Hugs for Jimbocous, who's sticking with me!

"What on earth happened to you?" Lupin asked incredulously as he pelted into Dumbledore's office five minutes later, completely out of breath. He had received more astonished stares during the trip up than he had in the past week, and Lupin wasn't helping.

"Had a small water fight, don't ask any more," he said, completely out of breath, and collapsed into a chair by the fire. "Where's the Headmaster?" he asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

"Right here," said a warm voice behind him. Harry jerked upright.

"Sorry I'm late sir, I got a little caught up," he apologised quickly, and was glad when Dumbledore's face held no signs of annoyance.

"You are dripping on the Headmaster's furniture, Harry," Lupin chastised gently. Harry leapt up and stood over on the stone floor, causing Dumbledore to chuckle and perform a quick drying spell. Lupin cast a curious glance at the clothing and bandage on his hand, but said nothing.

"Would you mind performing the Patronus Charm for me please Harry?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "I would rather like to see you in action,"

Harry pulled out his wand, and conjured the image of his parent's wedding in his head, as usual.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The familiar stag burst from his wand to stand in front of Dumbledore, who looked pensive. He thought for a moment before turning to Harry.

"Now, when you conjure a Patronus, what do you think of? What is your happy memory?"

"My parent's wedding. I've got a photo of it."

"And are you expecting Prongs to appear?"

Harry had never really thought about it, but now Dumbledore mentioned it, he realised that he automatically connected Patronuses with Prongs. He nodded slowly, much to Dumbledore's apparent pleasure.

"Excellent. Right then, this time, I want you to think of a happy memory that is nothing to do with your parents, and if possible, try not to think of Prongs,"

"Right," Harry said dubiously. He cast his mind back to when he had won the Quidditch Cup in the third year, and said the incantation. Much to his dismay, it was still Prongs.

"Keep trying, Harry. Keep thinking of different memories." Dumbledore encouraged. So Harry kept trying.

Winning the House Cup, a different memory for each year; flying for the first time; his first real Christmas; the weeks he spent at the Burrow…

"It's not working," he said, defeated, after fifteen minutes. Lupin frowned at him.

"Think of a memory you'd never expect," Dumbledore suggested. Harry smiled wryly, and thought of the pointless water fight he had had with Draco earlier that evening.

"Expecto Patronum,"

A large dragon burst from the end of his wand. Harry gasped and stepped back, tripping over his bag which he had left no the floor. Lupin stood to help Harry, and the dragon reared back, giving an almighty roar, daring Lupin to come any closer to Harry. Lupin stepped back and sat back down, stunned. Dumbledore was eyeing Harry thoughtfully.

"Well, you seem to have succeeded. Just try and use that memory next time. That will be all Harry. Thank you,"

Harry nodded dumbly, and the dragon faded. He gathered his belongings in his arms and left with a nod to each Professor. He slowly walked down the stone steps, still confused as hell. He walked without thinking, retracing the familiar steps back to the Entrance Hall. He paused at the door to some of the upper floors and to Gryffindor Tower, then stopped.

He didn't feel like Gryffindors right now.

Nearly two hours later he was sat in a large, squashy armchair, a mug of tea wrapped in his hands. His robes were being dried, and for some reason he was feeling utterly miserable. He glanced up at his host, who was watching him sympathetically.

"I don't know why I'm feeling so depressed," he admitted.

"Were it somethin' Professor Dumbledore did?" Hagrid asked him. Harry shook his head.

"It's just… I don't know. I feel weird. It's probably nothing." He looked up at Hagrid and forced a smile onto his face. "But it's good to know that you're here if I ever need to talk. And thanks for sorting my robes, too," he said.

"You're welcome." Hagrid said happily, and clapped him on the shoulder. "But you ought to be getting back up ter school. They'll be worryin' where you are soon,"

"Thanks, Hagrid, "Harry said morosely, and quickly finished off his tea, then bundled up his robes and left the hut.

The grounds were dark – he supposed it was probably at least nine o'clock, meaning he had been out after curfew for an hour already. After arriving at the Entrance Hall, he had wandered out onto the grounds, skirting the perimeter of the grounds, not thinking of anything in particular, an odd sense of calm descended all around him. Nothing at the moment made sense – even less than before – and it made him eerily sure of the fact that he was, in fact, going mad.

And now, starting the walk back up to the castle, he was feeling the sae way. Almost detached, as though he was seeing everything through another set of eyes floating merrily in the sky above his head. He walked slowly and tiredly up to the Entrance Hall. There was nobody around, thank god, and he started up the steps that would take him to Gryffindor Tower. He was walking into the main stairwell when a drawling voice stopped him halfway up a set of stairs.

"Well, well," it sneered. "If it isn't Mr. Antares, finally deciding to turn up." Harry was too tired to bother, and in the oddly separate mood he had been thrown into, he did something he normally wouldn't have done.

He carried on walking.

"Antares!" Snape's voice rang out in the stairwell. Harry paused only briefly before continuing. He slowed to a stop and leaned against the railings. He hung his head over the banister and vomited down the stairwell. His knees were shaking, and his back throbbing. His face had grown paler, accentuating his blue eyes. His head was spinning; he hadn't felt this bad in a while. He stood up straight and tried to walk the rest of the way up the set of stairs, but only got halfway before his legs gave way beneath him. He landed painfully and swore as pain coursed through his arm where he had landed on it. Struggling to get back up to his feet, he vomited again on the stairs. Cold sweat mingled with his tears, and he stared in shock as a drop of blood fell to the ground. He lifted his hand to his ear and felt slick blood pouring from it. What was happening to him? His breath was becoming laboured now, and every now and then a bright flash of light played in front of his eyes. He was shivering, even though it was only September. He staggered upright and started toward the landing. He managed a few more steps, then collapsed again, and tumbled down the rest of them. He groaned at the bottom and pushed himself off the ground. He couldn't see very well, and his ears were ringing. Blood had soaked through his clothes and there was an acute pain in the back of his head. He could vaguely see Snape standing over him, mouth moving, but he wasn't sure anymore. Blood was leaking out of his eyes now, flooding into his vision. Suddenly, with an almighty crack, his scar burst open and blood gushed out of it. He screamed, and blacked out.

"James?"

Harry didn't open his eyes. The voice was tearful, feminine, and rather familiar. It was Hermione. He kept his eyes closed, tried to keep his breathing steady, and waited to hear more.

"Saying his name isn't going to make him wake up, you know," said Ron irritably.

"It might help," came the furious reply.

"I doubt it,"

"Well at least I'm trying,"

"It's been three days. God knows how much longer it'll be."

"He'll wake up soon, he'll be all right…"

"I don't know why you're so bothered anyway,"

"Ron!"

"Well I mean come on. He turns up, out of nowhere, and we don't know a thing about him. He's friends with Malfoy, he insulted me, he has afternoon tea with Dumbledore, and he looks different every time I see him!"

Harry's heart started thumping madly at this. The charm was wearing off…

"It doesn't mean we have to ignore him!"

"For god's sake Hermione, he's not Harry!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Harry waited anxiously for Hermione's reply.

"I never said he was." She said coldly.

"Look Hermione, it's fine that you're still upset about him, I mean, everyone knew how you felt about him…"

"He didn't,"

"Yeah, well, Harry was an ignorant prat."

Harry was saved from retorting by a new voice.

"Speak no ill of the dead, Weasel," Draco drawled from where Harry presumed was the doorway. "You never know who's listening."

Harry grinned and opened his eyes. Hermione and Ron were staring away from him, at Draco. Harry caught the Slytherin's eye, winked, and closed his eyes again, feigning sleep.

"I never knew you felt that way about Potter," Draco continued, cottoning on.

"Yeah well, you don't know much, do you, Ferret-Face?"

"Ron!"

"Well he doesn't,"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well, Harry was almost as arrogant as you sometimes," Ron said, and sounded as though he could have gone on for a while. "He thought he was the centre of the universe, and although sometimes he was, he wasn't all the time,"

"Ron, how can you?"

There was a stomping, and Harry supposed that Hermione had fled the room.

"Nicely done, Weasel."

"I just hated the way Harry got all the attention. Even when something happened to me, he always ran off with the limelight and set it up somewhere else! It was horrible, and I just took it, I stayed his friend, even after all the abuse he hurled at me!"

"I think that's enough, Weasel," Draco said sharply. "Care to leave me alone with James? I feel I may be able to make him wake up,"

"Really?"

"Yes. I have an idea."

Harry grinned inwardly, guessing what Draco was going to do.

"You can watch, if you like,"

"This will be good. I can't wait to use your failed attempts against you."

"If you must," Draco said melodramatically, and came over to the side of Harry's bed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Turn off the lights," Draco ordered. "Now, go and hold onto his feet. He must be held down for this to work."

Harry knew that if Draco carried on much longer he was going to start laughing.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I have to be topless for it to work," Draco said, completely serious.

"If you say so…"

Harry felt something cold and soft over his eyes, then realised it was Draco's hands.

"I nearly forgot – take off your shoes and put them either side of the bed. Take off your robes and arrange them around James's feet."

"OK,"

Harry hoped he had clothes on underneath his robes. He opened his eyes, and felt Draco jump slightly as his eyelashes brushed his palms. He felt a slight pressure on his eyes, willing them closed, and obeyed. Draco leant over him and started talking.

"Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare!" he whispered in Harry's ear, making him twitch and shiver. Suddenly he yelled. "NUNC!"

With a yelp, Harry leapt into the air, glaring furiously at Draco, who looked immensely pleased with himself. It was dark in the room, but he could clearly see the amusement laced into Draco's silver eyes.

"Put the light on, Weasley," Draco said happily. "I've woken him up,"

The lights went on, and Ron stared at Harry.

"It worked!" he said, amazed. "I'm going to tell Hermione!" he said, and grabbed his robes and shoes, running out of the room. Once he was gone, Harry glanced at Draco. Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing uncontrollably.

"I got you something from Hogsmeade," Draco said when they had finally calmed down enough. Harry's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yes, I remembered what you had said in Potions," he pulled a bag from the floor and dropped it on Harry's chest. The Gryffindor opened it curiously and nearly choked on the smell of putrid flesh that assaulted his nose.

"Dragon's liver," he gasped, eyes watering. Draco nodded, looking pleased.

"A get-well present, if you will."

"Thanks,"

"Ah, James,"

Harry turned to the door and saw that Dumbledore was stood there, wearing robes of royal blue with small silver stars spread down the sleeves. He was twinkling at the two boys.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

"It is good to see you awake,"

"Thank you sir,"

"Might I please ask you to leave, Mr. Malfoy? I would like to discuss with James the manner of his accident," Dumbledore said, firmly.

"Yes sir," Draco said obediently.

"Come back this evening," Harry said to Draco. "I need to talk to you about something,"

"Sure,"

"And also, it might be a good idea to get dressed," Dumbledore pointed out. Draco glanced down and realised that he still had no shirt on. Blushing fiercely, he grabbed his dark green shirt from off the floor and shrugged it on, looking sheepish. He nearly ran out of the room. Dumbledore gazed at Harry, who was still wearing Draco's clothes.

"Would you care to elaborate on why I encountered an extremely excited Mr. Weasley on the way here?"

"We played a prank on him, and he fell for it," Harry said with a grin. Dumbledore smiled down at him.

"I would expect no less."

Harry nodded stiffly. Dumbledore knew and Draco knew, but Dumbledore didn't know that Draco knew although Draco knew that Dumbledore knew… Merlin, his head was feeling cramped.

"Now, I must ask you exactly what happened last night James. As much as you can possibly remember."

"Well after I saw you, I went for a walk. I walked right along the edge of the grounds, then I went to see Hagrid. I felt kind of weird, like I wasn't really there. After I had a cup of tea with Hagrid, I came back up, just straight back. I was coming up the main stairwell when Snape caught me. He started talking to me, but I felt really sick. Then I started bleeding everywhere, and I was sick everywhere, and I fell down the stairs and landed next to Snape. Then my head… it felt like it was exploding. It hurt so much. I think it was my scar, but I'm not sure. That's all I remember."

"And you remember nothing after that?"

"No sir. What happened?"

"According to Professor Snape, you were writhing around on the ground calling out for Mr. Malfoy. Then an impenetrable shield formed around you, and you appeared to still. The shield had faded enough for us to retrieve you after half an hour,"

Harry knew he should be blushing that he had been screaming for Draco, but the horror was striking a deeper note.

"What do you think it was?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer.

"Either Voldemort, or something completely new,"

"Like what?" Harry frowned. Dumbledore looked reluctant to tell him.

"I'm afraid that I am not sure at the moment, my boy. I assure you that I have every possible teacher researching your symptoms, but as all things with yourself, I doubt the results will be ordinary,"

"So what am I going to do? I can't just stay locked up in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the year."

"Indeed. Madam Pomfrey has deemed you well enough to leave the Wing tonight and recommence lessons tomorrow. That is, if you feel up to it?"

"Of course."

"Remember, your identity cannot be revealed to anyone now. You are as safe as I can make you. Please remember that, Harry,"

"I will sir."

You know you want to review. You're just contemplating doing it or reading another fic. But please, listen to that small voice and do it. It makes me so happy.

Also thanks to those of you who reviewd the previous chapters! Especially Draeconin and Jimbocous!

smokey