I'm sorry at how bad this chapter is. It is poorly written, with grammatical and spelling errors. I also don't like how the plot has gone. But I've been concentrating on several rather important things in real life but I'm kind of worried about not updating, so yeah...
Harry could feel himself drifting between consciousness and not. Every sound was staggered, blurred. All he saw were slowly drifting blobs.
"Quick! He's falling into a coma! Madam Pomphrey!" It was the young assistant nurses voice. It was the last voice Harry heard before he slipped into darkness.
"I'll kill Umbridge! I'll kill her!" Hermione and Ron had been called to the hospital wing as soon as Harry was out of it, in a coma. Remus was sat beside Harry, a terrified look on his face, tears welling in his eyes. Sirius, as Snuffles, was lying on his stomach, occasionally letting out a deep, mournful howl. Hermione was softly crying, but Ron was raging. Harry's vitals were normal, but apparently he'd just slipped into the coma when one of the potions had a dash to much leech juice, rendering it ineffective. Madam Pomphrey bustled past every hour, giving him nine different potions and dully muttering several charms. They refused to give him to St Mungo's because of all the negative publicity towards Harry, so instead brought in several healers that were part of the Order that kept an eye on Harry and brewed complicated stomach strengthening potions and blood enrichments that even Snape would have struggled with.
"Class, today we are going to be reading chapter seventeen, Charms and when is appropriate to use them." Umbridge sweetly said. The whole class gave her a hostile glare. Harry had been in a coma for a month, and DADA had been getting steadily worse. But that lesson, the pure happiness set something off inside of Ron as he thought of Harry's pale body stretched out on the bed, and it was all her fault.
"No!" Ron shouted. He stood up, picked up his book and ripped it in half before throwing the pieces on the floor. "Why should you still be teaching us after what you did to Harry?". Anger coursed through him as he picked up Hermione's copy of the book and ripped it to shreds, Neville's copy, Dean's copy, Lavender's copy, Seamus's copy – until Umbridge came up to him and slapped him, once on each cheek. Then he stopped dead, turned to her and slowly spat,
"I quit. I'm leaving."
"Ron!" Hermione gave a frightened gasp.
As Ron swept from the room, a huge cheer went up through the room. Hermione hurried after him.
"Ron, wait?"
"What?" Ron asked savagely. "Are you going to try and persuade me not to go?"
"No." Hermione said bravely. "I'm going with you."
Six hours later, Remus was on his way to the shrieking shack. When the owl had swooped to him with a note from Ron explaining everything, something exploded in the pit of his stomach: anger, guilt, laughter, amazement. He stormed down the passage way, not caring that he was getting covered in dirt. When he finally reached the shrieking shack, he was slightly startled: Hermione must have been casting spells left right and centre. The place was clean, very clean. Scourgify Maximus, I assume. Several pieces of rubble had evidently been transfigured, as there was a table in the centre of the room with a comfortable looking armchair sitting either side. A pocket radio sat in the middle of the table, and a shelf on the wall was bursting with school books and other educational books evidently from Hermione.
"Ron? Hermione?" He called. He heard a small squeal, then Ron's voice. Then, two figures walked downstairs, side by side, each pointing their wand. When they saw it was Remus, they lowered them.
"Remus?" Ron asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing! When I got that note, can I even express how worried I was? If Molly finds out she will go insane, and I dare say she already knows! Ronald Bilius Weasley, you explain exactly what happened in that DADA lesson and why you are now here!"
"That cow was being so sweet and nicey-nicey, and I just thought 'why is she still teaching when Harry could die?'. And my temper just exploded, and I ripped everyone's books up. I announced I was leaving and Hermione followed and suggested we stay here. She hopes Umbridge will be out by the end of the year, so we will be able to return to do out OWLs. Hermione said we could do work here, learn here, and still visit Harry somehow. Plus, here we can get to Hogsmeade and buy food. Neither of us could put up with her any more, though."
Remus sat with a flump on one of the armchairs: he was close to losing Harry and for a moment he'd thought that he'd lost the two other children that brightened his life and gave his smile purpose.
"Study hard, I'll bring you books and I'll make sure you always have food. You'll be safe here, but if Umbridge is not out by the end of the year you may well end up leaving here." Remus spoke quietly, aware that his words were muddled.
"Are we in trouble?" Hermione quietly asked.
"Not with me. I'm not responsible for what Molly does, though. I will have to let her know you're here, and I can give her any letters you write to her, but I don't think you should see anyone."
"Thank you, Remus."
"At midnight, wait by the passage opening. I'll come to take you to see Harry. You can hide under his cloak and still see him."
"Thank you, Remus."
"Now, do you have any food?"
"Yes. I went down to the kitchens and collected some. Come into the kitchen, I'll get you a cup of tea."
Remus followed Hermione and Ron into the small side room. Evidently scourgified to within an inch of its life, in one corner there was a fire with a metal grate over it: on top of this stood a large stainless steel pot. There was another table in the corner, this one with a tablecloth on it and two plain wooden chairs sitting at it.
"You're amazing at transfiguration, Hermione."
Hermione blushed. "Thank you. I was just upstairs, trying to make a bedroom for me and Ron." Hermione knelt down to a cupboard and opened it.
"We've got about two litres of milk, a box of tea bags, a box of coffee, a jug of pumpkin juice, several loaves of bread, two rather large cakes, about a pound of cod, six jars of apricot jam, two boxes of Pixie flakes, about three kilo's of dried broad beans, a jar of lentils, a bag of apples and several other foods. Plus, there's the tap on the wall and Ron still has some sweets from Hogsmeade, so this'll last a fair while."
"Have you got cutlery and plates and that?" Remus asked.
"No. I can easily do some transfiguration, though." Hermione replied, not noticing Ron take an apple from the bag and start surreptitiously munching on it.
Harry was falling, falling, falling. He couldn't understand it. He was thinking normally, breathing normally, yet he only saw black black black, and he was tumbling. Where am I? He didn't know. What was happening to him? And suddenly, an abrupt halt. Harry was strewn across a solid, dark floor. It was rather uncomfortable, but he didn't want to move. He was so, so tired. He blinked, and noticed a flash of light when he closed his eyes. He once more closed them, and saw faint white light, blurred figures. He was so tired, to tired to dwell on it, so he just closed his eyes. He was essentially asleep, yet not. He was in a state of deep, deep sleep, almost as deep as coma, but not quite.
Molly Weasley was frantic. Ron had...quit? Quit Hogwarts? Anger bubbled up in her stomach, threatening to spill over, but then she thought of what Remus had written. Perfectly safe...in the shrieking shack...with Hermione... It was the 'with Hermione' bit that calmed her down. If Hermione had gone with her son, then she knew it was for good reason. She hadn't yet seen Harry in his state – Madam Pomphrey had only allowed two visitors and she knew that Remus and Sirius were the most important visitors. But she was desperate to see the boy she thought of as a son. If he died before she saw him...she couldn't bear it if her...son died.
Ron couldn't sleep. He was stretched out across his Hogwarts bedding (Hermione had insisted they charm everything with locomotor, from the mattress to the hot water bottle. But, although he was in the usual comfort, the room still had an odd, musty smell of old, old blood. No matter how many cleaning spells he and Hermione used, the smell remained. Probably from Remus's old transformations. He suddenly heard a stifled yawn across the room where Hermione was.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Ron?"
"Can't you sleep either?"
"No – I dread what mum and dad will say when they find out that I quit school. One day I walked out of my primary school after I accidentally turned this bully Esme's hair green. I walked into the village, then went home on time. But Mrs Cayton, the head teacher at my primary school, phoned my mum and dad and said that I had poured green paint over her hair – it was the only reasonable explanation she could come up with."
Ron gave a snort of laughter. "What happened?"
"Mum smacked me. Only time she ever did." Hermione's tone was rather glummer than it had been before, and Ron felt a sudden...urge. He carefully pushed off his quilt and sheets, crept forward, knelt down beside Hermione and was about to lean forward to kiss her when he felt lips on his.
"Hermione?"
"Ron."
"Did you just...?"
"You're so silly, Ronald! Of course I did!"
Ron blushed in the darkness: he'd had a crush on this girl since the end of third year and then when he went to kiss her, she'd kissed him! And for a second, he forgot everything: he forgot Harry, he forgot Umbridge, he forgot everything. He was just enjoying the pure happiness, the elated feeling she had given him.
Please review and tell me how bad this one is :)