PART ONE

CHAPTER SIX: THE DOWNSIDE OF SUCCESS

Neville was waiting for him. He was pale and sweating.

Harry dropped to the ground and started to undress. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing off as he did so, which was making the effort of pulling off the cloak more difficult with his left arm limp as it was.

Neville was quick to notice that the cloak was thorn on the left side of the back.

"Harry, you're hurt! Why did it take so long? Where have you been? You look awful."

But Harry was already pushing Neville towards the doorway of the tent, back into the stadium. He put the broomstick in Neville left hand and the egg in the crunch of his right arm.

"Your shoulder…" said Neville, his eyes wide with concern.

"You can say it tore through the fabric but that it didn't hurt you, that's all. I'm going to clean up in Myrtle's bathroom and come back as quickly as I can. Now go!"

Harry heard the cheering from the crowd once more as Neville walked into the stadium. There were voices and noises approaching from all sides. Quickly, he slipped through an opening on the side of the champion's tent and rushed towards the castle. He didn't want to be seen running away from the stadium. He was Neville's friend therefore it would look suspicious if he was not with him to congratulate him and hear the final scores. He had to get back to the stadium as soon as possible, but he had to get cleaned up first. His face was covered in mud and filth. His shirt was thorn exactly on the same spot as Neville's cloak was. Luckily, he had anticipated this and he had smuggled some spare clothes in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was only going to take a minute. He had worked out a perfect plan.

There was no one in the castle. Harry climbed the stairs two by two. Then right before the Great Hall, he wheeled to the left and walked into Myrtle's bathroom, almost knocking the 'out of order' sign as he did so. A pile of clean clothes was waiting for him on the floor of one of the cubicles. Myrtle was nowhere in sight.

Harry started to pull his right arm out of the sleeve, but he stopped abruptly as he tried to pull out the other arm. A jolt of pain shot through his left shoulder, causing him to moan loudly. It was as though something was cutting through his muscles with a knife. He reached out to the back of his left shoulder with his right hand as far as he could. Then he felt it. There was a dragon's spike sticking out of his shoulder. It was short enough to be unnoticeable with the cloak on, but his shirt would not be easy to remove without first pulling out the spike. Harry leaned on the bathroom sink. The pain was so intense that he felt like he could be sick. What if he removed the spike? Would he bleed to death? The perspective of sharing a bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for the rest of his existence was not appealing at all.

Suddenly, the door of the bathroom burst opened and Harry stumbled backwards, catching the sink to avoid falling.

"I know what you did. Neville said you were hurt."

It was Ginny. She came up to him in a hurry. Her eyes immediately darted towards the spot of blood on his right hand and left shoulder blade.

"I'm alright," said Harry through clenched teeth. "Are you going to scold me for taking Neville's place? Go ahead. I'm not listening anyway."

Ginny stared at him for a moment and said nothing. He was furious for her being there and for her seeing him in such a pitiful state.

"You could have told me," she said blankly.

He didn't know why, but he had expected that she would have been angry with him. Hermione would have lectured him for sure.

"It happened very fast," replied Harry. "You weren't around."

He was trying not to move. His shoulder was really hurting him now.

"It doesn't matter. It's done now. We have to clean you up and get back out there."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Everyone is expecting…"

Harry couldn't finish the sentence. He had tried to move his arm out of the sleeve and the pain that had shot through his back had caused his vision to blur. He was seeing black spots. His knees were weak. He was going to pass out.

Ginny's rushed over to him, supporting him as he almost fell to the cold stone floor. It took a minute before he could steady himself, his right hand clinging to the rim of the sink. Ginny was examining his back. He felt her touch on his left shoulder blade.

"Harry, you can't move. It will make it worst. There's like a thorn in your shoulder."

She was trying to keep her voice steady, but there was lot of concern in her tone. Harry wondered if she was not shaking. He could not see her because she was standing behind him. "It's better like this," he thought. He didn't want her to see that he was in pain.

"Downside of being a Triwizard Champion," said Harry. He was trying to be sarcastic.

But Ginny clearly thought that it was not a laughing matter.

"I have to pull it out," she concluded seriously.

Harry tightened his grip on the ceramic sink, bracing himself for the worst.

"Do it quickly," he said.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He was going to be sick if it lasted a moment longer.

Ginny didn't give him any warning. As soon as he told her to do it, she removed the spike out of his shoulder blade with one sharp pull. Harry felt the wave of pain throughout his body. Hot blood was leaking down his back. He was shivering. Ginny was pressing hard on the wound with one a towel in order to stop the bleeding. Harry's knees were trembling. He was going to faint.

"Harry, talk to me," said Ginny. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey? You might have been poisoned. What should I do?" There was no despair in her voice. It didn't sound like a real question. She was just trying to make him talk to her.

Harry took a few slow long breaths. He couldn't go to the hospital wing, he just couldn't. He would be expelled, and Neville… his parents…

"Don't worry. I'm going to be fine. I just need to rest a while."

He knew that his voice must sound very weak.

"I'll take care of you," answered Ginny.

Suddenly, Harry was glad that Ginny was with him and no one else in the world. He felt safe with her. She would never tell him for doing something rash or stupid. She wasn't scolding him like Hermione. She wasn't lecturing him like his mother or father would. She was on his side. She trusted him.

"Reducto," said Ginny quietly.

Harry felt the cool and humid air on his back. Ginny had ripped off the shirt with her wand and was pulling the clothing aside while keeping pressure on the wound.

"I think that the worst is over," she said. "You've lost blood, but it's slowing down now. You might want to sit down."

She placed her free hand under his right arm and Harry let himself sink to the floor, supported by Ginny. All the strength and energy seemed to have drained out of him. A few minutes ago, he had been racing against a dragon, now he was barely able to lift his left arm so that Ginny could remove what was left of the shirt. The thorn fabric was sticky with blood.

"We have to go back to the stadium," Harry began to say. "Neville…"

"You're not going anywhere in that state, Harry. We'll think of something to explain our absence. Right now, you need to get your strength back."

"You can go…"

He didn't want her to go, but he was still worried about appearances and about the result too. Had he finished last? Would Neville be able to play the game?

"I'm not leaving you, Harry. Nev can do without you for a while, but I'm not sure I'll find an excuse to cover you up if you go out to meet him and faint."

"Are you going to turn me in?" asked Harry. His mind was not really working properly. A part of him already knew the answer.

"I think that you know me better than that. The next time you have another brilliant idea like this, though, come to me first.

After that, he said nothing and let Ginny take care of him. She cleaned the wound and his back with a wet towel, passed a navy t-shirt over his head, and heaved him off the floor, all within a couple of minutes. Then together they walked slowly towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry thought that he was never going to make it up the stairs, but every time he felt that his legs were going to give in, Ginny was there to hustle him up.

They didn't walk pass many people. Ginny kept saying loudly: "It's going to be OK, Harry. Madam Pomfrey says that a little rest will do the trick. You'll be fine in no time. Those stupid Zonko's candies…" No one asked them any questions as to what had happened. Students who ended up in the hospital wing were not always keen to reveal the cause of their injuries, most of the times because it involved something humiliating like trying to put a curse on a particularly tough pimple.

In the Common Room, two sixth years students were sitting in front of the fireplace. They were discussing Neville's unbelievable flying abilities. They noticed Harry and Ginny but they paid no attention.

In the boy's dormitory, Ginny helped Harry to get in bed on his belly. She stayed a few minute at his bedside to check that the wound was no longer bleeding. The cut was visible after the blood had dried up. It had about the length of a finger and was very deep. The spike had probably moved when Harry had tried to remove his shirt.

Harry felt the sheet being pulled over his back and Ginny remove his glasses. He wanted to reach for Ginny's hand, but he was so exhausted. She said something that he did not hear. He wanted to say something back, to thank her, but before he was able to say anything he had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.