I have only one thing to say for the lateness of this chapter. I HATE WRITER'S BLOCK! My muse flew away like a little birdie and I was left sitting in front of my computer, drawing a total blank. I shouldn't really be sitting here now, seeing as how I have a fever and feel utterly crappy. But, I'm trying to appease y'all by getting this chapter out. I would like to apologize for any tense changes in the middle of paragraphs, my mind is so warped I can't see the difference from past and present tense. I would also like to apologize for the lousiness of this chapter. I hit a little snag, but I can guarantee you the chapters ahead should be good. So, here's the belated chapter I've been trying really hard to get out. This is kind of a in-between chapter, and I personally find these so hard to write.

Yeah, thanks to you all who reviewed the chapters. I now love all of you. *Gives readers and reviewers roses and chocolate and such and gives self aspirin and cough medicine*

For the little key thing, read the top of chapters 1-4 (do you people read these? I do, but people tend to find me odd so I don't know).

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters. I do own any OCs you see popping up in the story. I do own the plot, but it's really not saying much (sorry, I get depressed when I get sick).

When the hell did it get that I had to put up so much shit before I start a chapter? Um, spoiler for Book 4, but you all probably read that already, so it's not really a spoiler. I want to thank y'all for being so patient. I didn't use the exact wording from the 4th book, but you should get the general idea of what's happening. Reason? I'm too lazy to get out the book and look it up *coughs and downs more cough syrup*. And now, on with the 5th (and really crappy) chapter. Uh, enjoy?

Chapter 5

The next month passed slowly in Harry's opinion. There was nothing to do during the day but eat, sleep, go to class, and do homework. The weather was becoming increasingly colder. Harry was becoming a little more bitter everyday. At the very first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry had finally discovered who the new teacher was. Professor Kaz Smith was a 25 year old woman who had moved from America to Britain to attend Hogwarts after she had received her letter when she was 11 years old. Her auburn hair fell down to her mid back and she was clad not in the traditional black robes, but flare jeans and long sleeve shirts. She was not the most cheery person in the world. In fact, most of her lessons were down right morbid. Harry liked her in an instant.

September faded slowly away, bringing on a cold and dreary October. Harry kept to himself most of the time, always reading muggle books or staring off into space. Ron failed to notice Harry's worsening condition, though he was still concerned. Hermione was practically frantic, even if she didn't show it. She had picked up one of Harry's books, bored one night in the commonroom, and was shocked at what she had found. It contained nothing but abuse, rape, self mutilation, and suicide. She picked up the book that had been next to it, and found the same thing. With this evidence and her talk with Draco, she began to pick up the subtle changes in Harry. He was paler than before, now almost ghostly white. He had thinned out, and now you could see his bones sticking out through the skin. He hardly ever ate, skipping breakfast each morning, protesting he was to tired to go to dinner, and eating small portions at lunch. His eyes had lost that sparkle, now being dull and emotionless. Everything about him, from his expression to his posture, screamed he was wasting away. Not only that, but Harry had bandages all up his right arm. Hermione saw it during one of their Care of Magical Creatures, when they had had to roll up their sleeves to dig in the dirt. Hermione had looked up from her Beezle, which was quickly going into hibernation, to see the white bandages sticking out like a beacon.

She had also seen Draco looking at the bandages too. His concern for Harry had grown throughout the month, and was frequently sending letters to Hermione at breakfast, signing them with a simple 'D'. They had conversed several times in the dead of night up in the Astronomy Tower, and were no closer to finding a solution then when they started. Hermione told him everything she had seen inside the commonroom, when he wasn't around the general public of the school. It was getting worse quickly.

One night in mid-October, Harry had actually gone to bed early, his lack of sleep finally catching up on him. He hated sleeping with a passion. He never went to sleep unless it was absolutely necessary. He was constantly haunted by dreams and memories of his past. So cold, so real, he would wake up screaming and shaking uncontrollably. He would then lay there, clutching his sheets in a futile attempt at comfort, and think about the dream over and over. This night was no different.

//There he is. He is standing there right in front of Harry, breathing heavily and looking uncertain. He slants a look at the goblet, then back at Harry. Cedric. Alive, and in the maze that would ultimately be the last thing he would see of the Hogwarts grounds. He looks so noble, his stature the image of a true hero. So unlike Harry, who was sitting on the ground clutching his leg. ::Damn spider:: Harry thinks to himself, ::gods, Cedric. You're alive::

"You take it," Harry hears himself say, "you got there first. You one it fairly."

"You told me about the dragons," Cedric mumbles.

"So, you told me about the egg. We're square," Harry argues.

"I got help with the egg," Cedric insists.

"We're still square," Harry says. He has the urge to scream at Cedric to leave, but he can't seem to get the words out. No, he has to sit there and watch his rival die at his hands.

They continue to argue over who will take the cup for several minutes. Inside, Harry's mind is screaming at Cedric to run. It's no use. Here Harry was, arguing with Cedric, and there was nothing to prevent his death. It was agonizing to watch.

"On three. Ready? One, two, three."

And they were off. Off to Cedric's death. If he could, Harry would have sobbed. He was watching the events through his own eyes. Even though it was a dream, it still hurt badly that he could do nothing to prevent what would happen. It was bad enough he had gone through this once, and now he had to relive it again.

They hit the ground, and Harry knows it will all be over soon. Inside he was experiencing mixed emotions. Regret, guilt, anger, sadness, pain, all surging through his veins. He had lost a part of himself that night, would he lose another after the dream?

A flash of green light burst through the darkness and Harry steeled himself for what he would next see. He opened his eyes to see Cedric, spread eagle and eyes open, dead. At this point, all his barriers broke and he sobbed out loud. He cried, and waited for Wormtail to come and bound and gag him. It never happened. 5 minutes passed, then 10, each second lasting an eternity.

Suddenly, he heard voices around him. He recognized some of them to be Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, and a few others. They were whispering, their words unintelligible to Harry's ears. One voice rose above the rest, almost shouting.

"You killed him! You killed Cedric! How could you?!"

"It's not my fault!" Harry protested, wishing he could believe his own words.

"Of course it's your fault! You bastard! All you bring is death, you should be sorry for what you've done!"

"But I am! More than anything!" Harry cried out, "Please believe me!"

There was no reply. Harry looked around wildly, trying to figure out a way to end this horrible nightmare. He did the only thing he could think of. He ran. He ran into the darkness, not caring where it lead as long as he could get away from the dead he was responsible for. He closed his eyes and concentrated on pumping his legs harder. When he finally stopped and opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself in a mansion. Stone crept up to the ceiling, and the walls were covered with book shelves. Harry scanned the room, and his eyes settled on the figure sitting in an armchair. It was Draco.

"Draco! Oh thank god!" Harry yelled, rushing forward.

He didn't get very far. Hands grabbed him from behind and started to drag him in the opposite direction. He cried out, but Draco never turned his head. Darkness engulfed Harry and he woke with a start.

Sweat drenched from his forehead and mingled with the tears that were falling. Crying. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He took a minute to calm his breathing, and looked at his watch. 2am. Hm, Kaz should still be up. Harry got up quickly, not bothering to change from his pajamas, and grabbed his invisibility cloak.

Professor Smith had become fast friends with Harry. She even allowed him to call her Kaz, but only in private. She didn't believe in pressuring Harry, but to just let him talk on his own. That was part of the reason he trusted her so much. He swept quickly down the halls to the door of her room and whispered the password, given to him by Kaz, to the painting of a very sleepy man in a black cape.

"Kaz?" he called as he entered the living room.

Kaz looked up from her book and her eyes went wide. Harry's face was a mess. The remains of tears streaked his cheeks, his eyes were puffy, and his hair was matted with sweat. She quickly set down her book and stood up, opening her arms. Harry rushed forward and hugged her tightly. Tears threatened to spill, and he let them flow. Kaz just stood there silently, hugging Harry with one arm and the other stroking his hair. After a while, they sat on the couch and Kaz waited for him to explain. And he did. He told her everything of the dream, his eyes kept glued to his hands in his lap. Kaz listened patiently, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and grabbing a few tissues. Harry used them all and hugged Kaz again, staining her blue cotton pajamas with salty tears.

"Harry," Kaz's voice was soft and comforting, "It's okay. It was only a dream. Come here, it'll be okay."

She enveloped him in her arms, rocking him lightly back and forth until he was calm. Half an hour later, they agreed that Harry needed to get back to bed. He nodded, and hugged her one more time before he left. As the portrait hole closed silently behind him, Kaz sighed mournfully.

"Oh Harry. I pray everything will turn out okay. Lord knows you need a little relief in your life. Maybe I should talk to Ms. Granger. Or maybe even Mr. Malfoy? I've seen the looks he gives you. I'm praying for you Harry. Praying with all my heart," she mumbled to him.

~~~~~*

Six: Thank you for bearing the wait of this chapter. Hopefully it didn't turn out too bad. Like I said before, I hate writing filler chapters (in- between, which ever term). And the fact that I'm sick don't help. To help me out with the chapters ahead, I've been able to accuire myself a temporary new muse! Everyone say hi to Lee-chan!

Lee-chan: Hello! I'm here to help Six out, I'll do my best! Hey? How about a DBZ yaoi fic?

Six: *bops Lee-chan on head* Lee-chan! No! We've got this fic to do!

Lee-chan: Darn.

Six: Anyhow, I'll try and get the next chapter out as soon as possible. And if Lee-chan does her job correctly, it'll come out great. *gives readers various gifts to compensate* Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go fall into bed and sleep. Wish me luck, bye!

Lee-chan: *waves*