BEYOND SECRETS AND LIES
By: Chiki Yumeshisa

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I am up to no good….okay fine! I don't own Harry Potter….all original characters/ideas are mine to claim.

AN: Hello guys, sorry I'm late coming out with this chapter. I hope you guys aren't too upset. I was backlogged with school work as exams are in the following two weeks. My apologies again! Enjoy!

Warnings: Rated PG13 for language and some ideas with medication abuse.

CHAPTER 3
-Premonition -

Madam Pomfrey bent over Harry's unconscious form, checking his temperature and feeling his pulse. Her round, red face was now pale, and her hand trailed swiftly over the thunder-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. She didn't look pleased at all. "He's in a cold sweat." She murmured. Experimentally, she shook him, but he did not come to. "Mr. Weasley, what happened?"

Ron, who had brought Harry to the hospital wing with Hermione and Seamus, shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, ma'am."

She tsked in response, turning Harry's head from one side to peer in one ear, and then to the other side for the other. Hermione piped up. "Will he be okay?"

"He's weak." She announced. "Mr. Finnigan, can you please get me that pitcher of water?" She nodded toward the counter that she had in the corner. When they chanced upon her, she had been coming into the room to give medicine to another patient she had.

Doing as she bid, Seamus went off to do his task. The hospital wing was a spacious place, with two rows of beds neatly lined against the walls.

Despite the fact that it was a hospital wing, it felt comfortable. Each lamp in the room was burning dimly. Today, it seemed that there was a patient that was sensitive to bright lights. He was sitting on one of the beds, wrappings covering his eyes so that he could only turn his head in the direction of the commotion.

When Seamus returned with the pitcher, the Madam asked at what time Harry had passed out. "In class, ma'am." Seamus said. "He just wouldn't wake up."

She looked grim, setting the pitcher on the night stand next to Harry's bed. "Well, you all just run along back and tell Professor McGonogall that he's under my care, now." She made a shooing motion with her hands and all three turned to leave the room.

Hermione hesitated by the doorway, though, taking a step back. Ron and Seamus kept going, oblivious to the third party's absence. She didn't care, and made her way back into the room. Madam Pomfrey was bent over Harry again, her face puckered into a worried frown. It was apparent that she did not know what was wrong with him.

"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked the question not answered earlier.

The nurse looked up. "Oh, Miss Granger, you're still here?"

"I thought he might need help getting back to class when he wakes up." Hermione answered. She was very worried as well, but she didn't voice it out loud.

The nurse smiled patiently. "Well, he'll be waking soon hopefully. It seems he has overdosed himself on his medication."

"Overdosed?" Hermione repeated, incredulously. Perhaps Madam Pomfrey did know what was wrong with him after all.

Absently, the elder nodded. "Though, I'm not quite sure if it was done purposely or not. And I'm not sure by how much…." She trailed off, realizing that she had said too much.

Hermione was shocked. Overdosed? She knew for a fact that overdosing on any medication could be fatal. She glanced at Harry's pale, sunken face. He was on medication…..

She didn't get a chance to respond when Harry suddenly woke and sat up out of bed, doubling over, his arms crossed over his abdomen. He cried out in pain, his eyes opening wide, so much so that Hermione could see the whites around his pupils clearly. He fell over, stumbling out of bed, making another noise of pain.

Madam Pomfrey instantly had her hands on his shoulders, preventing him from toppling off the bed unceremoniously. He didn't seem to notice, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Gasping, he pulled away from her roughly, making a retch coming out from his open mouth. He tumbled out of the hospital bed and began throwing up.

He hurled all the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He couldn't seem to stop as he continually retched, gasps of pain and displeasure were panted in between. When that ceased, he fell over on his side, like a drunken person, away from the mess he had made. He groaned, his forehead now beaded with sweat.

Madam Pomfrey was a gentle woman, from what Hermione had seen in different circumstances. But this time, she all but picked Harry up like a limp rag doll in her plump fists and smothered him back into bed.

"Where….how….?" Harry was asking. His voice was muffled, and confused. He looked to be exhausted and in pain.

"You're in the hospital wing, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey told him, arranging his robes for him as they had become a tangled mess around his body. She gave him some water. "Sit down and drink – slowly now." He obediently complied, raising the small glass up to his lips into which the nurse had poured him the water.

His green eyes took in Hermione, who had taken a step back and covered her mouth in disgust. When he had drained the cup of its contents, he handed back the glass and looked at Hermione warily when he spoke. "I'm fine now…." His voice had regained its strength despite the fact that he was trembling and pale.

But the nurse had her hand on her hips and a scowl on her lips. "Oh you most certainly are not, young man!" Even Hermione had to flinch at her shout. "Just how much do you take me for?"

Harry glanced away. "I want the truth." Madam Pomfrey commanded. "How much sleep have you gotten lately?"

Harry shrugged. "A few hours a night." His answer was slow in coming, and cautious.

"Food?"

"I eat well." Harry told her. He winced a bit, the lingering pain still running through his system.

"Liar." Hermione piped up. His gaze slid to her in a glare. "Fine," he sighed, seeing Madam Pomfrey raise an eyebrow expectantly. "I ate a small meal yesterday….." he seemed to shrink away under the gaze of the woman. "…and I didn't finish it." He grudgingly allowed.

Madam Pomfrey had taken a pad out and had been writing down his answers. She looked up in disapproval. "When was your last, real meal, Harry?"

He sighed again. "Two weeks ago. I think."

She made a sound with her throat, and began to scribble that down. "How many pills have you taken today?" She asked.

Once again, his gaze went to Hermione. "I don't remember." His voice had grown monotone, so they couldn't tell if he was lying or not. "I'm tired…." He said after a moment of silence. "And dizzy…."

"You do need rest." Madam Pomfrey said.

"Can you give me anything that will make me sleep and not dream?" Harry asked. He looked hopeful.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I do, but I won't give it to you. I don't want to mix any more chemicals in your body than you already have. Overdosing on your pills will not help you to sleep well, Harry. It would be good of you to remember that. I'm just glad you woke up."

Harry looked to be in despair. "Just close your eyes and try to sleep. I don't suppose going to class will help you at all right now." She made a move to get up and leave, but Harry grabbed her arm. "Please." He begged. "I must have them – or else he'll come into my dreams…."

"No, Harry." She told him, firmly. "You were lucky to wake up this time, but if you take anything more, it is likely you will never wake again." Seeing the look on his face, she gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "You are in pain and you're exhausted, I understand. The only thing I can do is put you to sleep….but nothing more…." She took out her wand.

Harry began to protest, but Madam Pomfrey made quick of her work, and the words died from his lips. In moments, he was asleep comfortably.

"Please leave him to his rest now, Miss Granger." She said, and proceeded to clean up the mess Harry had made.

Hermione watched her as she slowly exited the room, glancing back over her shoulder to see Harry's face contort as if the pain had become unbearable.

It was when she was half-way down the hall that she heard his agonized screams. It gave her goose bumps as the screams continued, echoing in the silent hallway.

It hurt that she couldn't help him.

It hurt that she was powerless to stop his torture.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There was a reason to his secrecy, and she had been given a little clue. Hermione was not ready to back down any more. She knew now that they were not the vitamins that Harry had told Ron he was taking. They were powerful drugs – obviously not illegal, but something that was required if Madam Pomfrey knew about them.

Rounding her way back to class, she thought about how Harry had seemed very apprehensive that she had been present when he had been answering the Madam's questions; almost as if he did not want her to hear them.

Was Harry sick? Was that why he seemed so withdrawn? Perhaps it was an illness that was life-threatening. She felt her heart twist at that thought. If he wanted to keep it a secret, then she would leave him to it – but it would be a sad journey for him without anyone to fall back on.

At the same time, she was curious to know what the medication was for. As she was prone to do, she considered the possibilities. Perhaps it was just a small cold, and he had to get rid of it. She sighed inwardly to herself. She realized that what Ron had scolded her of being nosy was true.

When she reached class again, they were still in the middle of the lesson. She met Ron's eye before taking her seat. After class, they went up together to the common rooms, sitting down in one of the chairs.

"So Harry woke up, then…." Ron said, thoughtfully. "That's a good thing. But overdosing…"

"I'm worried, Ron. What would cause him to do that?"

"Didn't you say that he said he was having trouble sleeping? What if it's his lack of sleep that made him forget the amount of medicine he'd already taken?"

That could be too. She pushed a bushy lock of hair over her shoulder, depositing her book bag on the table with a thump. "Medication is nothing to toy around with, Ron." She said. It was common knowledge that overdosing was harmful.

"Maybe Harry is suicidal, then." Ron suggested.

"Come off it Ron!" Hermione said. She couldn't help but note that he had struck a similar chord of thought in her mind, but she didn't dare say so out loud. "I can't help but wonder what type of medication it was."

Now, Ron looked ill at ease. "You really aren't going to give up, are you?"

She shook her head. "I have a feeling something's wrong – something bad is about to happen. And it all revolves around Harry." She faced him then and said seriously, "Ron, tell me what the bottle of medication's name was."

"I told you last night: I don't remember it. And if I did, it's probably not correct."

She had hoped he would remember. Maybe it was a drug she was familiar with, or she would remember having read about. And if she didn't remember or know it, she'd research it. "Do you remember what color they are?"

"Does it make a difference?" He asked, throwing his own book bag down next to hers.

Hermione's shoulders slumped in response. "Not really….are you sure you don't remember any letters to the bottle?"

Ron seemed to hesitate, forcing himself to recall the bottle he had held. He remembered reading the label before Harry had snatched it away. He remembered it vaguely, but the exact name escaped him. "Olazine, or something." He said finally. "But I think the name was a little longer than that, I just can't remember it correctly."

It was enough though, because Hermione's eyes had lit up. "It doesn't sound familiar, but I'll research on it." Hermione knew that he was not happy that she was digging herself deeper into Harry's situation.

"Fine, look into it." He murmured, snagging the strap to his book bag and fingering the material between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. "But since it's a Muggle drug, why not ask your parents if they know anything. It would save you time."

Hermione broke into a smile. First, because she had gotten her way again, and secondly because Ron had come up with a better solution than the one she had been thinking of.

>>>>>>>>>>

It was black - black as death. It was like wandering down a road that had no end, with no way to see what surrounded on either side, front or back. It was torture.

And then, a bright light appeared, hitting him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him as he fell backward to the ground with alarming speed. Pain lanced through his body, and he arched his back with a cry as the pain paraded through his mind.

The light engulfed him, and he sucked in a gasp as it felt as though he was being plunged naked into freezing water. His body felt sore and stiff, and the use of his limbs were like dead weight.

"Bryce…" He groaned, knowingly. He felt his panic level heighten.

"Harry?" It was a female's voice, quiet and frightened. "Harry, Paris won't come out. He's scared…."

Harry tried to turn his head, but was unable to. "Harry….Harry help me! Paris is scared that Bryce will hurt him."

"I won't hurt him." It was a male's voice, deep as that of one who was a teenager. "I won't hurt anyone." He suddenly appeared in front of Harry, who twisted against his invisible bonds frantically. His heart had begun to pump hard, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He didn't want Bryce to come any closer. "Unless…."

Bryce looked almost like him, with dark hair and green gray eyes. His face was longer though, with a mouth that was always set into a sneer. He was taller and older too. He was a menacing presence. "Harry. It's good to see you again." All Harry could do was stare. Bryce brought his face closer. "Nothing to say?"

"Why….?" Harry managed.

His face twisted in anger, and Bryce's fist connected with Harry's stomach. "Because of you, you son of a bitch." He growled. His cool countenance and smooth voice had changed. Harry groaned from the impact of the punch. He hated encounters like these. "Why won't you let me out? You can't succeed, you know?"

Panting, Harry brought his head up to look at Bryce once more. "You can't come out, Bryce. I won't allow it – I can't."

The next punch made Harry fall back. Harry heard Paris scream in fright. "You can't keep me here!" Bryce was shouting. "You won't get rid of me!"

Harry wished he could die. In Bryce's grip he could do nothing; it was as if he were a rag doll. Why and how the brute had suddenly awoken and claimed Harry's mind, was beyond his control.

Suddenly, someone stepped in front of him, arms outstretched protectively. "Leave him alone!"

"Liliana, how good to see you again too."

She turned to face Harry, her green eyes wide. "We have got to get out of here, Harry." Her black hair fell like a curtain about her, in straight, long strands that stopped short at her mid back.

Liliana was thrown back too, skidding a few feet away from where Harry stood, her cry echoing around him. Dread built up in Harry's chest, as Bryce took a step forward. "Stay out of my way: today, Harry and I are going to have a little….talk."

Harry screamed.

He wondered if he'd ever wake up.

To Be Continued……..

AN: Hi everyone! Thanks for the reviews, and thanks for your encouragement! I'm so happy to see that the HP fandom is very open to this idea. (and that no one has already claimed this idea). As to who Bryce, Liliana and Paris are, they will appear in this story a lot more. If anyone has any guesses, please leave it in your review. I'm sorry if it was a bit confusing at the end.

Harry was dreaming, deep in a nightmare. Later on, Bryce, Liliana and Paris will begin to make sense.

So until next update, everyone, please leave me a review! The more reviews, the more I update! So please click that little button down there.