Harry landed on his back on marble tile. He stared up at the ceiling, and it started to spin. "Ugh," he murmured, as the pain on his head got worse. He uneasily stood up, rubbing his noggin. Harry peered around the bathroom, and stumbled out to the room.

He looked around and was thrilled to see the room in Gryffondor colors. "Maybe things are better," he said to himself.

"What's better?" asked a voice. It sounded so much like his own.

Harry turned around. A boy was talking to him. The kid looked like he was maybe a year or two younger than Harry. He had rich black hair, and evergreen eyes. It was like looking in a mirror. Harry's jaw dropped as he stared into the eyes of his little brother.

"Um, nothing, little brother," Harry said stupidly.

The kid rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry, what's going on? Oh, and in case you forgot, my name is Cole." The kid crossed his arms, and supported his wait by leaning on one leg.

"Yea, yea, right. Sorry, I… couldn't think," Harry stuttered. "Um, where's Ron… Cole?"

"Hell if I know. The git is probably fucking Paravti." Cole laughed at his own joke.

"Wha-" Harry about asked, but decided to skip it.

He went down into the common room to coincidently find Ron and Hermione. "Hey, guys!" he said cheerfully. "I'm so glad to see you guys!" Harry ran over to both his friends, and he gave them long hugs.

"We're glad to see you, too, Harry," Hermione said, smiling. "And now since we have all… reunited… let's go get some lunch downstairs; I'm starved."

Ron and Harry nodded, and the trio went down to the Great Hall together. So far, so good. But then he remembered Cole. Well that's not bad, just different.

Down in the Great Hall, it was as Harry had always experienced meals in the Great Hall. There were loud voices, kids scattering around visiting friends, pulling pranks on other tables, etcetera. There was something else that hadn't changed, either: Draco Malfoy. He was still his snobby, conceited self who hated mud bloods and anyone below him. Although Harry hated to say it, he was almost glad that everything was back to normal. Well, everything seemed normal.

Hermione started fidgeting with her fork. She was flipping it around between her fingers until it flipped out of her hands, knocking over the waters.

"Hermione!" shouted Ron. "Damn, be more careful, will you?"

"Sorry," she mumbled. A sad look spread her face, and she stopped eating. She remained quiet for the rest of lunch before Harry asked her something. "Are you okay?" he questioned, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

Hermione snapped her head up. "Yea, of course. Nothing more than the usual. I have to go; I have business to take care of, if you know what I mean." She winked at Harry and got up.

When she was gone, Ron said, "Man, she's got to quit that."

Harry figured he meant stop fiddling with her utensils, but the Weasley meant otherwise. "Well, Harry, I have to go to Charms. Talk to you later." At that, Ron stood up, and he left.

Harry finished eating his sandwich before leaving, too. He headed towards the Gryffondor common room, and tried the knob of the bathroom. It was locked, so he rapped on it lightly.

"Hello?" he called. When there was no answer, he tapped the door a little harder and shouted louder, too. When there was still no answer, Harry figured someone had just been an arse and locked the door. He performed the unlocking spell and opened the door.

Harry dropped his wand to the floor at the sight before him. Hermione lay on the floor, eyes stoned, staring blankly at the ceiling. Syringes and empty bottles of ecstasy were scattered around the floor.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted as he ran to her side. She wasn't dead, for she blinked. "Hermione, what is the matter with you? Those things could kill you!" She didn't say anything, just moaned. Harry picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom. He hurried to the boys' bedrooms before anyone saw, and he laid her on one of the beds. He pulled the covers over her and left her there for a while.

Hermione finally came back downstairs that evening, and Harry was waiting for her in the common room. He had skipped all of his classes just to wait for her. He had started feeling angry, and was pulling apart the stitching of the couch. What is wrong with me? He though as Hermione entered the room.

"Well, I feel loads better. Shall we go eat supper?" she asked, apparently very jolly.

Harry glared at her. "Better? BETTER? How can you say that? Just two hours ago, you were completely stoned from ecstasy! What the hell is wrong with you, Hermione? What happened to the Hermione I used to know?"

Hermione just laughed, and said, "You're late for today." Then she walked out of the room before Harry could say anymore.

What had she meant by that? Harry shuddered to think. All of a sudden a jolt of pain shot through Harry's skull. "Ahhh!" he bellowed, clutching his head.

He ran upstairs to his suitcase, rummaging to find some painkillers since he knew no spells for it. He grasped a bottle, and quickly pulled it out.

Harry's eyes froze in horror as he read the label on the bottle. It read "Ecstasy" in scribble capital letters, just like his own handwriting. Harry dropped the bottle, and he continued looking through his bag. He winced when something poked his finger, and his heart sank when he pulled it out. It was a syringe. Harry threw the two objects at the wall, and he melted to the floor. He put his head in his hands, forgetting about the pain. For how long, Harry had no idea, but he just sat there and cried.

Harry got up when he felt like he had nothing else to cry. He looked for the drugs to hide them so no one would become suspicious. When he found them, however, an overwhelming feeling rushed over him. The bottle looked so welcoming just then. Harry snapped out of his dream, and he quickly put the things back in the suitcase.

Harry ran down the stairs to the Gryffondor common room when he about had a heart attack. There, lying on the floor was Hermione. Her eyes were dilated, blank, and dead. She was staring at nothing, and her skin was pale, almost purple. In her hand was another syringe.

"No," Harry whispered. He knelt down beside the brunette, stroking her hair. A tear escaped Harry's eye before he stood up. This was not going to be the way he was to leave it. He was not about to let Hermione be dead and himself a drug addict. Harry then fled to the Defense of the Dark Arts classroom. He began throwing books and folders everywhere, franticly searching for the book. He hunted through the whole room, and he did not find the book anywhere. Harry started to panic wondering where the book could have possibly disappeared. He started exploring again, praying he'd find it when the office door flew open.

There, standing in the doorway with mean, Evil eyes, was Professor Snape. "You, Potter, come with me immediately!" he spat.

Harry dropped the book he was holding and scurried over to the Potions Master.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter, rummaging through Professor Dirk's office. We ought to expel you for that. But unfortunately, I have no control of that. It will be 100 points from Gryffondor. You may go, but if I ever catch you in a teacher's office again, I will see that you will be punished." Snape glowered at the boy before marching away.

Harry stomped his foot, and ran back to the common room. What was he going to do? He had no book to reverse time, and Hermione was dead.

When he reached the common room, a crowd had already gathered, and Harry cursed himself for stupidly leaving Hermione there. Ron came up to Harry, with Ginny behind him.

"Oh, Harry! She's dead! I told her to stop with the drugs! I knew they'd catch up with her! What are we going to do?" Ron was hysterical, and Ginny looked just as if she were in a trance.

Harry sighed, and he took Ron alone into the bathroom. He told everything he'd been through to Ron, and when he had finished, Ron was crying more than Harry had seen anyone cry before.

"My God! Harry, I know where that book is!"

"You do?"

"Yea, it's in the Library, but in the Restricted section! I was looking around last week when I came across it. My God, Harry, I wish I would have known earlier!"

Harry patted his mate's shoulder. "It's okay, Ron. We can still bring things back to the way they were. We just need to get that book."

As Harry and Ron trailed to the Library, Harry knew what had to be done. Although with all of his heart he wanted his parents to be alive, he never ever wanted his friends dead. It seemed selfish almost to rather have friends than family, but to Harry, Ron and Hermione were his family. So Harry decided it: he was going to take it back to the way it was meant to be.

A/N Okay, that's not the end, just so you know, but it is close. Review, please!