Author's Note: Many thanks to all reviewers. Yes, I know, it's been a while. I really had to fight with this one. If ever there is a chapter that readers will hate, this will probably be it. The characters pushed the envelope, and I wondered if maybe I was letting it go too far. Nevertheless, the plot has survived, so I let it stand. That said, enjoy.

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Chapter 29: Broken

Harry did not sleep that night. Hour after hour crept by as he lay staring at the ceiling. The bed felt empty. He knew he should not feel that way, but he could not stop. He found himself wondering where Malfoy was right now. Probably fast asleep in the corner of some other room. If Snape and Aberforth even allowed him that much. The way Aberforth had dragged Malfoy out, Harry doubted they would let him out of their sights.

Around two o'clock, Harry finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. He spent the next half hour packing up his things. Or, rather, he spent ten minutes packing his things and another twenty rearranging them to keep himself busy. When he had finished, he closed the lid and dragged the trunk to the door. He needed an excuse to get out of the room.

He stopped dead in his doorway. Ginny was sitting cross-legged across the hallway, her head bent over a book. When he stepped out, she looked up.

"What're you doing out here?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "I come out here when I can't sleep. My roommates snore more than Hermione." She closed the book and stood. "What about you?"

"Can't sleep either."

"So, you're leaving today, then?"

Harry nodded. "After breakfast."

She glanced down at her hands. "Listen, I'm...I'm sorry about yesterday."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sure I deserved it."

"I just...I didn't want to leave things like that." She touched his arm lightly. He had not even noticed her close the distance between them. "I'm sorry."

Harry could not say who initiated the kiss. Maybe it was mutual. He did not even realize what had happened until she drew back. "M...maybe we should—"

Harry's lips closed of hers again, cutting her off. They stumbled backwards into the room. Ginny broke off again to shut the door, and soon she was pressed against it. Harry cupped her face, leaning in. It had been so long. He had forgotten how great it felt to be this close to her, touch her, kiss her. His skin burned and froze where Ginny's hands touched him, pulling his shirt up over his head.

Ginny took advantage of the brief separation and took Harry by the arms, pulling him over to the bed. She took off her own shirt and lay down. He carefully straddled her, bending down to kiss her once, twice, tracing a line to the crook of her neck, drawing out a gasp. His hands moved down to her waist, gently pulling her trousers down. Her skin shone with a light sheen of sweat and was hot to the touch. He felt a tugging at his belt and reached up to help her. He felt her hand travel over his stomach, down past his navel, and still lower. As her fingers closed over him, he let out a rush of air, leaning in to kiss her again. Her arms glided around his waist, pulling him down to her, guiding him.

He felt some resistance, and her face contorted into a slight wince. When he pulled back, however, her hands gripped his shoulders. "It's okay, " she said in a breathy whisper. "Keep going."

Even as she pulled him down again though, he knew it was over. One moment he could not be close enough, the next he was all too aware of how close he was. He withdrew at once, climbing off the bed. He felt her hand on his arm, heard her say his name, but he stood anyway, heading straight for the bathroom. He shut the door, got in the shower, and turned the water on, twisting the faucet as far as it would go. A cold stream of water hit him like a punch to the chest, then warmed until it was scalding.

He bit his lip against the pain, bracing one hand against the wall and gripping the curtain with the other. He could still feel her hands on him, but much deeper he felt Malfoy's phantom touch, branded in his skin. Malfoy's hands had traveled the same paths, his mouth closing over what had now been inside her. Harry's muscles tightened, disgust with himself deepening.

He did not hear the door open. "Harry?" Ginny's shadow moved on the other side of the curtain, and her hand drew it back. "Are you...?" She gasped and reached in, shutting the faucet off. "What the hell are you doing?"

Harry stood rooted to the spot, breathing heavily. From his neck down to his thighs his skin burned bright red, but still he was shaking.

"Harry?" She reached out to touch his arm.

He flinched away, catching a glimpse of her. Her trousers were back on, and her shirt was on backwards, as though she had just pulled it on haphazardly in her rush to get to him.

She drew her hand back. "I'm sorry. I thought—"

"Don't," he said, but it was too late. Her apology cut into him like a knife.

"Please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Harry reached for a towel, quickly drying himself off and tying it around his waist. He left the room and went to his trunk to get a clean pair of clothes.

She followed him out. "Harry...?"

"I said I'm fine!" he shouted, rounding on her half-dressed.

She flinched. "I don't...I don't understand. Did...was it something I—"

"No." Harry turned away again, bending to retrieve a shirt. "It's not you."

"Then what? Please..." Her hand lighted on his lower back.

Harry straightened up and whirled around so suddenly he banged his shin into the trunk. Pain shot through his leg, but he barely noticed it, his heart beating a million miles a minute.

Ginny drew back too, as though afraid that he would hit her. "W..." As she trailed off, Harry could almost hear the cogs turning in her mind. Realization dawned on her face, and her eyes widened, hand rising to cover her mouth. "Oh God. I didn't...I promise, if I'd known..." He was pulling his shirt on now, and she took the opportunity to catch his arm. "Who was it?"

He shook her hand off. "I don't know what you're talking about." He threw his discarded clothes into the trunk and slammed the lid shut, lifting up one end to drag it into the hall.

"Harry!" she called, but he did not turn back.

When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Hermione there already. She sat on the edge of her trunk, alternately offering owl treats to Hedwig and Pigwidgeon. Hedwig ruffled her feathers when she spotted Harry and turned away from them both.

"You're up..." Hermione gaped at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." He left his trunk by the door, pulled out a chair, and sat down, trying not to wince as his leg gave a painful throb. "What're you doing here?"

"I never left," she said. "Someone had to be here in case Aberforth tried to contact us."

"We could've traded off shifts."

She shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you. Why are you up, anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, not quite meeting her eye.

She nodded as though she understood perfectly. Then, she glanced at the fireplace, sighing. "I wished he'd tell me where they're staying. What if something happens and they can't get to a fireplace?"

"I'm sure everything's fine." Harry tried to sound reassuring but failed. Luckily, she seemed too distracted to notice.

They sat in silence for a long time. Harry tried to think of something to say, but he drew a blank. He could feel himself starting to sweat again, his shirt sticking uncomfortably to the still-tender skin on his chest, but he knew he could not do anything about it, so he just gritted his teeth and tried not to fidget.

Suddenly, Harry heard a muffled pounding of footsteps on the stairs. Hermione glanced up. "What...?"

The door sprang open. Harry had only a brief glimpse of Ron rushing toward him before a fist grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. "What the fuck did you do to her?!"

Hermione jumped up. "Ron!"

Ron ignored her, shaking Harry so roughly the fabric of his shirt dug into the back of his neck. "Answer me!"

"Ron, you're hurting him!"

Ron released Harry then, rounding on Hermione. "Ginny's upstairs crying her eyes out. In his room!"

"If you're going to accuse me of something, just say it," Harry spoke up, finally finding his voice. He leaned heavily against the table, clutching a stitch in his chest.

"Nobody's accusing anyone," Hermione said firmly, planting herself between them. "I don't know what's going on between you two lately, but it needs to stop now. Ron, did you even talk to Ginny?"

Ron wavered. "No, but—"

"Then how do you know she's not just upset that he's leaving?" When he looked like he was going to answer, she held up a hand to stop him. "Go talk to her."

Ron narrowed his eyes, shooting one last death glare at Harry before storming off up the stairs.

Once his footsteps had receded into the distance, Hermione turned to Harry. "What happened?"

Harry, who had collapsed back into his chair thinking it was over, stiffened. "What?"

"Come on. Ginny's crying, and something's obviously bothering you."

"I didn't hurt her." Harry said, feeling the need to establish this fact now.

"I know. And so does Ron, or at least he will. But something did happen, didn't it?" When Harry did not answer, she continued. "It's understandable. I imagine you were both feeling lonely and—"

"Shut up." The words just slipped out, but Harry did not regret them.

She blinked. "What?"

"For once in your life, stop overanalyzing every...fucking...thing."

She looked taken aback, staring at him for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "We don't have to talk about it." A long silence passed before she spoke again. "I'm going to go check on them." She stood and left the room.

Harry was on his feet at once, pacing. This was a disaster. If he had known the chain reaction this would set off, he would have closed the door the moment he saw Ginny sitting out in the hall. It was all just a stupid mistake. And now, if she told Ron and Hermione her suspicions...

It would not take a genius to put the pieces together.

He would have considered running, if he had anywhere to go. But that would just make things worse anyway. He felt trapped, the walls pressing in around him.

By the time Ron returned, Harry was a nervous mess. Still, he stopped pacing, forming his face into a careful mask.

Ron stood in the doorway, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I, um... I talked to Ginny."

"So?" Harry said. "What did she tell you?"

"Not much. But she did say I was wrong. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry, mate."

Now, Harry had to fight to hide his relief. He nodded once to acknowledge the apology. "Where's Hermione?"

"Ginny wanted to talk to her."

The relief was gone. Harry rubbed the back of his neck, clenching his other hand into a fist to hide the fact that it was shaking.

Ron sighed. "Look, I won't lie to you. Hermione made me promise to be nice. But I will admit, I haven't exactly been fair to you lately, and I'm sorry."

Harry dropped his hand back to his side, glancing at the fireplace to avoid looking at Ron. "I'm sorry, too." He did not need to give a reason. There were too many to list.

Mrs. Weasley arrived not long after that. Harry offered to help her make breakfast, glad for something to do. Mostly, however, "helping" consisted of making sure the food did not burn while Mrs. Weasley worried over Ron, checking over his arm. "Now, make sure you go see Madam Pomfrey every day," she said.

"I know, I know," Ron said. "Aura said the cast's coming off in about a week."

"Well, make sure you keep taking your potions. I don't want to get an owl that you've gone and hurt yourself."

By the time Mrs. Weasley and Harry set out the plates of food, people had already begun to arrive. Hermione was one of the last. She took the empty seat next to Harry, but did not give him a second glance as she started in on her eggs. Ginny never showed up, and no one commented on her absence.

After everyone else had cleared out, Mrs. Weasley stood, moving over to a cabinet. She opened the third drawer and drew out three pouches weighted down with money, dividing them up among the trio. "If you need any more, send me an owl and I'll get it for you," she said. "Order everything by owl. Don't go trying to sneak out to Hogsmeade. Now, are you sure you've got everything?"

When she got assurance from everyone, she glanced at the clock and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. She knelt down in front of the fireplace, threw the powder in, and stuck her head into the flames. Not two minutes later, she pulled her head back, nodding. "She wants you to meet her in the Gryffindor common room." She hugged Harry first, moving on to Hermione and Ron respectively. "Be safe. If you need anything, I'll be here."

Hermione went first, picking up one end of her trunk and grabbing a handful of Floo Powder. "Gryffindor common room, Hogwarts!" she said. The flames swept her away.

As Harry stepped forward, Mrs. Weasley squeezed his shoulder one last time. He lifted his trunk in one hand. Then, he tossed the powder into the fire and picked up Hedwig's cage, stepping forward. "Gryffindor common room, Hogwarts!" He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as he dropped through the flames.

Moments later, he stumbled out into the common room, nearly losing his balance. Hermione, as though expecting this, caught him by the arm. He turned to give her a grateful smile, but it vanished when he saw the concern in her eyes, and he shook her hand off.

It was a while before Ron finally stepped out, dragging his trunk awkwardly behind him. Pigwidgeon's cage appeared to be adhered to the lid. As he dropped the trunk and ruffled his hair, sending up a wave of soot, Hermione drew her wand to remove the sticking charm from the bottom of the cage.

In the meantime, Harry picked up Hedwig's cage, carrying her to the window. When he opened it, however, she just blinked at him and turned her head away. "Come on, girl," he said gently, reaching in to stroke her feathers. "I'll come visit you. I promise."

She nipped his finger roughly and ruffled her feathers. Then, she hopped out onto the windowsill and spread her wings, taking off for the Owlery. Harry watched after her for only a moment before turning away.

Ron went to the window next to let out Pig. The little owl's exit was considerably more spectacular. He shot out of his cage like a rocket, flying circles around the common room and hooting madly before soaring out after Hedwig.

Professor McGonagall arrived through the portrait hole just then. If possible, she appeared even more harried than she had at the Carrows' trial. "I'm glad to see you three are well," she said.

"Thanks for letting us come back early," Hermione replied, attempting to dust the soot off her shirt.

McGonagall nodded, her lips curling into a faint smile. "I'm afraid I can't stay for long. I just came up to tell you a few things. I want you to remember that even with the unusual circumstances, the same rules apply as during the school year. Most importantly, you're not to be out at night. We have a full guard patrolling the castle and grounds at night, and they won't be very forgiving of false alarms. I'm sure it doesn't need to be said, but the Astronomy Tower is also off-limits." She paused briefly. "If you have any questions, you may ask me or another professor. For the time being, Professor Sinistra has been assigned as your Head of House."

"Have you found a new Transfiguration professor?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid not. Working at Hogwarts doesn't seem to hold quite the same appeal as it used to." She pulled a watch from her pocket, squinting down at it. "I have business to attend to. I expect to see all three of you at lunch." She climbed back out the portrait hole.

Hermione drew her wand and waved it once at her trunk, sending it skidding across the floor and up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. She did the same for Ron and Harry's, sending them off toward the boys' dormitory. She sat on the couch then, rubbing her eyes.

"You can go sleep if you want," Ron said, sitting next to her while Harry took one of the armchairs. "We'll keep an eye out for Aberforth."

She sat up straighter. "No, I'm fine. I want to be here in case something does happen."

Ten minutes later, she was slumped again, her chin resting against her chest. Ron glanced over at her, shifting nervously.

Harry looked on through a haze. Now that his initial fear that Ginny had told them was slightly subdued, his exhaustion was starting to catch up with him. Even the worries he had felt before seemed less important. He only watched Hermione sleep and Ron watching her and wondered at how they were back. After everything that had happened, they were back at Hogwarts, back in the common room, together. It did not seem possible.

And so, Harry slept, halfway convinced that he was already dreaming.

-

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry pried his eyes open just enough to see Hermione crouching in front of him, her hand on his shoulder, before snapping them shut against the light. His scar twinged, but that was nothing compared to the pain that exploded in his head, as though someone were trying to carve out a chunk of his brain. He doubled over, clutching his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

Hermione's frantic voice spoke again, sounding slightly muffled. "What's wrong? Is it your scar?"

"No." Harry slurred his words. The pain was so intense, he could hardly feel the rest of his body. "My...my head." He groaned, his fingers clenching around his hair.

"What's happening?" Ron said from a distance.

"I don't know." Hermione said. "We have to get him to the hospital wing."

Harry tried to protest, but the pain intensified, and a bloodcurdling scream assaulted his ears.

"Shh..." A hand grasped his arm, the touch almost too light for him to feel. "Harry, listen to me. I know it hurts, but you have to let go. Ron, help me!"

Another hand grabbed his other arm. As they bent his arms down, he opened his eyes again. The light was still too intense, but the rise in pain was barely distinguishable anymore. It did him no good, however; his eyes watered, blurring his vision.

"That's good, you're doing good. You've got to stand up now, Harry. Ready? On three. One...two...three!"

The hands around his arms tightened and, Harry felt himself lift a few inches off the chair. His legs only straightened a few inches before buckling and he pitched forward, his vision going dark. Far away, he heard someone yell his name.

-

Harry was drowning. Or, at least, that's what it felt like. He was lost in a sea of blackness without a single pinprick of light, a rushing sound filling his ears. His entire body ached, his head worst of all, and his lungs worked frantically, but still they screamed for oxygen. He writhed, arms and legs pulling against some invisible force holding them in place.

Distantly, voices whispered, getting closer with each passing moment. "...waking up," a voice finally broke through. "Harry? Can you hear me?"

Harry stopped struggling, exhausted, though he continued to gulp lungful after lungful of air. Concentrating every bit of his energy, he pried his eyelids open, fighting the urge to shut them again against the piercing light. As his eyes adjusted, he found most of his vision taken up by Hermione's blurry face. Beyond her, he saw brilliant white, shining around her like an aura.

Harry's limbs tensed again, but something was holding his wrists and ankles rigid. "W..." His dry throat worked silently, struggling to form words.

Hermione's face contorted into a pained, pitying smile. "Sorry. Madam Pomfrey had to restrain you so you wouldn't hurt yourself."

"W...what...happened?" Harry rasped out. His brain felt odd, as though it had been severed into pieces with dead space in between, thoughts struggling to navigate their way to coherency.

"We don't know. You were having some type of a seizure, but Madam Pomfrey couldn't explain why."

"We thought we were losing you, mate." Another voice said. Harry let his head drift to the side and saw Ron sitting in a chair, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. Past him, Harry could see a line of beds, and he realized he was in the hospital wing.

"W...wa..." Harry coughed weakly, wincing.

"Shh, I've got it," Hermione said, reaching toward his hands and glancing at Ron. "Get his feet."

They untied the restraints and helped him sit up. The muscles in Harry's lower back screamed in protest, but the pain was barely a shadow to what he felt before, and he welcomed it. Once Hermione was sure he would not fall back down, she turned to a pitcher of water on his bedside table. Meanwhile, Ron handed him his glasses, then helped him put them on when his fingers did not seem to want to cooperate.

Hermione placed the glass in his hands and guided it up to his lips. He gulped down the water thirstily, letting out an involuntary moan of protest when Hermione pulled it away. "Not so fast," she said. "You'll make yourself sick." She raised it again so he could sip the water more slowly.

When the glass was half empty, Harry turned his head away, breathing shakily. Taking the cue, Hermione set the glass back on the table.

"How...long?" Harry asked. His voice was still weak, but his throat was not as sore.

"Two days," Hermione said. "We were going to contact Mrs. Weasley if you didn't wake up by tomorrow."

For the first time, a thought jumped through his mind quickly and his muscles stiffened. "Malfoy..." he said.

"It's fine," Hermione said. "I went to meet Aberforth and asked him to keep Malfoy for a few more days."

"Is he...?" Harry stopped himself.

Hermione gave him a slightly curious look, while Ron seemed to be making a concerted effort not to look at him. Thankfully, neither of them said anything on the subject. "Do you remember anything?" Hermione asked.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, straining to recall the last few moments before he passed out. "Someone screamed."

"That was you," Hermione said. "Any dreams?"

"No, I mean...I don't..." He pressed a palm to his forehead, tugging lightly on a tuft of his hair, as though the pain might jog his memory.

She tensed up. "Does it hurt again?"

"No...I just..." He raised his other hand, clutching either side of his head. "I...can't...think."

"Harry? Harry, please stop!" Hermione grabbed his wrists.

He stared up at her for several moments, not really seeing her. Finally, his grip loosened, and hers did too, letting his hands fall back into his lap. Several strands of black hair stuck out from between his fingers.

"Madam Pomfrey will want to know you're awake," Hermione said after several moments. "She went to talk to Professor Slughorn."

"I'll get her," Ron said, standing up. He walked out without so much as another glance at Harry.

Hermione stared after him for a long time. Then, she turned back to Harry, looking apprehensive. "I know you already said no, and this is a really bad time," she said, "but I have to say it now, before Ron gets back. I think you should reconsider leaving Malfoy with Aberforth and Snape."

Harry let out a rush of air and turned away, not trusting himself to keep a blank face. He did not even bother trying to think about it, knowing that it would just be a frustrating failure.

She sat in a chair by his bed and reached out to touch his arm. "Please, hear me out. You have enough to deal with already; don't add to it."

"I can handle it," Harry said, hating the way his voice wavered.

She hesitated. "I'm not convinced that all of this is coming from Voldemort anymore."

Harry's heart jumped into his throat and he leaned forward, clutching his head again. He could not do this. Even if he had a clear head, he would not want to. Now, it was all he could do to stop his mind from short-circuiting.

"Ginny told me what happened. I know you said to stop over-analyzing, but I have to ask. How long has Malfoy been sleeping with you?"

Harry's throat closed up. He could not breath. He was choking.

Hermione seemed to mistake his panic for disgust and grimaced. "Oh God, I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I meant, how long has he been sleeping in your bed. With you."

Harry continued to struggle for every breath, his fingers pulling at his hair again. This was not happening. It could not be happening.

"I'm not asking you to tell me what happened. I'd never do that. And I know, whatever this is, you probably thought you were over it. But—and please don't be angry with me—I think Malfoy's behavior is bringing it back. Or at least making it worse. I mean, I know the...the incident with Ginny is a big part of it, but I think this has been going on a lot longer than that. And..." She stood and grabbed his arms again, squeezing his wrists. "Stop."

Harry's eyes darted up to her face, narrowing. As she tightened her grip, he felt his fingers go lax, and she forced his arms back down to his sides. Then, she sat back with a pained expression, flexing the burnt fingers of her right hand. The thought that he should feel sorry for her managed to make it across the void in his mind, but the emotion itself fell short. So, Harry just continued to stare at her blankly.

She stopped, glancing back up. "I'm not saying you have to talk to me, but I'm here if you need me. You know that, right?"

No answer came to Harry. Which was unfortunate, since she seemed intent on waiting for one. So, reluctantly, he pushed his mind. "There's nothing...talk..." He pressed a palm to his forehead again, willing the world to stop spinning.

"Shh, it's okay," she said hurriedly, reaching out to grasp his hand. "I'm not trying to hurt you. If you decide to bring Malfoy here, I won't argue. But if having him here is going to make things too difficult, don't hold back just because you feel obligated."

Harry stared into his lap for a long time, his breath coming out in short spurts. A deep ache was starting to form in his skull, a tiny, knot pulsating like a miniature heartbeat from the chasm. He just had to get out one more statement. Then he could rest.

The problem was he had no idea what that one statement was. "I... Th..." Harry's shoulders jerked involuntarily.

"Okay, okay," Hermione placed her other hand over Harry's. He could feel the rough bandages scrape against his skin. "Don't try to speak. If you think we should bring Malfoy here...if you believe you can handle it...just squeeze my hand."

Harry hesitated for a long time. Then, he clenched his fingers around Hermione's.

"Okay," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll tell Aberforth tonight."

An uncomfortable silence passed between them. Luckily, it only lasted for a few moments before the door opened, and Madam Pomfrey entered, closely followed by Ron. Harry turned away from Hermione and leaned against the headboard again, glad for the reprieve.

"You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said as she set down the potion bottles she was carrying and began to check his vitals. "How are you feeling?"

Harry made a noncommittal noise.

"He's having some trouble talking," Hermione said. "He said he couldn't think."

"Hmm." Madam Pomfrey frowned and placed her thumb and forefinger around Harry's eye, holding the lid open. "Speech problems could indicate neuro—Hey," she said when Harry batted her hand away, "I'll have none of that."

"I'm...I'm not...a child." The single statement was like pulling teeth, and by the time Harry got it out, the ache in his head had transformed into a steady, pounding pain. He leaned forward, massaging his temples.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Madam Pomfrey spoke again. "I know you're frustrated, but I need you to cooperate with me. You don't have to talk, I just need a yes or a no. Does your head hurt?"

Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Is it the same as before?"

He shook his head. It felt less like someone was removing part of his brain. Rather, it felt as though they had already removed it, leaving behind an aching nothingness.

"Does it hurt more?"

He shook his head again.

"Less?"

Nod.

"Can't you give him something for it?" Ron's voice said suddenly.

"Not when we don't know what's causing it. Pain can be a deterrent to keep someone from harming themselves. If we give him a potion, it might cause more damage." She squeezed Harry's shoulder again. "Are you feeling pain anywhere else? I don't mean soreness; that's to be expected. Any sharper pains?"

He shook his head.

"Are you sure?" When she got confirmation, she released him. Harry dropped his hands and glanced over to see her select two potions from the table. "This is a nutritive potion," she said, pressing a muddy-brown potion into his hand. "We'll get you started on something more substantial in the morning. This one..." She placed the dark blue potion in his other hand. "...is a sedative. I know you've been sleeping for a while now, but it's very important that you don't tax your mind too much right now. If the problem is neurological, this should keep you from having another episode." She glanced at the other two. "I'll need one of you to stay. If he starts convulsing again, we'll have to get him back into the restraints."

"I'll stay," Ron said without hesitation. Hermione put up no argument.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Drink up, Mr. Potter. We'll see how you feel in the morning."

Harry stared at the vials. He was exhausted, and a deep sleep was very inviting, but he had already lost two days, and the prospect of suffering another time jump was not as welcoming. The others were watching him expectantly, however, and he knew there was no choice. So, he choked down the thick nutrient potion and chased it with the sedative.

The second potion was icy at first, freezing a path down his throat. Then, just as quickly, the path warmed and numbed. The drumbeat in his mind eased slightly. He felt hands help him lie down, but the feeling was distant, as though his limbs were not really attached to his body. Someone took his glasses and everything blurred for a split second before his eyelids drooped shut, and he drifted off.

- - - - -

Author's Note: Please read and review. For those who greatly dislike het, don't worry, that's as explicit as it'll get. If there is more in the future, it'll be glossed over. I just needed to detail it out to show why Harry was bothered. Next chapter: a new symptom, a conflicted elf, and a dark cavern. Lost in a world defined by sensation, Harry struggles to make sense of it all. Don't worry, Draco's returning in the next chapter. And if you liked the mental constructs, you'll love this one. I imagine it should be finished within the next couple of weeks, since I'll be going on spring break soon.