Disclaimer: don't own, don't sue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron entered the fifth year dormitory, looking for his transfiguration notes. He began rummaging through his bag. Oh, that's right. I lent them to Harry. Ron glanced in the direction of Harry's bed and crept over. He dug through Harry's bag, looking back in Harry's direction every few seconds to make sure he hadn't woken up.
They weren't there. Ron set the bag back down and made his way to Harry's bedside table. He opened the drawer.
He picked up a few sheets of parchment, glancing casually at the one on top. Reading the first few sentences, his eyes became round with horror. He dropped the letters and whipped open the hanging's on Harry's bed.
He's there. He stared down at Harry's pale, tearstained, strangely peaceful-looking face. Oh, God! He's still breathing, good. Barely, but he's still breathing, good.
Ron dashed downstairs, and frantically found Hermione. He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her from the common room.
"Chocolate frog!" they shouted together at the stone gargoyle, and it leapt aside. They ran up the escalator-like staircase and pounded on the headmaster's door.
Albus Dumbledore had been pacing his office, and immediately swung open the door. He saw Ron and Hermione standing there, and the desperate looks on their faces, and wordlessly rushed off with them.
"What's happened?" he asked as they hurried along.
"I don't know," said Ron, his voice far higher than usual. "He left a note, that's how I found him."
"The potion," Hermione said.
"What?" asked Ron.
"The potion. He made it wrong on purpose, that must have been it."
"What potion?" Dumbledore asked.
"He was trying to make a dreamless sleeping potion. Or so he said," Ron growled.
They reached the common room. Professor Dumbledore suddenly disappeared.
"Professor?" Ron and Hermione asked, voices higher still.
"I'm still here," they heard his voice say. "Only invisible."
Hermione said the password and they went back in. The three of them hurried to the dormitory. Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her along to show her it was okay in case she had any doubts.
Ron led them to Harry's bed. Dumbledore's voice could be heard muttering a few very well-chosen words. Harry sort of glowed for a few seconds. When it stopped, his breathing was slightly deeper and easier.
"That bought some time," Dumbledore said. "Stay here, I'll be back."
Ron and Hermione could only stay in the dormitory and wait, eyes transfixed on Harry. As the minutes ticked by, his breathing became shallower.
"Damn you, Harry," Ron breathed.
After what seemed like centuries, the dormitory door opened, and Professor Dumbledore reappeared in the middle of the room, holding a small flask in his hand. He lifted Harry's head, opened his mouth, and poured the contents of the flask down Harry's throat. He then gently laid Harry back down. Harry's breathing returned to normal.
"He'll live now," Dumbledore said. "He'll wake in the morning. Good luck." He vanished.
"Now what?" Hermione whispered to Ron.
"I'd better stay with him," he said. "See you in the morning."
Harry rubbed his eyes and squinted out into the dormitory against the bright sunlight. He felt for his glasses, found them, and put them on, sitting up. Something was wrong.
Oh. The hangings are open. That's it.
Wait. There's something else as well.
Harry remembered the night before and realized what it was. He cursed silently.
How could I have done it again? How did I mess it up this time? He cursed silently again, and opened the drawer of his night table.
His heart stopped. They're gone. The letters. They're gone! His pulse quickened and he looked around frantically. His eyes fell on Ron standing in front of him. Harry gulped.
"Harry!" Ron hissed, shaking the letters at him. To Harry's surprise, he sounded not angry, but frightened and sad. It was even worse.
Harry didn't know what he was supposed to say.
"What happened?" he asked, knowing it probably wasn't the best thing to say. But he had to know.
"I was looking for my transfiguration notes," Ron began, speaking very quietly. "I remembered I'd lent them to you." He took a deep breath. "Then I found these, and then I found you. Then me and Hermione went and found Dumbledore, and we figured out how you'd done it." He swallowed. "And Dumbledore went invisible, and we came up here, and he said some sort of spell. Then you glowed for a few seconds, it was so weird. And then he left, and came back later with some potion - the antidote. He gave it to you, and then you started breathing more and normally again." He exhaled a shaky breath. "That's it."
Harry felt anger rush through him. Angry at Ron, for saving him, angry at himself, for being so careless.
"Have you read it?" Harry asked dangerously and extremely quietly, nodding toward the parchment Ron was holding. He nodded. "Did you read it before you went to Dumbledore?" Ron shook his head.
"Just the first bit." Harry let out a slow breath.
"Do you regret it now?" Harry asked in the same quiet, dangerous tone.
"What?" Ron whispered.
"Do you regret going to Dumbledore? Do you regret saving me? Do you regret not reading the whole letter?"
"No, Harry! No!"
"So you'd do it again? Even if you had read the letter first?"
"Yes, Harry! Of course I would! Why are you asking me this?" His voice was desperate.
"If. You knew. What I wanted. You'd still. Do that." Harry said. He shook his head in disgust. "I should've expected that from you." He silently got up and started his day, angry at himself and at the world and shooting nasty glares at Ron.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron entered the fifth year dormitory, looking for his transfiguration notes. He began rummaging through his bag. Oh, that's right. I lent them to Harry. Ron glanced in the direction of Harry's bed and crept over. He dug through Harry's bag, looking back in Harry's direction every few seconds to make sure he hadn't woken up.
They weren't there. Ron set the bag back down and made his way to Harry's bedside table. He opened the drawer.
He picked up a few sheets of parchment, glancing casually at the one on top. Reading the first few sentences, his eyes became round with horror. He dropped the letters and whipped open the hanging's on Harry's bed.
He's there. He stared down at Harry's pale, tearstained, strangely peaceful-looking face. Oh, God! He's still breathing, good. Barely, but he's still breathing, good.
Ron dashed downstairs, and frantically found Hermione. He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her from the common room.
"Chocolate frog!" they shouted together at the stone gargoyle, and it leapt aside. They ran up the escalator-like staircase and pounded on the headmaster's door.
Albus Dumbledore had been pacing his office, and immediately swung open the door. He saw Ron and Hermione standing there, and the desperate looks on their faces, and wordlessly rushed off with them.
"What's happened?" he asked as they hurried along.
"I don't know," said Ron, his voice far higher than usual. "He left a note, that's how I found him."
"The potion," Hermione said.
"What?" asked Ron.
"The potion. He made it wrong on purpose, that must have been it."
"What potion?" Dumbledore asked.
"He was trying to make a dreamless sleeping potion. Or so he said," Ron growled.
They reached the common room. Professor Dumbledore suddenly disappeared.
"Professor?" Ron and Hermione asked, voices higher still.
"I'm still here," they heard his voice say. "Only invisible."
Hermione said the password and they went back in. The three of them hurried to the dormitory. Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her along to show her it was okay in case she had any doubts.
Ron led them to Harry's bed. Dumbledore's voice could be heard muttering a few very well-chosen words. Harry sort of glowed for a few seconds. When it stopped, his breathing was slightly deeper and easier.
"That bought some time," Dumbledore said. "Stay here, I'll be back."
Ron and Hermione could only stay in the dormitory and wait, eyes transfixed on Harry. As the minutes ticked by, his breathing became shallower.
"Damn you, Harry," Ron breathed.
After what seemed like centuries, the dormitory door opened, and Professor Dumbledore reappeared in the middle of the room, holding a small flask in his hand. He lifted Harry's head, opened his mouth, and poured the contents of the flask down Harry's throat. He then gently laid Harry back down. Harry's breathing returned to normal.
"He'll live now," Dumbledore said. "He'll wake in the morning. Good luck." He vanished.
"Now what?" Hermione whispered to Ron.
"I'd better stay with him," he said. "See you in the morning."
Harry rubbed his eyes and squinted out into the dormitory against the bright sunlight. He felt for his glasses, found them, and put them on, sitting up. Something was wrong.
Oh. The hangings are open. That's it.
Wait. There's something else as well.
Harry remembered the night before and realized what it was. He cursed silently.
How could I have done it again? How did I mess it up this time? He cursed silently again, and opened the drawer of his night table.
His heart stopped. They're gone. The letters. They're gone! His pulse quickened and he looked around frantically. His eyes fell on Ron standing in front of him. Harry gulped.
"Harry!" Ron hissed, shaking the letters at him. To Harry's surprise, he sounded not angry, but frightened and sad. It was even worse.
Harry didn't know what he was supposed to say.
"What happened?" he asked, knowing it probably wasn't the best thing to say. But he had to know.
"I was looking for my transfiguration notes," Ron began, speaking very quietly. "I remembered I'd lent them to you." He took a deep breath. "Then I found these, and then I found you. Then me and Hermione went and found Dumbledore, and we figured out how you'd done it." He swallowed. "And Dumbledore went invisible, and we came up here, and he said some sort of spell. Then you glowed for a few seconds, it was so weird. And then he left, and came back later with some potion - the antidote. He gave it to you, and then you started breathing more and normally again." He exhaled a shaky breath. "That's it."
Harry felt anger rush through him. Angry at Ron, for saving him, angry at himself, for being so careless.
"Have you read it?" Harry asked dangerously and extremely quietly, nodding toward the parchment Ron was holding. He nodded. "Did you read it before you went to Dumbledore?" Ron shook his head.
"Just the first bit." Harry let out a slow breath.
"Do you regret it now?" Harry asked in the same quiet, dangerous tone.
"What?" Ron whispered.
"Do you regret going to Dumbledore? Do you regret saving me? Do you regret not reading the whole letter?"
"No, Harry! No!"
"So you'd do it again? Even if you had read the letter first?"
"Yes, Harry! Of course I would! Why are you asking me this?" His voice was desperate.
"If. You knew. What I wanted. You'd still. Do that." Harry said. He shook his head in disgust. "I should've expected that from you." He silently got up and started his day, angry at himself and at the world and shooting nasty glares at Ron.