Six people gathered around Harry's hospital bed. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. Hermione gripped Harry's hand, a knife clutched in her free one, just in case the unthinkable happened. "Why is he still unconscious?" asked Ron, who was standing behind Hermione. "Don't the infected wake up, like, an hour after they get bit?"

"As was discussed during class, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall (not nearly as stiffly as she normally spoke) "no witch or wizard has ever received a bite from any sort of Zombie. The affects are completely unknown."

"All the more reason to get rid of him!" cried Fudge, almost frustrated that Harry had not been stabbed in the head or expelled yet. "What if he's infectious? He'll kill us all! Just take him into the forest, let it find its own way!"

"Oh, so now he's an it, is he?" growled Hagrid. "Harry ain't dangerous. He'd never hurt no one!"

"How do you know that?" demanded Umbridge. "What if he tries to eat someone?! Eat me!"

"Then, by all means, it is no loss!" hissed McGonagall. Then, she turned to Dumbledore. "He's not going to turn. Is he, Albus?"

Albus was silent.

"Albus?"

Again, silence.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" he stood angrily and glared dangerously at Minerva, then collapsed with a sigh. "I don't know." He muttered again.

"That's what I thought." Said Fudge, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"We'll wait and see the eyes. We need to know what they look like before we do anything. If they're green, than there is no reason Harry should not be able to attend school. However, if the irises have turned black, than Hagrid, Mr. Weasley and miss Granger will take him out to the quidditch field to… do what is necessary." At this Umbridge giggled and Fudge grinned like a child who had just gotten a giant bag of candy.

Hermione kept her grip. Ron rubbed her shoulder. Both of them were staring at the Boy Who Lived with wide, terrified, tearful eyes. Neither of them wanted the eyes to be red. Harry had been a true, kind, loving friend to them both over the years. He'd supported Ron in his arguments with his brothers, even if he knew the other person was right. He'd held Hermione when she cried over a nine-out-of-ten paper, and didn't even get irritated with her. Now they were facing losing him forever. Neither of them knew what would happen if he left.

Neither Hermione nor Ron had ever been much of a believer, but they each prayed for the same thing now. Please, they thought. Please, let him live. Please don't take him away. Please.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry's eyelids fluttered. His friends, teachers and enemies all took in his new appearance. His skin was sunken and waxy, lined with black veins. His hair was now limp, and looked a bit like black seaweed. He gasped, and revealed that his teeth now came to a point. A slight groan instigated that his speech skills had been impaired.

And the eyes… one half of each iris was red, and the other was green, merging into a strange color where they touched. Dolores and the minister looked disappointed that they wouldn't get to kill Harry, but everyone else was just confused.

"What does this mean, Albus?"

"It means that the impossible has happened. Harry's will to live was so strong, the infection took over half his brain only."

"Meaning?" asked Hagrid.

"Meaning that Harry is still partly human. But he now has an insatiable craving for-"

"Flesh…" moaned Harry.

"Yes, Harry, quite right. But, think how this will help you defeat Voldemort! You are now immune to the killing curse! And-"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" cried McGonagall.

"What?!" he cried.

"He is UN. DEAD!"

"Well just because he's undead doesn't mean he has to be unemployed!"

Everyone in the vicinity groaned.