Hello people! Chapter twelve, as promised. Wish me a good time on my holidays! BTW, I'd just like to tell everyone that Min_1979 is a brilliant author and you should all read her stuff, she's on my favourites list, and that my brother is currently listed as brilliant in my books because he came up with a really good idea for a part that I was stuck at. Thanks Alex!

biuChapter Twelve/b/i/u
Ron sat beside Harry's bed in the hospital wing, watching him sleep. Hermione had gone back to the Common Room for a few minutes to tell everyone what had happened and where Harry was. He had been sleeping since they had carried him in from the Quidditch field when he had passed out, and Ron was starting to wonder if he would ever wake up, or if he would just lie there, asleep forever. Ron started as he heard the door open behind him, then relaxed as he saw Hermione walk in, and come to sit beside him.

"Has he woken up yet?" Hermione asked Ron quietly, her eyes on Harry.
"No. He hasn't even stirred," Ron answered, before turning to look at Hermione.
"What do you think he saw?" He asked her. Everyone who knew Harry at all also knew that whenever his scar hurt Voldemort was up to something. This time had been the strongest though, even stronger than when he had the dream in Divination class, and almost everyone had agreed that he must have seen something. Poor Colin had been wandering around in a daze, and the rest of the team were not much better.
"I don't know. I don't think I want to know," Hermione replied, shuddering slightly.
"You're right. You don't."

Ron and Hermione jumped then turned to face the bed. Harry was sitting up slightly, and was watching them both. His face was unusually serious, and his two friends suddenly noticed the large dark rings around his eyes.
"Harry, you're awake!" Hermione exclaimed, before lunging at him catching him in a hug.
"Thanks for stating the obvious Hermione, but I'd really like to be able to breath," Harry gasped and she backed away, looking slightly sheepish.
"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked him, leaning forward slightly, and looking his friend straight in the eye.
Harry sobered immediately, and turned away.
"I think that we should get Colin and Professor Dumbledore in here."

Dumbledore and Colin had been summoned to the Hospital Wing, and were now sitting beside Harry's bed. Dumbledore had a serious expression on his face, while Colin was looking at everything but Harry, and fidgeting. He obviously was afraid of what Harry would tell him, and was doing his best to avoid the matter.

"Harry," Dumbledore said in a soft voice, "What happened?"
Harry turned to look at Dumbledore for a moment, before sighing.
"I saw something. There was a dark room. All the lanterns had been shattered, but there was still a candle glowing. There was a woman in a corner of the room, near a man's body. He was dead. There was another man standing over her holding a wand, and she was screaming at him to leave her alone. 'Don't come any closer,' she said. The man, he…he…" Harry turned away, and choked back a sob. "It was Voldemort. He killed her." Harry finished the sentence in an emotionless voice, ignoring the way everyone in the room apart from Dumbledore flinched when he said 'Voldemort'.
"Who were they, Harry? Do you know?" Dumbledore asked quietly, compassion in his eyes.
"It was Colin's parents."

At this Colin gave a small cry of disbelief and leapt to his feet.
"You're lying!" He cried. "You have to be! Why would You-Know-Who kill my parents? They aren't important, and they never did anything…"
As Colin's voice faded away he slumped back into the chair behind him, before jerking his head back up again. His eyes had taken on a strange, maddened quality.
"It's you," He whispered. "You saw it! You made it happen! YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!"














(AN: Heh heh. Bet you thought I'd leave it there, didn't you? *Snickers evilly in a distinctly Voldemort-like fashion* No, I wouldn't do that to you. Continue, fair readers!)


Colin ran out of the room. Dumbledore and Harry both sighed, before Harry turned to look at the wise old man.
"There's something else," Harry said as the vision replayed again in his mind, and he saw the letter again. "Colin will receive an Howler tomorrow. Voldemort recorded it."
Professor Dumbledore's eyes widened for a moment, and Harry saw something close to hate in the old mage's eyes, before he stood.
"Thank you Harry. It will be dealt with."
With that, Professor Dumbledore strode out of the room. As soon as he left, Madam Pomfrey entered, carrying a tray with a steaming glass full of a purple brew on it. She set the tray down beside Harry, and handed him the glass.
"It's an extremely strong sleeping potion, Harry. You need to take it," Madam Pomfrey told him, her voice shaking slightly as she looked at him. Harry lifted the potion, looked at it disinterestedly for a moment, then swallowed it all in one gulp. He gagged and pulled a face, before falling back onto the bed, fast asleep.

"Well, are you ready?" Ron asked Hermione as they stood beside the portrait of the Fat Lady. They were preparing to go into the Common Room and face the inevitable torrent of questions about Harry. Hermione gulped visibly then nodded and gave the password. Almost immediately they were surrounded by a swarm of people, all talking and yelling at once. Ron and Hermione stood silently in the middle of the crowd for a moment, before Ron decided he had had enough.
"QUIET!" He bellowed. A silence fell over the room (AN - They seem to be doing that quite a lot, don't they?), and the people stared at him in shock. He drew in a deep breath, then began to speak.
"One at a time. It's no use you asking us if we can't hear you over everyone else," He told the group.
"What happened to Colin?" Someone shouted out. "He came in ages ago and he was crying!"
"His parents were killed by You-Know-Who."
There was a series of gasps and then silence for a short time, before someone else ventured a question.
"How did You-Know-Who kill them?"
"How do you think?"
"How did they find out?"
"Harry."
"When did it happen?"
Ron had been growing steadily more and angrier, and he finally lost it.
"I can't believe all of you! All you care about is what happened and how! I'm going to bed!" Ron yelled, and turned to stomp up the stairs leading to the room he slept in.
"How's Harry?" A small girl ?obviously a first grader? asked. Ron turned slowly.
"How do you think he is?" He asked in an acid tone, before turning and continuing up towards his room.