Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.

A/N: Okay. This chapter is not to my liking at all. You may realize why soon. When Rudulo gave me the paper with the chapter info on it, I was slightly disappointed with it, and I told her so and she said she may re-write it. Until then, we will have to deal with this. I really don't like the ending. At all. Like, hardcore dislike. I just hope you all don't dislike it as much as I. And also, I really don't like what's going on with the nurse. For a note to those who don't know - I don't have ANY idea of what is happening in this story - I only know the basic things. I only write the chapters after the plot info has been given to me. So I can't tell you why Poppy is acting the way she is, and hopefully, it's not because she was just OC. I asked Rudulo about it, and she said there was a reason behind it, so please… just bare with this. - Min

Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Eight: Playing Pretend in Gryffindor Territory

"Just once more, Mr. Potter."

Groaning, Harry sat up fully, his sore body protesting angrily against the movements and his mind a bit muddied from all the drugs given to him. He picked up the instrument that Madam Pomfrey held out to him. It was a tube of sorts, that he had to blow into. It reminded him slightly of an asthmatic breather.

"On the count of three," she said, holding the tube up at an angle so that he could breath into it, "One. Two. Three."

After he had run out of breath, Harry sat back on the pillows, breathing in heavily, a lingering metallic taste in his mouth. As he lay back against the pillows, the matron took her wand and tapped it twice on the side of his neck.

He felt a cold sensation run through his jugular vein, and his pulse felt as if it pounded fifteen times faster and harder. He could feel his fingers twitching convulsively, but he had gotten used to the side effects of that particular spell. The nurse had only done it seven times in the past two hours.

After a few moments, she scribbled again on a piece of parchment. Harry stared warily at her, hoping she had nothing else to do to him. He'd been in the hospital wing for two and a half hours, being tested and prodded, poked and stung by various objects.

"That's all for now," she said, smiling thinly at him. "You may rest for a while - don't get out of bed. If I catch you doing otherwise, you'll find yourself chained down, you hear me?"

Harry nodded, used to the many threats the medi-witch used against her patients. He wanted to just rest anyway. His body ached from all the tests used on him.

He rolled onto his side on the bed, feeling abnormally small on it. He didn't bother covering up, finding no strength or will to do so. He just wanted to lay there and fall asleep, never to wake up again.

But alas, that wouldn't happen. Fate was far to kind to allow that. So he just lay there, his mind reeling from what he imagined had happened the night before, mingled with the flashes of what he could remember. He saw his Godfather's face after Harry's accusation.

Remembering was too painful for him to actually linger on it all. He tried to push it out of his mind, but it wouldn't work.

Harry sighed. Him and his temper; him and his desires. If he hadn't been so selfish in the first place, he thought, nothing of the sort would have happened.

He tucked his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Staring at the blank white curtains of the bed next to his, he continued to think, trying to pull his thoughts through the fogginess in his mind. What would he do after he got out of the hospital, when they realized that nothing was wrong with him? But… what if there was something wrong with him? He had to admit, his behavior of late was beyond his usual nature.

He heard some footsteps and figured it was the nurse again. He inwardly groaned - more poking and prodding.

After a few moments, he didn't hear Madam Pomfrey say anything. He turned his head to look and see who it was and he caught sight of Malfoy, walking into the Hospital Wing while cradling his arm.

He didn't see Harry at first and continued to walk, until he sat down on a bed a few over from his but when the blonde looked up, his eyes narrowed.

"Potter."

"Leave me alone," Harry muttered, letting his head fall back to where it originally was. He stared at a blank spot on a nearby curtain, but his vision clouded as he became slightly lightheaded from the residing fumes around his bed.

"What's wrong, Potty? Did you finally crack?" the other boy smirked at his own wit.

"Actually, no," the Gryffindor replied dully. "It just appears that way."

There was a bit of silence before Harry looked over to the other boy, his eyes narrowing slightly to try and see clearly. His glasses had become askew after turning his head.

His attention focused on the blood that trailed down the other boys arm, and he grimaced at the sight as his stomach churned a bit. He'd never liked the sight of human blood much.

"What's wrong, Potter?" spat Malfoy, noticing the stare.

Harry grimaced at the boy, "I should be asking you that. Let me guess, you got a little too close to Gryffindor territory?"

The others face flushed angrily, "You wish."

"Why would I? You've done it before and I have no reason to want to see the results again," Harry almost laughed at the look of indignation that spread across the Slytherin's face.

"Shut up -"

"What's all this noise?" Madam Pomfrey was back.

She bustled into the room, looking from boy to boy then shrieked at Malfoy, "What in Merlin's name did you do to your arm? Kid's these days!"

The nurse went up to the angered boy and promptly pulled his arm to her, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Ow, woman! Be careful!"

"Don't talk to me like that, Mr. Malfoy. We've been through this routine too many times, so don't act like a spoilt child."

"My father will he-"

"Hear about this, yes, I know," the woman said irritably. "Everyone in this school knows. You only say that every time…"

Harry watched the exchange with amusement. Malfoy was getting disgruntled and annoyed, he could tell, as the medi-witch continued to mess with his arm, albeit a bit roughly. She was muttering under her breath, and shot him a few looks clearly saying that he was next after her examination on the Slytherin.

Groaning, he sat up a bit, readying himself for the next onslaught of potions and healing - or torture, depending on how you looked at it - spells. He continued to watch as the nurse thrust a potion into Malfoy's hands, scolding him on his behavior.

After about five minutes, Harry became bored and stared down at his hands. He mused on how thin they looked, and how pale they were. It was funny, he realized, that whenever you're bored and trying to take your mind off things, you realize things you never did before that just put your mind on other things that were unpleasant to ones self.

"Mr. Potter," a voice called out. "I want you to take this potion," something was thrust into his hands before he even had the chance to look up. "Take all if it - I'm watching you, you know."

Harry swallowed a frustrated sigh before downing the entire vial of potions with a grimace as the intoxicating smell filled his senses. "Shouldn't there be a limit to how many potions you can give someone before they die from some kind of overdose?" he asked sardonically while handing the bottle back to the nurse. He didn't even know what the potion was.

Her face contorted into a look of unease but it was quickly replaced by annoyance - but Harry saw the look. And he knew; she wasn't supposed to be giving him all those potions - at least not in the time she had been. But the nurse he'd known from his world had always been so careful with her patients. She would never allow them to overdose.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy shift himself off the bed he had been sitting on and he walked out of sight, presumably out of the wing. He focused his eyes on Madam Pomfrey's. "From what I gather, too much ingestion of magical substances can cause harm to someone, or make them pass out in the least," he said with feigned arrogance, using only what he thought was right as his knowledge. He honestly didn't know what the truth of the matter was, but he didn't like the look the nurse had had previously.

The woman placed her hands on her hips and scowled down at him. "What are you on about, Mr. Potter? I'm a trained nurse - I know what's good for my patients and what isn't. What I am giving you is perfectly safe - plus it will help sedate you for the last test. You can't be awake when I scan your head for any problem- "

"But all these potions in my system can't be good for me!" Harry practically yelled, his frustration getting the better of him.

"Don't tell me what to do, Mr. Potter."

Harry slipped off the other side of the bed and walked around it, despite the loud and angry protests from the witch.

"Get back in bed," she shrieked, "Mr. Potter, I will get the Headmaster here if you do not do as you're told!"

"And what? I'll just tell him about all the potions you're giving me," he growled out, keeping his balance despite how hazy his mind and body felt. "It's got to be against the rules here. You could easily just put me to sleep by giving me a sleeping draught, not all those bloody pain killers."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but Harry was off before she got a single word out. He walked forward, annoyed and greatly irritated until he swept out of the door.

The halls were deserted - it was obvious that everyone was spending their afternoon outside for the weekend in the nice weather. Harry only wished he could do the same.

After almost fifteen minutes of walking, Harry mumbled under his breath a bit as he staggered slightly in the hall and had to prop himself up against a wall before his vision would settle back from the spinning vertigo that plagued his eyesight.

With his back against the wall, he slid down so that he was now sitting on the cold, stone floor. He felt exhausted and overly drugged up. What did that nurse think she was doing? He could tell by her reactions that she was either giving him those potions under other orders, or she had lost her own mind. The nurse would never do something like that - even if told, Harry mused to himself. Things weren't right - either that, or this world's nurse was just a crazy old bat.

After a bit of calm silence, he remembered his thoughts of her being ordered to do something like that. His mind hurriedly flipped though his memories, trying to pinpoint any that might tell him who might have ordered her to do so. It just didn't make any sense…

The only people he remembered talking to the medi-witch had been Sirius and Dumbledore.

But he could trust them, right?

He shook his head and stood up, heading towards the boy's bathroom that lay across the hall. Upon arriving, he walked up to a sink and turned on the cold water tap. A bit of cold water on his face was enough to wake him up a bit.

He sighed. He had wanted a break from being the Boy-Who-Lived, but that wasn't happening. Now everyone seemed to think he'd gone mental. Harry leaned heavily against the sink's lip, looking up into the mirror.

His reflection stared back, holding just as much anger as he felt inside. He stared for a long time, his mind still clouded over from the potions. He was feeling the way he had that night in Dumbledore's office in his old world, when Sirius had fallen through the veil. He just wanted to get his hands on something - anything, and destroy it; he wanted some control in his situation.

He shut his eyes tightly, gripping onto the edge of the sink. He shook his head - that wouldn't do any good. Everyone would just think he'd lost his sanity even more. But maybe… just maybe, he thought, he was. It was an amusing thought, really. Boy-Who-Lived, actually insane. That would make great Headline in his old world.

He let go of the sink and paced a bit. He needed to sort things out. Last night - what had happened to him? What had driven him into such a state that he couldn't even remember what had happened?

He only remembered bits and pieces of the incident that had taken place in the common room, but it was enough to gather information that no one had provided for him. He grimaced a bit, realizing that none of the adults would ever tell him anything that was going on. It was just like before, but back then, he had Hermione and Ron to confide in…

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes lit up. Hermione! He could ask her for help! If what he needed to know involved research, she would definitely be ready to help. Or, he only hoped she would.

He turned on heel and walked out of the bathroom, wondering where the girl would be. She could be in the library, or the common room working on homework, or she could be out on the Hogwarts grounds with Neville and Ron.

He scowled a bit but shrugged a bit, letting his thoughts go back to what was at hand. He walked quickly through the halls, ignoring the talking portraits and shifting suits of armor. He was pretty sure his little escapade was well known by all in the castle and he didn't want to dwell somewhere where he would be confronted about it before he could figure anything out.

Too much was happening, Harry realized, in such a short time for him. Falling into another world was one thing. Hearing about something that Voldemort was after was another. Hearing that he was going mental - a bit too soon for him.

He gave a rueful smile. Maybe if he went crazy, he wouldn't have to worry about anything. He nearly laughed at the images that provided for him in his mind.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts by then that he didn't realize that another group of people were walking around the corner of the corridor until he walked right into someone.

Falling to the ground, he cursed himself for not paying attention. He grunted an apology and looked up into the red face of Ron who stood in front of him with Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"Er…" Harry stared at each of them in turn before saying slowly, "Hi."

Ron's ears were a crude red color now, "Don't think you can just say 'hi' to Neville after what you did to him last night!"

Harry's eyebrows rose at his exclamation. Looks like he had run out of luck long ago. "I was speaking to everyone, Ron. Not just Neville."

He made a face at Harry, who in turn, saw the uneasy look on Neville's face.

The brown haired boy didn't look Harry in the eye, but said warningly, "Ron.."

"Neville, he tried to hurt you yesterday!" the redhead shouted, pointing at Harry. "Are you just going to let him get by with that? You don't even let Malfoy get off on things like that!"

Harry slowly stood up, brushing dust off the back of his robes. "Maybe you should listen to your friend, Ron," he said, more anger surging through him. He still hadn't calmed down from his other mood swing.

"Don't tell me what to do, Potter! I'm not the insane one here!"

By then, Neville had grabbed the back of Ron's robes with Seamus and the two were attempting to pull the angered Weasley back away from Harry, who stood in front of them, looking murderous.

"Insane?" Harry nearly shouted, his own face reddened with anger. His fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to hex his old friend. "What would you know, Ron? You don't have anything to worry about - you have your family! You have your friends! You don't have some bloody madman after you; so don't you call me insane! You have no idea what it's like - no idea at all!"

The trio of Gryffindor's looked taken aback.

"Harry," Neville said, looking quite alarmed. Harry realized that he was probably scared of him attacking again. "Ron didn't mean that - he's just… just a bit worked up, that's all."

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he turned his gaze on Neville. The other boy stared back, determined not to look away. Ron was still trying to get loose from the other boys' grips, but he hadn't succeeded as of yet.

Harry eventually let out a long sigh, feeling completely defeated in more than one way. "Look, Neville. I… about last night…"

"Don't worry about it," Neville said offhandedly, remembering Harry of his own fourth year when he had spoken to Cedric after the first task.

"No," Harry pushed, running a hand over his face. "I don't know what happened, okay? I had a lot of things on my mind last night and I guess I couldn't handle it anymore. I'm sorry that I tried to hurt you - I have never had any intentions on hurting you."

The others looked slightly disbelieving but they took his apology - or, Neville did.

"Don't worry about it," he said again. He motioned to the others, "Come on, we need to go to the library."

And with that, the other boys walked off, casting glances at Harry's turned back.

Harry in turn, sighed and took a few steps forward. He knew a simple sorry wouldn't get him anywhere, but it was a start. He rounded the corridor without incident that time, and continued to walk down the hall, his mind no longer on where Hermione might be.

He remembered what he had said to Malfoy earlier that day in the Hospital Wing. And mused to himself half heartedly.

Harry was the one that had just gotten a little too close to Gryffindor Territory; and that wasn't something anyone would want - especially if it involved one Ron Weasley.

A/N: Try to be nice with the flames. :D And thanks to all who reviewed last time.