Disclaimer: NOT MINE!
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Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the Weasley's front door, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione. He looked up one way in search of Harry, didn't see him, and looked in another direction, this one closer to nearly straight up.
It happened in a split second. There was Harry Potter, standing at the very edge of the Weasley roof, and diving off, obviously intentionally and very broom-free. Albus was the only one to see him dive off, but everyone watched him fall.
Albus was very quick with a wand. He pulled it out and performed the same spell he had done in Harry's third year, when Harry fell off his Nimbus. Only this time his fall wasn't an accident.
They all watched in horror as Harry fell, spreading out his arms and looking vaguely happy. Their only hope was Dumbledore's spell, which was slowing Harry's fall a bit, but not nearly enough for comfort. Dumbledore closed his eyes and the other three turned away as Harry hit the ground.
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Someone was crying. Another was trying hard not to.
Pain. Not the worst ever, but terrible all the same.
I don't want to open my eyes. I like this dark...
But light was flooding into the room, warming it, despite the chill which its occupants felt.
Harry resigned himself to the light and opened his eyes slightly. No one seemed to notice until Harry rolled his head painfully to the right to look around the room.
"Harry!" gasped Mrs. Weasley, holding back tears. Hermione looked up so quickly she might have got whiplash, Harry thought, revealing her tearstained face. Ron had been trying to comfort her, and was looking pale.
"Harry," he said weakly. Harry was a bit confused as to what everyone seemed so upset over. He wanted to reach for his glasses, but it hurt too much to try.
"What's up?" he asked quietly. Mrs. Weasley let out a gasping sob.
"Nothing, dear. It's all right, you're awake now, it's okay," she said.
Well, *obviously* I'm awake, thought Harry. I'd really rather not be, considering how painful this is. *Oh.* Well, considering how very much pain I am in, I reckon I got injured somehow... badly.
"No, really," said Harry, not believing all this upset could possibly ever be over him. Mrs. Weasley gasped another sob and grasped his hand, saying nothing.
"How long was I out?" he asked quietly, after a couple of minutes.
"Two days," spoke up Ron, after a moment. Harry groaned, more from pain than from what Ron said, and closed his eyes.
The next few days were hard, as Harry healed. Madam Pomfrey came to heal him, as she was the best witch for the job, and was her usual self, fussing over him day and night. Harry got well a few days before the Hogwarts term began, and Madam Pomfrey reluctantly left her only patient to enjoy her last few days of the summer holidays.
Harry was annoyed how his friends (and everyone else in the Weasley household, for that matter) looked wearily at him in his final few days of holiday. Harry had since remembered what had got him in this situation in the first place, but didn't see how he possibly could have survived the fall, and deeply wished he hadn't.
"Why'd you do it, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, two afternoons before returning to Hogwarts. He and Hermione looked at him earnestly. He gave a silent sigh and looked away from them, never answering. He didn't want to talk about it, and certainly didn't want to trouble them with his troubles. It would be of no use.
Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry, embarrassing him, and then he got on the Hogwarts Express. He, Ron, and Hermione waved her goodbye, and then found a compartment.
The three of them sat in silence for a minute.
"Don't tell anyone what happened, okay?" Harry asked quietly. Ron and Hermione nodded solumnly. They sat silently for another minute.
"And will you please not worry about me?" A pained expression came over Ron and Hermione.
"Harry..." Hermione began, but Harry sighed loudly and that shut her up. Momentarily.
"Harry you know we can't help it," she said. "After what you did--"
"Will you *please* not talk about it?" Harry snapped, but quietly, and they didn't get their feelings hurt.
"We have to sometime," Hermione said simply. Ron looked as though he might rather not. Harry crossed his arms and leaned deeper into the seat.
Twenty minutes later, Ron had started a conversation about Quidditch to ease the uncomfortable silence. The glass door of their compartment slid open.
"Look, if it isn't Potty, Weasel, and the mudblood." Ron leaped up, fists clenched, but Harry and Hermione automatically grabbed the back of Ron's robes and held him back.
"Well, Potter," he spat the name, "my father says you still haven't joined our side yet. And here I thought you might have come to your senses by now and left the loosing side." Harry and Hermione tightened their grip on Ron's robes, but he broke free, regardless. Ron leaped at Malfoy, drew his wand, and hexed him, viciously. Crabbe and Goyle immediately came down over Ron, but he hexed Crabbe, then Goyle, with the same he used on Malfoy. He then stalked back into the compartment and slammed the door with such fury that it broke(as it had the year before). Hermione looked both impressed and distressed, and fixed the door, while congratulating Ron with Harry.
Over a half hour later, Neville came into their compartment.
"Hello, everyone," he said cheerfully. "Who did this?" He gestured to the three figures lying on the floor outside of the compartment.
"Ron," said Harry. Neville grinned.
"Well, great job, Ron, I'd never be able to do it. I heard the glass break earlier. You must've been really upset."
"Oh, I was," he growled, eyes flared.
"What'd he do?" Neville asked slightly nervously.
"He said his father said that I was on 'the losing side' because I haven't joined Voldemort," Harry stated calmly, everyone with him flinching at the name. "It was okay, Ron, I could've handled it. You did do a brilliant job, though." Ron turned a deep crimson.
"Wow, that's pretty upsetting. By the way, have any of you seen Trevor?" They all shook their heads. "Well, I'd better go look for him then. Bye." He smiled at them, and left.
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Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the Weasley's front door, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione. He looked up one way in search of Harry, didn't see him, and looked in another direction, this one closer to nearly straight up.
It happened in a split second. There was Harry Potter, standing at the very edge of the Weasley roof, and diving off, obviously intentionally and very broom-free. Albus was the only one to see him dive off, but everyone watched him fall.
Albus was very quick with a wand. He pulled it out and performed the same spell he had done in Harry's third year, when Harry fell off his Nimbus. Only this time his fall wasn't an accident.
They all watched in horror as Harry fell, spreading out his arms and looking vaguely happy. Their only hope was Dumbledore's spell, which was slowing Harry's fall a bit, but not nearly enough for comfort. Dumbledore closed his eyes and the other three turned away as Harry hit the ground.
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Someone was crying. Another was trying hard not to.
Pain. Not the worst ever, but terrible all the same.
I don't want to open my eyes. I like this dark...
But light was flooding into the room, warming it, despite the chill which its occupants felt.
Harry resigned himself to the light and opened his eyes slightly. No one seemed to notice until Harry rolled his head painfully to the right to look around the room.
"Harry!" gasped Mrs. Weasley, holding back tears. Hermione looked up so quickly she might have got whiplash, Harry thought, revealing her tearstained face. Ron had been trying to comfort her, and was looking pale.
"Harry," he said weakly. Harry was a bit confused as to what everyone seemed so upset over. He wanted to reach for his glasses, but it hurt too much to try.
"What's up?" he asked quietly. Mrs. Weasley let out a gasping sob.
"Nothing, dear. It's all right, you're awake now, it's okay," she said.
Well, *obviously* I'm awake, thought Harry. I'd really rather not be, considering how painful this is. *Oh.* Well, considering how very much pain I am in, I reckon I got injured somehow... badly.
"No, really," said Harry, not believing all this upset could possibly ever be over him. Mrs. Weasley gasped another sob and grasped his hand, saying nothing.
"How long was I out?" he asked quietly, after a couple of minutes.
"Two days," spoke up Ron, after a moment. Harry groaned, more from pain than from what Ron said, and closed his eyes.
The next few days were hard, as Harry healed. Madam Pomfrey came to heal him, as she was the best witch for the job, and was her usual self, fussing over him day and night. Harry got well a few days before the Hogwarts term began, and Madam Pomfrey reluctantly left her only patient to enjoy her last few days of the summer holidays.
Harry was annoyed how his friends (and everyone else in the Weasley household, for that matter) looked wearily at him in his final few days of holiday. Harry had since remembered what had got him in this situation in the first place, but didn't see how he possibly could have survived the fall, and deeply wished he hadn't.
"Why'd you do it, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, two afternoons before returning to Hogwarts. He and Hermione looked at him earnestly. He gave a silent sigh and looked away from them, never answering. He didn't want to talk about it, and certainly didn't want to trouble them with his troubles. It would be of no use.
Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry, embarrassing him, and then he got on the Hogwarts Express. He, Ron, and Hermione waved her goodbye, and then found a compartment.
The three of them sat in silence for a minute.
"Don't tell anyone what happened, okay?" Harry asked quietly. Ron and Hermione nodded solumnly. They sat silently for another minute.
"And will you please not worry about me?" A pained expression came over Ron and Hermione.
"Harry..." Hermione began, but Harry sighed loudly and that shut her up. Momentarily.
"Harry you know we can't help it," she said. "After what you did--"
"Will you *please* not talk about it?" Harry snapped, but quietly, and they didn't get their feelings hurt.
"We have to sometime," Hermione said simply. Ron looked as though he might rather not. Harry crossed his arms and leaned deeper into the seat.
Twenty minutes later, Ron had started a conversation about Quidditch to ease the uncomfortable silence. The glass door of their compartment slid open.
"Look, if it isn't Potty, Weasel, and the mudblood." Ron leaped up, fists clenched, but Harry and Hermione automatically grabbed the back of Ron's robes and held him back.
"Well, Potter," he spat the name, "my father says you still haven't joined our side yet. And here I thought you might have come to your senses by now and left the loosing side." Harry and Hermione tightened their grip on Ron's robes, but he broke free, regardless. Ron leaped at Malfoy, drew his wand, and hexed him, viciously. Crabbe and Goyle immediately came down over Ron, but he hexed Crabbe, then Goyle, with the same he used on Malfoy. He then stalked back into the compartment and slammed the door with such fury that it broke(as it had the year before). Hermione looked both impressed and distressed, and fixed the door, while congratulating Ron with Harry.
Over a half hour later, Neville came into their compartment.
"Hello, everyone," he said cheerfully. "Who did this?" He gestured to the three figures lying on the floor outside of the compartment.
"Ron," said Harry. Neville grinned.
"Well, great job, Ron, I'd never be able to do it. I heard the glass break earlier. You must've been really upset."
"Oh, I was," he growled, eyes flared.
"What'd he do?" Neville asked slightly nervously.
"He said his father said that I was on 'the losing side' because I haven't joined Voldemort," Harry stated calmly, everyone with him flinching at the name. "It was okay, Ron, I could've handled it. You did do a brilliant job, though." Ron turned a deep crimson.
"Wow, that's pretty upsetting. By the way, have any of you seen Trevor?" They all shook their heads. "Well, I'd better go look for him then. Bye." He smiled at them, and left.