The World's Third-Shortest Harry Potter Fairy Tale
Harry was halfway through his Potions homework when he felt his forehead prickle.
"Ow!" he said and instinctively clapped a hand over his scar. Ron and Hermione stopped what they were doing and stared at him with a look of utmost horror on their faces.
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Is You-Know-Who up to something?" Ron said urgently.
"No," Harry said. He felt his scar. "No. But…"
"What?" his friends said together.
"Well, my scar didn't hurt. It was kind of… around my scar," he finished lamely. Ron raised his eyebrows and went back to his homework. But Hermione still looked worried.
"Here. I have a book on curse scars," she said and pulled a heavy book out of her bag.
"Hermione, you carry that thing around?" Harry said. "It's nothing serious!"
"I don't know, Harry, but I still think you should see Madam Pomfrey," she said, looking careworn.
"Are you going to give this up if he says no?" Ron asked her.
"No," she said firmly. Harry tried to talk her out of these ridiculous security measures before, but she always seemed to be right.
"Fine, I'll go," he said irritably. Ron shrugged and stood up. Ron and Hermione went with him to the hospital wing. They told Madam Pomfrey about the situation and she told Harry to sit down. She examined him and put a charm on him. A minute later, they saw a picture of Harry's head, with all his muscles and miniscule brain. Before Madam Pomfrey came back with the results, Harry felt a sharper pain and screamed. He writhed on the bed and barely heard everybody shouting his name. A few seconds later, he died.
His scar was actually a tumor!