Poppy at his stereotypical, teenage response.
Harry held back his usual derogatory reply regarding Severus though. It had become habit for him to dismiss any of the potions master's good qualities, but who was he to deny the man's innate talent and passion for potions, really? He may be a judgmental and bitter old man, but you couldn't really avoid the fact that he had a knack for developing seemingly impossible to invent potions. He could probably do anything if he set his mind to it.
He had invented the Wolfsbane potion, for example.
And so, maybe he could create a cure for cancer…instead of a regimen of highly toxic potions that would more than likely just put the cancer into remission instead of cure the brain tumor permanently. Because Harry knew of someone who's cancer had returned after going into remission. He didn't want to be diagnosed as cancer free only to have it return with a vengance.
If people like him could work so hard just to make other peoples' lives that little bit easier, or even to save lives entirely, then Harry felt like he really had no right to pass judgment that they had nothing about them that was worth the effort of getting to know.
Harry had never had reason to consider it before now, but it was people like Severus who could end up saving his life. There was just no way he could continue to walk around thinking that things were as simple as "He's mean and evil", and it was for this reason his professor would have his respect. He still didn't like Snape, unkind as he was. But Harry had one of life's lessons staring him in the face, and he wasn't one to ignore it. So he would take it on board, and stop seeing things in the clear cut shades of black and white. He would no longer assume he knew anything about people until he had at least made an effort to understand.
Wasn't it one of the things he himself hated most about being famous? That people took one look and thought they knew everything? That they could write a book telling his life story and everything he had ever felt?
Poppy saw the intense quality in Harry's gaze and made an effort to snap him out of it.
"Right then, we'll start at this end and work our way along then shall we?"
"Sure." Harry replied, blinking away his train of thought and picking up the ladle to pour some of the potion into one of the empty bottles, which were stored in boxes under the table. Poppy stood next to him, waiting to label the potion when Harry handed it to her for going onto the shelf, and began their usual form of casual banter and easy conversation, though there was a while which wasn't so easy when they talked over Harry's newfound thoughts and opinions on the potions master.
..:..
Later that evening Harry collapsed with no amount of grace onto the nearest hospital bed. He had been glad for the opportunity to spend some time with Poppy again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed how easy he found it to relax around her. She never seemed too demanding of him and he knew he didn't have to worry about saying something and have her think it was stupid.
Harry sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed at the reminder of why he had been here in the first place, and how he'd hesitated to walk through the door in his uncertainty.
He should have had more faith in her.
Poppy finished cleaning up their mess and came and sat down beside him.
"What's bothering you Harry? You know you can talk to me about anything." Poppy placed her arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in closer to her so that his head rested on her shoulder. Harry bit his lip.
"I think…" Harry began, unsure. "I think that I've been depressed for so long that it's like I've forgotten how it feels to be really happy or even normal anymore. There are times that I feel a moment of amusement something, like when someone makes a joke and I find it funny and laugh, but it always fades quickly. Y'know? I never just feel generally content, or happy, or at peace like everyone else. It's like that's their default but my default is to feel like crap and like I really can't be bothered with anything anymore. But it wasn't always like that. I used to be like them. And now…I might never get the chance to find myself again."
Poppy moved back a little and pulled Harry down so that his head lay in her lap and cast a warning spell on the hospital wing doors. Then she began running her fingers through Harry's hair in a comforting gesture while she thought on what Harry had said.
Harry meanwhile could feel himself getting more and more upset. He didn't really understand it himself, but for some reason he couldn't identify, he always felt fine until he had to talk about something to someone, and now he had told Poppy and she was acting all reassuring and comforting. It was almost as though he subconsciously thought that if he didn't talk about it then no one could react sympathetically, and if no one did that then he could pretend to himself that it really wasn't a big deal and he was being ridiculous. Then the problem didn't seem so bad anymore.
But he had told Poppy, and now the emotion came.
The first tear landed on Poppy's skirt as Harry's face crumpled up in an effort to keep them at bay, his fingers held onto Poppy's skirt at the knee.
Poppy rubbed Harry's arm and made soft reassuring noises, telling Harry just to let it out. It was far healthier than to try and bottle it up and she would just worry if he did.
With her coaxing, Harry let the tears run and the sobs tore through him, his grasp on her skirt death-like in its strength.
When the tears no longer flowed and Harry's body more shivered than heaved Poppy spoke once more.
"I can see you haven't been very happy Harry, and I know the cancer has scared you into realizing that you're missing something you don't want to die without. But that doesn't mean it is unattainable. It simply means that you haven't been looking for it until now. Do you understand?" Poppy looked down at the distressed boy on her lap, "Now you can go out there and do what you have to do, find what you need to find, and feel what you need to feel. Don't think of death as a reason you can't do many things. Make it a reason you will do them, instead of letting it bring you down. You have time left yet, spend it well and I believe you will find what it is that you speak of. Remember that as long as you've got something to live for, and you stay positive, nothing is impossible."
There was a pause where Harry considered her words.
"I guess…it's all about choices, isn't it? Dumbledore said something like that to me once. He said that it's our choices that make us who we are. So, I just have to make the choice between being a victim, and twisting this to make it positive, to become stronger, right?"
Poppy smiled.
"That's a very good way of looking at it Harry. And I think it's the key to you solving your problem."
"Well…we'll find out soon enough then I suppose…"
"And that reminds me," said Poppy trying to keep her voice sounding upbeat. "Have you given any thought to what I said last time? I know that the mere possibility of undergoing something that will make you feel wretched before you get better is frightening, but it's really for the best for you to make your decision sooner rather than later."
"Yeah Poppy, I know, but once I decide there's no going back is their? And the wizarding world is depending on me to defeat Voldemort," said Harry, happy to see that Poppy didn't shudder at the name as most of the wizarding world did upon hearing the name, which was stupid really. Merlin, it was just a bloody name. It isn't like Voldemort is going to suddenly appear in front of you like a jack-in-the-box and AK you on the spot for doing so. Nor did he have supersonic hearing that would enable him to hear it if his name was spoken and Harry was fed up with people acting like the name was some sort of Egyptian curse that would become active instantaneously by doing so. The wizarding world really was made up of a bunch of sheeple with the exception of a few intelligent people. Why he wished to save them he didn't know at times, however, the innocent children didn't deserve to die just because Harry cared more about his own health and well-being. He had made up his mind. "I'll agree to undergo those tests you spoke of the moment that it becomes apparent that I need to start treatment. I promise you that the next episode I have will be the last. If it happens sooner rather than later, I'll grant you permission to contact that person, but not until then."
'Would it be too late when Harry did decide?' thought Poppy. She was glad that she had asked Severus to make that potion, because she feared that Harry's decision would come too late for them to do anything for him.
..:..
A/N: This fic will share some components of cannon, like Dumbledore's mysterious absences. In cannon, his friends didn't believe him about Malfoy. Obviously Malfoy isn't the one who's scheming, but is someone else? Nonverbal spells will also play a role. The horcruxes will play a part in this one, but I can't stand the idea of the deathly hallows, so they won't factor into my fic, and Harry won't kill himself as a martyr as she had him do. The final battle will turn out differently and Harry will grow a backbone in this one :P
In addition, Harry's feeling a bit down in this chapter, but finding out that you have a form of cancer that could very well kill you causes one to grieve very much like if someone that was close to them died. Since I aim to make this as medically realistic as possible, this will be a theme in another chapter, but after that, he'll come to terms with his lot in life as we all must to proceed with our daily lives.
"on the sly" basically just means sneakily lol.
The next chapter will start out with Draco when he returns from classes on the day of their potions lesson when Draco carried him to the hospital wing.
