Chapter 5

Trance Fever

            "Ugh," groaned Harry, slumping back against his pillows.

            "Double ugh," agreed Ron.

            It was early Sunday afternoon, just after lunch. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had come to see Harry again. They had spent the last few hours struggling through their homework, and the three fifth-years were now starting on their last assignment: Potions.

            "We can leave this for later if you want to Harry," Hermione said. He was still as pale and wan as he had been the day before, and all their wheedling at lunchtime had only coaxed him into a mug of chicken soup.

            Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. You two need it done, and I can't get too far behind." The headache had still not left him, and he rubbed his forehead before pulling his potions book out of his bag. As sick as he felt, he needed something to occupy his attention so that he wouldn't worry as much about the fact that Dumbledore still had not brought him any news.

            "Yargh," Ron said two hours later. They had finally finished the assignment, a wickedly complicated essay on dragon's blood. "Do either of you remember doing anything to tick Snape off badly enough to justify this?" he asked, flexing sore fingers.

            "This is Snape we're talking about, Ron," Harry said, capping his ink bottle. "He's never needed a reason to give us a hard time."

            "Well, that's over with, at least." Hermione got up and stretched. "I think I need a walk."

            "Me too," Ginny said, packing away her completed Ancient Runes assignment.

            "Why don't the three of you go ahead?" Harry said. They stared at him dubiously. "I promise I'll be fine while you're gone, go on, now."

            "We'll be back soon," Ron promised as he and Ginny stood up.

            "I know," Harry said reassuringly. "Off with you."

            After they had gone, he got out of bed carefully and moved slowly to a chair beside the nearest unshuttered window. The day was overcast, so the light did not bother him as much. Hedwig flew after him and perched on his arm, leaning against his chest while he gently stroked her feathers.

            "Are you sure you don't want to head up to the owlery?" he asked her softly. "I know it's more comfortable there."

            Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately and cuddled closer.

            "Thanks, girl," Harry said. He started to settle back in his seat when he suddenly felt the ache in his head increasing. He gasped, stiffening. Hedwig looked up at him sharply.

            "Go to Dumbledore, Hedwig," Harry whispered shakily. "Bring him here as fast as you can."

            The snowy owl gave a quick affirmative hoot and flew off. Harry staggered to his feet, holding his head as the burning of his scar increased. A mist was gathering before his eyes…

***

            An explosion rocked the Hospital Wing, shattering every window.

***

            Madam Pomfrey flew out of her office, her feet crunching on the bits of broken glass that littered the floor as she dashed across the ward toward the source of the agonized wail that she had heard in the midst of the explosion. She found Harry writhing on the floor, his hands clutched to his head, crying out in pain.

            She saw blood on his hands. Frightened that he had possibly sustained a head injury or even lost an eye, Madam Pomfrey gently pulled his hands away from his face. There were a few minor scratches from shards of glass, but she was horrified to discover that Harry's scar was bleeding as though it were a fresh wound, not one closed for fourteen years.

            The door banged open behind them and Dumbledore rushed in, closely followed by Hedwig and Fawkes.

            "Headmaster, what's happening?" Madam Pomfrey demanded as she pressed a cloth to Harry's forehead. "Is the castle under attack?"

            "No, Poppy-"

            The rest of Dumbledore's words faded in Harry's ears. He had not felt such pain since Voldemort had used the Crutacious Curse on him. He knew he was lying on the floor in the Hospital Wing, but he could no see any of it. Flames surrounded him, and above in a dark sky, he could see the sickly green glow of the Dark Mark. Screams assailed him from all around.

            "Oh, no," he moaned brokenly.

            "Harry, what is it?" Dumbledore's gentle voice penetrated the noise in Harry's head.

            A terrible kind of ache filled Harry's chest as he choked out a reply.

"We're too late."

***

When Ron, Hermione, and Ginny dashed back to the Hospital Wing a few minutes later, they found their way barred by Professor McGonagall.

            "What happened?"

            "Where's Harry?"

            "Is he all right?"

            The questions tumbled out in a rush as they tried to get past the head of their House to their friend.

            "Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall said sternly. "You cannot enter the Hospital Wing right now. There has been an accident."

            "But Harry-" started Hermione.

            "The three of you will go to my office and wait. I'll come and speak with you later when I've found out what happened."

            She shooed the three frightened Gryffindors away, and as they retreated down the hall to her office, they distinctly heard the sound of a locking charm being placed on the infirmary door.

***

            Harry's friends waited tensely in Professor McGonagall's office for over an hour before she came to speak to them. All three of them leapt out of their chairs when she came through the door.

            "What's happened, Professor?" asked Ron.

            Professor McGonagall raised her hands to silence them and gestured for them to sit down again.

            "Please sit down, you three," she said, seating herself behind her desk. Her mouth was a thin line of worry and her eyes were grim as she addressed them. "What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room. If anyone asks questions, you are to refer them to me."

            "Yes, professor," they replied.

            "Mr. Potter has had a dangerous relapse in his recovery. We've summoned a mediwizard from St. Mungo's. We think that his illness may be a highly acute trance fever."

            "Trance fever?" Hermione said.

            "It is a very rare condition that can occur in seers when they receive powerful visions," Professor McGonagall explained. "We must wait for the doctor to be sure."

            "But what about all those broken windows?" asked Ginny.

            "You said he's had a dangerous relapse," Ron said urgently, interrupting Professor McGonagall's reply. "Will he be all right?"

            Her answer was not reassuring. "I don't know."

            "Can we see him?" asked Hermione.

            "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. Madam Pomfrey will not allow any visitors for the time being. I will keep you informed of his condition, but please do not share what you know with anyone. I'll see to the questions of the other students myself. The other professors have already been informed, so please refer any questions addressed to you to one of them. And-" she paused briefly, "if you need to talk, please feel free to come and see me or Professor Dumbledore."

            Ron, Hermione and Ginny thanked Professor McGonagall and left the office in a numb silence.