Title: Look after me
Written by: Angel-Of-Lightness
Summery: Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?
Look after me: Chapter Four
My hands shook as I feel to my knees beside his bed.
"Harry- Why? Why would you do this?" I sobbed into his side, as he lay shivering on the bed. I looked up to his face and could see little beads of sweat forming on his face.
The poison comes from a family of poisons that was used by ancient wizards to kill dangerous Animals and traitors in the middle ages. It must have been in Snape's display cabinet. My hands shook and the bottle fell from my hands, shattering across the wooden floor. I took a gasping breath, steadying myself on the floor. My legs literally came out from under me. The only thing I could think. Harry's going to die.
This bottle of poison was an advance on the latter. It was designed to cause the most painful death. I don't think Snape expected anyone to read up about it. But I had too. It looked like I wasn't the only one.
I looked up at Harry again; his eyes were slits and his breathing coming fast and uneven. I wished he'd told me earlier! I could have saved him…
I lifted my hands from the floor, blood dripped from my hands, as tears of glass fell from my skin. I pushed myself up to sit next to him, as his eyes fluttered and he shook. Sweat covered his forehead, running down his face.
I moved my hands to his face, leaving blood from the glass caused cuts on my palms.
"Why would you do this?" I questioned him again.
His eyes opened, and he coughed "You don't know what its like!" He looked away from me. But he couldn't! If he looked away, I might never see him again! If...If...
"Know what Harry?" I shook him, and he spluttered and panted "Know what?"
"What it's like!" He gasped "Knowing you're going to kill or be killed. Knowing you're putting your friends in danger with each breathe you take. I read- and I had a theory-"He broke of, gasping madly through coughs. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, I panicked, and shook him again, my eyes widening.
"A theory! You took a poison because of a damned theory!" I was angry, so angry.
He took two deep breathes, regaining his breath and nodded.
"What theory?" I questioned calmer, I needed to know. He'd done something because of a theory! He was a fool!
"If I died, Voldemort would die too! We'd always go on theorys…" This seemed to take the last of his energy, and he lapsed, going limp- and stopped writhing.
"No! You fool, Harry Potter! You godamned fool!" I screamed, my voice shaking around my head. My tears pouring from my eyes. I gathered him into my arms, and put my forehead to his, watching his closed eyelids flutter. His pulse was weak.
I screamed again, "Harry!" A feeble cough escaped him, and he took a few deep breathes each hitching painfully, and soon he was wheezing and coughing his way into breaths. I sobbed into his chest. "Don't Harry!"
My head flung around as the door crashed open. A crowd of people poured in. I pushed Harry from my arms gently and ran. Crashing my arms around Ron and sobbing into his jumper. I looked up, and through blurred vision, saw Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore lifting Harry silently from the bed. Harry's head and legs lolled from their arms horridly, I sobbed hard and my legs gave way again. I felt Ron lower me to the ground. The crowd behind us gasped, whispered and gossiped as the professors carried Harry from the room. I buried myself in Ron's arms. Begging; Please let Harry be alright. Please, Please-
