Chapter Twelve

'Were there always this many stairs on the way back to Gryffindor Tower?'

Harry had just finished a rather aggressive round of treatments, and he was slowly, but surely, trying to make his way back to the common room. Never in his life had he imagined the simple act of walking could be made this difficult. The treatments had left him feeling weak and shaky, not to mention nauseated. It also didn't help that his collar bone and hip were being especially troublesome, throbbing like a thousand knives being stabbed into his joints all at once.

"Ah! Bloody hell!" he cried out at the sharp pain in his collar bone.

Hand flying up to his shoulder, he stumbled into the wall and leaned against it, trying to find his bearings. His breaths were ragged and he was starting to sweat rather profusely. He could feel it forming at his temples and slowly trailing down his face and neck. The thin white shirt he was wearing was already starting to soak through. He tried his hardest to remain standing, knowing that if he were to faint and end up back in the infirmary, he was going to get a big fat 'I told you so' from Pomfrey.

'Maybe I should've listened to her and stayed in the hospital wing for a bit longer.'

Despite his best efforts, his vision started to darken around the edges and found himself crumpling to the ground involuntarily.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up to see Ginny running towards him. He quickly plastered a smile to his face, but internally the only thing he was thinking was 'crap crap crap crap.'

Ginny dropped down in front of him, her red hair wild around her face from running, and her brown eyes wide with concern. "Harry, are you alright?"

"Hey, Gin," Harry said, trying to play it casual, but his hoarse voice betrayed him. "I'm alright, just feeling a bit dizzy."

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" she asked, taking hold of his arm to help him to his feet.

"No I-Ah!" A sharp pain tore through his clavicle, causing him to stumble into Ginny.

"Harry?" Ginny sounded alarmed, grabbing hold of him to keep him from falling. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I just need-" Harry closed his eyes when an intense wave of nausea rolled over him, "-to sit down."

"Alright, yeah, okay," Ginny nodded, slowly helping him lower back to the floor.

Now that he was sitting, he no longer felt quite on the verge of fainting and he managed to take a few deep breaths to clear the nausea. His skin was slick with sweat, causing his shirt to stick to his form. It felt gross and he decided the first thing he was going to do when he got back to the dorms was change clothes.

Looking up at Ginny, he saw that she was concentrating on something quite intently. "Harry, what's this?"

She reached out and, before Harry could stop her, pulled down the neck of his shirt to reveal the catheter attached to his chest. Mentally, Harry was releasing a rather colorful string of swear words. He really should have worn a jumper or something heavier.

"Thats, um...that's-" Crap, he couldn't think of a logical excuse. That was more Hermione's area of expertise. "-nothing?"

'Absolutely brilliant cover up there, Harry.'

"This doesn't have anything to do with what was in the papers the other day, does it?" Ginny asked, her expression growing increasingly suspicious, "or why you spontaneously quit the Quidditch team?"

Harry averted his eyes. Just as predicted, the Daily Prophet had featured the whole fiasco at The Three Broomsticks. It hadn't taken long for rumors to spread like wildfire through the school and he'd spent nearly two days fighting off a bombardment of questions from his peers. He'd eventually managed to brush them off with the excuse that 'the Prophet is always exaggerating things about me.' Which wasn't entirely untrue.

But, looking back into Ginny's worried and honest face, Harry felt himself unwilling to lie. Hermione's words rang in his ears: 'Do you think it's fair to let them find out after you've died?'

That thought made Harry's heart feel funny and he was overwhelmed with an incredible amount of guilt. Despite how brief their relationship had been, it had, and still continued to mean something to Harry. He knew Ginny would never stop being someone special to him. It didn't matter if it was as friends or something more, she would always be important. Painfully, he was struck with the realization of how much time he was going to miss out on with her; how much time with her he'd already missed out on.

"Harry?" Ginny sounded even more worried due to his silence. "What's going on?"

Harry had to look away again, because he was suddenly extremely embarrassed having to admit that he was sick. Everyone saw him as the hero that'd defeated Voldemort, yet he couldn't even defeat some disease. How stupidly ironic was that?

Keeping his attention focused on a strange-shaped scuff mark on the ground, Harry took a deep breath. "A little while ago, I got some...news."

"News?" Ginny repeated. "What kind of news?"

"Er...well," Harry shifted uncomfortably. Why was this so difficult? "I guess I should explain that, when I survived the killing curse, it had some um...lasting effects."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny demanded, sounding higher pitched. "Just tell me what's happening!"

"I um...I have cancer," Harry finished lamely. It certainly hadn't been the eloquent way he'd envisioned himself telling her, but he supposed there was so no 'good' way of saying he was dying.

"Cancer?" Ginny furrowed her eyebrows. "What's that?"

Harry resisted the urge to groan. He'd really hoped he wouldn't have to explain any more, but he should have known things never went that easily for him.

"A disease..." He dared a glance at her. "A terminal one."

Ginny went so still and quiet that Harry wasn't entirely sure that she'd actually heard him at first. All of the color drained from her face, making her fiery red hair look even brighter than usual. She was staring straight at him, but it looked more like she was staring through him. Feeling more awkward than ever, Harry just waited for her to say something.

"How long?" she whispered so quietly Harry barely heard her.

"How long what?" he asked in confusion.

"How long have you known?" She was staring straight into his eyes now.

Harry swallowed heavily. "About three months."

Ginny was suddenly on her feet, looking down at Harry with absolute fire in her eyes. "And you didn't think to tell me before now?"

"I, uh, well..." Harry felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. He really wished Hermione was there, she'd know how to mediate this situation. "...I didn't want to worry you."

"So, what, you were going to wait til you died for me to find out?" Ginny practically fumed.

"No!" Harry defended, but the conviction in his voice immediately died. "I...I don't know."

"You don't know?!" Ginny all but yelled, causing Harry to blanch. "What about everyone else? Ron and Hermione? How do you think they're going to feel?"

"They already know," Harry said quietly.

"So you'd tell them but not me?"

"They're my best friends!" Harry shouted back, but immediately snapped his mouth shut after realizing how bad that'd sounded.

Ginny stopped and stared at him, a look of total disbelief and hurt crossing her face. "You're such an insensitive jerk sometimes, Harry."

With that, she gathered up her satchel and stormed off. Harry watched her retreating back with shock, shame burrowing deep into his chest. That had not gone well at all. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry at her, because he knew she had all the right in the world to be so furious with him.

Bracing his hand on the wall, Harry carefully pushed himself onto his feet. He thought for sure he was going to end up right back on the floor but then a pair of hands grabbed hold of him and steadied him. Looking over, he saw Neville standing beside him. Harry blinked a few times in surprise.

"Neville? Where'd you come from?" he asked in confusion.

"Sorry, Harry," Neville said, his face flushing slightly. "I was just heading towards the common room when I heard you and Ginny talking and..."

"And you heard everything, didn't you?" Harry sighed. He supposed it saved him the trouble of having to tell Neville at least.

"Yeah, sorry," Neville looked a bit embarrassed. "Are you really...you know?"

"Dying?" Harry finished and Neville nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"Oh," Nevile said, obviously not entirely sure how to respond to something like that. Who could blame him? "How are you feeling?"

"Right now, or in general?" Harry asked as he started to walk down the corridor. Neville kept his hand on his arm the entire time, for which Harry was grateful because he was feeling ridiculously unsteady.

"Both, I guess."

"Well, right now, I feel rather crappy," Harry laughed softly, "but in general, I think I'm doing alright. I've kind of had time to adjust, you know?"

"So you're not afraid or anything?" Neville asked, glancing over at him. "I mean, you're the bravest person I know but, it's still got to be kind of scary."

"I'm not so much afraid of dying," Harry started, pausing momentarily, "as I am of missing out on everything."

"That makes sense," Neville nodded. "Is there anything you wish you could do?"

Harry realized he'd never considered that question before. He'd been so caught up in the drama of dying that he'd never stopped to think about the things he'd like to do before he died. That was the normal thing to do, after all, wasn't it? Harry was sure that most people's lists probably included wild adventures or some crazy stunt they'd always wanted to pull, but Harry found he had no desire for anything like that. His life had been nothing but excitement and adventure since the day he was born, so he'd had more than his fill of both of those things.

"I think..." Harry started thoughtfully, "I think all I'd want to do is take my NEWTs and graduate Hogwarts."

"If you'd been anyone else, that probably would have been surprising," Neville said with a smile, "but you've always wanted a normal life."

"So much for that wish, huh?" Harry snorted then looked over to Neville curiously. "So, are you angry that I didn't tell you about this before?"

"Not really," Neville shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I like Ginny and all, but she had no right to get that angry with you."

Harry was surprised at that. "What do you mean?"

"Well...it's kind of your personal business, isn't it?" Neville said thoughtfully. "I know you, Harry. You wouldn't do something unless you had a good reason to be doing it."

"I suppose," Harry looked down at the ground as they walked. "I still feel rather horrible for keeping something like this a secret from everyone."

"Why did you?" Neville asked curiously.

Harry paused for a moment, having to really think about that. "I guess I didn't want everyone to worry; I wanted to be left alone; I didn't want the attention; I was embarrassed; I was scared."

"Honestly, Harry, I think anyone else in your position would've been exactly the same," Neville said reassuringly.

Harry tilted his head at him. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Neville said. "I can't imagine anyone would have the perfect reaction to, you know, dying."

"You're taking this oddly well," Harry pointed out. "Ron and Hermione got scary over protective when they found out, and well, you saw Ginny's reaction..."

Neville laughed. "Don't get me wrong, Harry. I hate that you're getting the shit end of the stick again; but you said you're alright, so I'm alright too."

Harry felt himself smile at that, his appreciation for Neville going up several notches. He sort of wished he hadn't taken so long to tell Neville now, because he could have used that kind of positivity when things with Hermione and Ron had gone sour. "Thanks, Neville. That really means a lot to me."

"Well, you've always been there for me, so I'm just returning the favor," Neville responded. "So, are you going to tell the others?"

Harry sighed and turned his eyes up towards the ceiling. "I s'pose I should, shouldn't I?"

"That's up to you, Harry," Neville said with a shrug. "Just know that your friends are there for you."

Harry was perfectly aware of the fact that he had a bad habit of trying to tackle all of his problems on his own. It most likely came from a childhood of abuse and neglect where he always had to fend for himself; but now, he had friends and people who cared about him. He could no longer use the excuse that he had to always take care of everything.

He didn't have to do this all alone.

xxxxx

Telling Dean and Seamus hadn't been nearly as bad as telling Ginny had been. It'd probably helped that he had Ron and Neville there as moral support. They'd taken it a bit roughly at first, but they quickly snapped into 'super supportive friend mode' after the initial shock. They'd even adamantly insisted on accompanying him for his next treatment, which meant they were all currently grouped around his bed. It was a bit awkward having people watch him get chemo, but he supposed it was better than staring at blank walls the entire time.

"Blimey, how do you not die of boredom in here?" Seamus commented, sitting slouched in a chair next to Harry's bed.

"Because Madam Pomfrey won't let me die," Harry responded with a laugh.

"Tough luck, mate," Dean shook his head with a snort, then turned his attention to the IV that was attached to Harry's chest. "So...does it hurt?"

Harry glanced down at it and shrugged. "Not really. The side effects are worse."

"How long does it normally take?" Seamus asked, curiously poking at the IV bag.

"Oi, be careful, idiot," Ron chastised, swatting Seamus's hand away.

"About an hour, maybe a little longer," Harry said, snickering as Seamus rubbed at his hand. "I kind of zone out sometimes."

"Bloody hell, I don't think I could survive sitting in here for an hour every day!" Seamus said, shocked.

"It's not every day," Harry pointed out. "I only get treatments three times a week."

"That's still an ungodly amount of time to be spending in the infirmary," Seamus made a face.

"Knowing Harry, he's probably made more than a few escape attempts," Dean grinned.

"You don't even know," Ron said, rolling his eyes in Harry's direction. "We were seriously considering getting a babysitter for him at one point."

"I'm not that bad," Harry huffed, but when Ron's eyebrows raised, he grinned sheepishly. "...anymore, at least."

"True, I don't think I've had to carry you to the infirmary in a few weeks," Ron nodded.

"You had to carry Harry to the infirmary?" Seamus asked and burst out laughing. "I would've paid to see that!"

"It wasn't funny," Harry glared but Ron just grinned.

"You're right. It was hilarious."

"You're so lucky I'm attached to this stupid IV, or I'd be kicking your arse right about now," Harry tossed his pillow at Ron's head.

Dean, Seamus and Neville all snickered. Ron just picked up the pillow and used it to cushion his back.

"Hey, where's Hermione, anyway?" Dean asked, looking around the infirmary.

"I think she's talking to Ginny," Ron replied. "She got in a right state about Harry."

"Ouch," Seamus winced in sympathy. "I'm sure she'll come around."

"I hop-oooh," Harry suddenly groaned, clutching at his stomach.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Seamus said, suddenly sitting up straight.

"I think the chemo's kicking in."

"Hold on, Harry," Ron said, leaping from his seat and grabbing Harry's puke bucket for him.

"Thanks," Harry said when Ron thrust the bucket under his face.

Clutching it tightly in his hands, Harry leaned over the bucket and breathed heavily as the nausea swept over him like a tidal wave. He tried to swallow down the acidic bile rising in his throat, but it was no use. With one, violent heave, the entire contents of his stomach started spilling out of his mouth and into the bucket with disgusting sounding splashes. Ron just encouragingly rubbed the space between his shoulder blades as Harry continued to gag, not stopping until only clear stomach acid was coming out. When he finally finished, he gasped for breath and fumbled for his wand, using it to clean up the mess in the bucket.

Setting the bucket aside, Harry noticed that everyone else in the room was trying their best not to look straight at him. It was rather obvious that none of them knew the proper way to react to the situation. His cheeks started to warm up from slight embarrassment and shame. It was one thing for everyone to know that he was sick, it was a completely other thing for them to actually witness it.

Fortunately, the awkward moment was interrupted by the infirmary doors opening. Everyone simultaneously turned their heads to the two people who'd entered the room. Hermione was there, leading a rather distraught looking Ginny after her. Her cheeks were tear stained and her eyes were puffy and red from crying. Harry's heart constricted painfully in his chest at the sight of her. He suddenly wanted to rip his IV out and go over to her. However, he was saved the need to by Hermione and Ginny walking over to him first.

"Er, uh, I think we'll just be going," Seamus said, standing from his chair abruptly. "Come on guys, let's go see if lunch is ready."

"Right," Ron, Neville and Dean nodded, following Seamus's lead. They all gave Harry pats on the shoulder before walking out of the infirmary.

"I'll just be going as well," Hermione said with a smile, giving Ginny a reassuring squeeze on the arm. "I'll come check on you later, okay?"

Harry just nodded, his eyes following Hermione until she disappeared out the door. Slowly, he brought his gaze back over to Ginny and shifted on the bed. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat and fiddled absently with the IV tubes.

"Um, how are you?" he asked, feeling a bit stupid for asking considering the state of her, but he wasn't sure how else to break the silence.

"Alright, I guess," Ginny shrugged, taking a seat in one of the vacated chairs. She clasped her hands together and stared down on them. There was a long pause before she let out a deep sigh. "Listen...I'm sorry for-"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, shaking his head. "It was understandable, really."

"It just took me by surprise," Ginny explained, finally bringing her eyes up to meet his. "I didn't know how to react."

"It's alright, really," Harry offered a smile. "I've gotten pretty angry about it too, trust me."

"I feel badly for just leaving you in the corridor like that," Ginny turned her gaze down again in embarrassment.

"Neville came to my rescue," Harry reassured her with a soft laugh. "No harm done."

Ginny just looked away at that, her eyes intently focusing on the wall opposite of them. She brought a hand up and discreetly tried to wipe away a fresh wave of tears, but Harry saw them rolling down her cheeks. With another painful pang in his chest, Harry desperately wished he was better at comforting girls Or people in general. It was a skill he'd never possessed and he usually ended up making the situation worse when he tried. However, just seeing Ginny there like that made him sit up and reach out to grab hold of her wrist.

She looked at him in surprise, but he just gently tugged on her arm until she got up out of her seat and came over to join him on the bed. When she sat down next to him, Harry moved his hand to lock his fingers with hers and give her a reassuring squeeze. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she squeezed back, a few more tears sliding down her cheeks. His heart was pounding from how warm her hand felt in his, and he suddenly wished he never had to let go. Even with tears in her eyes, she looked so heart-breakingly beautiful just then.

"Look, it's snowing," he said quietly, looking out the window.

Ginny followed his gaze and together they watched the gentle fall of the delicate snowflakes just outside. They made soft pattering sounds as they fell against the window, filling the infirmary with a quiet sort of peacefulness. He dolefully thought about how this would be the last time he ever got to see the snowfall.

"Are you coming over for Christmas this year?" Ginny asked, still staring out the window.

"I wouldn't miss out on your mum's cooking for the world," Harry said with a chuckle.

"Mum's going to be devastated," Ginny whispered, her hand tightening around Harry's. "So's dad, and George, and everyone else."

It seemed that Ginny could no longer hold back because she started sobbing at that point. The only thing Harry could think to do was pull her down so she was lying next to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and drew her as close against his body as possible. Her arms clung to him with equal desperation, her face pressing into his shoulder where he could feel the hot wetness of her tears against his skin.

"It's going to be alright, Gin," Harry said, tightening his hold even more. "I promise."

She just shook her head as if she didn't believe him, her fingers clutching at the back of his shirt like she thought he would disappear if she let go even a little bit. He just let her cry into his chest, knowing she had to get it all out before things could start to feel better again. All he could do until then was continue to assure her that everything would be alright. It hurt now, but pain was a fleeting emotion that'd eventually heal.

"I promise," he whispered.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is a bit later than usual. I've been struggling a bit with inspiration to write. At least there's only about one more chapter left, so I think I should be able to handle that haha. Anyway, thank you so much for reading. Reviews are appreciated!