(Authors Note) Sorry that it took me so long to update, but I've been really busy with my 'baby'. In class we have to have a bag of sugar/flour or an egg as a baby for a week and mine is sugar named Ethan Silas Harry. Harry as in Harry Potter. Actually, I'm making a scrapbook about him and his 'father' is Harry Potter. Quite amusing. Anyhow, enough about what's going on… on to the story!

IMPORTANT Yeah, I realize this chapter might be kind of like the one with Autumn and Draco… yeah. This really does have a point like that chapter did, so don't go leaving me messages about how this chapter sucked. This all really does add to the story… I'm not joking.

Disclaimers: Do you have nothing better to do then go around and see if people say that they created Harry Potter? Ah well, I guess if it pays you well, do it…

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Harry opened his eyes to a voice that rang to him louder than the loudest bell. The cackling voice subsided as he fell, spinning downwards towards a pit of dark flames; a dragon pit. It was Draco that must have done this, or so he thought, while he was knocked out. It was a fiery hell he was spinning into, the heat swimming under his sweater collar like water from a lake. Tears of sweat dripped down his neck as he let out a petrified yell, seeing the spears that were protruding from the bottom of the pit. He hoped that Hermione and Ron would find a way to get back at that hideous git, and find the truth as to what happened to Autumn. He looked down for a mere second, feeling almost sick to his churning stomach. Several slayed dragons were lying at the bottom of the pit, bleeding and screeching, struck by the pointed sticks. Scorch marks covered the walls of the pit, his arms failing to reach the edge, but the closer he got, the farther away it moved. Just as he thought that he had touched the wall, the blood-covered spears spun fast towards him and struck him, one through his cheek, one through his wrist, and another, right between both kneecaps, leaving him laying spread-eagle. As death bled through his body, a voice spoke over him.

"Harry?" It seemed so questioning in his death. He tried to move, but the dragon spears had him pinned as pain seared through his whole face.

"Harry, you've got to move." He felt a slight push on his shoulder, but he was speared to the ground, immobile. The voice became more distant then. He knew for sure he was dying.

"Harry?"

"He's dreaming, 'Mione. Let him be. He's been hurt exceedingly." Harry wanted to scream with relief. It was only a dream, but the pain was real and he couldn't wake up. He just wanted to call out to Hermione and the other, whom he thought was Ron, to wake him. Suddenly, his eyes flew open.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. But Harry didn't reply to her. His eyes turned glassy, his breathing lessened and he looked absolutely mad with fear. Hermione touched his ice-cold hand as his forehead broke out in a chill sweat. Harry flinched as his eyes rolled back in his head, the whites staring directly at Ron.

"Oh hell." Ron murmured, then Harry shuddered and fell limp, the whites in his eyes brightening so much that they looked as if they were glowing. Harry could hear what the two were saying to each other, but his ability to understand it was deteriorating, and pictures flashed before his eyes, connected by flashes of lightning and booms of thunder that crashed with a force overcoming the messages of Hermione and Ron. Then, ever so suddenly, he was being pulled backwards from behind his bellybutton, almost like travelling by portkey. Once again, his eyes flew open with fear, but this time he knew where he was and relaxed. Madame Pomfrey was busying herself with closing a peculiarly small hunt-green vial as she whispered to Ron and Hermione.

"Harry's dying."

****

Harry woke a day later, normally. He knew where he was. Night was falling on the Hospital Wing as he looked around, then noticed in the shadows at the end of his bed, sat Draco.

"Draco?" Harry's voice cracked as he spoke. "What the hell are you doing here?" Draco held up a bandaged hand as he stood. As he entered into the moonlight, Harry saw the bandages that covered his face. As Draco got a bit closer, Harry saw that there were tears mixed with them.

"Took it a step too far Potter?"

"Fuck you, Draco. It's not the first time I've almost died."

"Harry, listen. I came here to say… I'm sor-… I feel awful." Draco knelt beside Harry's bed.

"Well, at least you know what happened to you, Malfoy." Draco looked at Harry a bit confused. "Yeah, I mean you know that you got knocked around, sliced your hand and got your nose broken. All I know is that I'm stuck here and my wrist and jaw hurt like dragonfire."

"Harry…" Draco looked down to the moonlit floor, his newly flop-styled hair in his face and his plastic rimmed glasses edged with tears and a new bruise that couldn't have been from the fight. "It's near Valentine's Day. Do you have any idea how long you've been knocked out? About a fortnight."

"And you're still 'hurt'? And what the bloody hell are you crying for?"

"Potter, there will be no telling anyone that I was crying. And hell, lose your bloody edge!" Draco spat.

"What the hell's wrong with me you insignificant git?"

"Harry, my punch was much more fatal then your two were. I've taken a type of karate called Chip Wang for awhile now for… reasons." Draco's gaze softened. "I hit center on your jaw and it slid to an uppercut to your nose and cracked a bone chip up into your brain. It's possibly going to star a brain hemorrhage, but it hasn't yet. The potion to heal it is very difficult… Pomfrey and Snape are working on it…"

"Oh great, now I will die. I'll be the Boy Who Lived and then died from a bloody bone chip. You've got too much goddamn knowledge Malfoy. Or so you think."

"Harry, you are dying." Harry was taken aback and sunk into his white-sheeted bed.

"I'm what?" he sighed. "I'm dying?" Draco nodded.

"Harry, I'd make that potion if I knew how but… oh hell Harry, I'm so sorry." Draco buried his face in his hands. "I've always hurt you so much, but I never meant to kill you… And it was all about Autumn, wasn't it?" Harry caught that as being a little too cocky.

"Like hell, Draco. You damn well know it's not."

"But hostile, Harry? I'd only admit this to you, but I did really love her, no matter what anyone tells you. I loved her, but loving her made me scared and I was so scared that I had to get out…. I've never loved anyone before… and never had anyone love me back. Not even my own father."

"Touching, Draco."

"Lose your goddamn tip, Potter and listen to what the bloody hell I'm saying. I did it. I got her send out. But I loved her."

"So you admit it." Harry replied hastily. "You got her kicked out of here." Draco nodded. "Do you regret it?"

"Hell yes."

"Then get her back here." Draco gave Harry a half smile and stood up. "Not just because I'm dying, but because you love her.

"And you say that you don't love her Harry. It's obvious you do. But anyhow, she'll be back by the end of May. The End of the Year Ball and Feast are then. I'll tell Dumbledore. If he hears the truth from me then maybe he'll believe it… and maybe I'll be able to stay, so I don't have to explain to my father…" Draco replied, half out the door.

"Like hell I love her."

"The worst lie is the one you tell yourself." Draco replied, leaving. Harry thought for a moment.

"And Draco?" Harry called, ignoring most of what Draco had said.

"Hmm?" He turned.

"Because we love her." Draco smiled to Harry for the first time in his life, held up one fist for power, then disappeared into the sombre hallways. Things wouldn't change between the two even so. Things would never change.

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Mooha! Yes, You'll understand this more after my next chappie… Don't send me flames, I realize it's strange to hear that Harry might die (not).

RevIEW!!