Disclaimer: Nope.

Author's Note: Phew! What a week! Hi folks. I've just recovered from having a really rotten upper respiratory infection, which I came back from England with. For a while, I was feeling okay, but then it got worse and I ended up having to go to the doctor's. Needless to say, I was put on antibiotics and am now pretty much recovered. The readers of my other story, Keep Holding On, already knew about this, but I wanted to apologize to you folks as well because it slowed me down quite a bit in terms of updating. Sometimes, my real life gets busy enough that it takes me this long to update anyway, but this time, I feel bad that it was because of illness. I'm just glad that now that I've had some rest and recuperation, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm happy to be back on my feet again. Thank you all for saying you're glad my honeymoon went well.

Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! Yes, Draco keeps being tested, and the fear and confusion he feels are very real. Harry wanting to have a civil conversation with him threw him for a loop, too, so him reverting to his usual hostile behavior is a defensive mechanism he's using. Man, I love writing psychological stuff like this. I've always found characters in stories completely fascinating, and you can certainly have a field day with people like Draco and Snape.

I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was Tuesday morning, and as Harry awoke yet again in the sterile hospital wing, he knew he should be happy. He knew he should be throwing himself out of bed, full of energy and vitality. He should be rushing to finish his morning routine, excited for the day ahead.

After all, on Sunday evening, his fever had finally, finally broken, and Madam Pomfrey had told him that if it didn't return, he would be allowed out of the hospital wing today. Things had continued to improve yesterday as far as his strength and energy level, and his temperature remained normal. Therefore, Madam Pomfrey, probably after one last examination of him, would finally release him from the clutches of the infirmary and let him go on his way.

It was true that Harry was getting exceedingly sick of being stuck in this room, but what would it be like for him to return to classes? All anyone would want to talk about was his poisoning. They'd ask him how he felt about the fact that Zabini had been the one to do it. Others would look at him with sympathy, telling him they were so sorry that this had ever happened to him. Yet others would glare at him, seeming to despise that he was still, apparently, the Boy Who Lived - he had survived yet something else that he wasn't supposed to.

You're being ridiculous, Potter. Why was it that these days, whenever Harry's sarcastic inner voice spoke, it sounded just like Snape's drawl? Make up your mind. Do you want to be in the hospital wing, or do you not?

Harry sighed and grabbed his clothes, which were resting on a chair by his bed. Neville, Ron, and Hermione had told him last night that they would pick him up before breakfast, and if he had received Madam Pomfrey's seal of approval, they'd take him to the Great Hall. Harry almost groaned, knowing what was going to happen - the room would fall into a hushed silence when he walked in, and then the whispers and stares would start. People would be murmuring his name all over the hall, and people would continue to stare at him, wondering how this life-threatening encounter would change him.

But he couldn't deny his friends. He knew how much they'd missed him, and in truth, he'd missed them, too, even though they'd come to visit him every day. He couldn't be selfish even though he honestly didn't want to face the rest of the school.

After getting dressed and performing his morning routine, he figured he might as well get this over with. He knocked on Madam Pomfrey's office door, and she poked her head out. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Potter. I suppose you're wanting a final examination."

"Morning, Madam Pomfrey," Harry replied. "Yes, please. Neville, Ron, and Hermione are coming to pick me up soon."

Pomfrey didn't say anything to this, but simply started walking over to Harry's bed, and he followed. Sitting down on it, he let Madam Pomfrey do her normal scan, running her wand over him and checking his temperature and vital signs.

Finally, she lowered her wand and looked at him, and there was no disguising the pure relief in her eyes. "When your friends come to pick you up, you are free to go," she said. "Now, remember what I have told you. Do not do anything strenuous, and yes, that means flying. I know that's not something you want to hear, but I do NOT, under any circumstances, want to see you back in here. If, and only if, you are feeling stronger by next Monday, you may fly again, but not until then. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said dully, a familiar surge of annoyance flying through him, but he tamped it down. Knowing that he had to thank her for everything she had done for him, he knew he couldn't lose his temper. "Thank you for ... everything," he said quietly, not quite knowing what else to say.

Madam Pomfrey's professional mask cracked even more at that moment, and she looked like she was fighting her own emotions. "That's quite all right, Harry," she said, and the use of his first name threw him. "I would also like you to get plenty of rest and drink plenty of fluids. You are still recuperating, young man."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Don't worry. I will."

"Good." Madam Pomfrey turned around and began walking back to her office. "I take it your friends will arrive in a few minutes?"

At that moment, the doors to the hospital wing opened, and Neville, Ron, and Hermione walked in. "Looks like they're here now," Harry replied, and at the genuinely happy smiles his friends were giving him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for them. "Thanks again, Madam Pomfrey."

"You're welcome. Now go and eat," the matron said, disappearing into her office.

"That's wonderful, Harry," Hermione beamed. "You can eat breakfast with us, and go to class."

"Thank Merlin," Ron breathed. "It's about bloody time you got out of this place."

"Classes haven't been the same without you," Neville admitted softly, his tone sincere.

"And the best thing is, we have no Potions today," Ron said with a grin. "We're Snape-free."

Harry just nodded at this, giving Ron no visible reaction. Lately, Ron had been mentioning Snape in front of Harry a lot to see how he would respond, but Harry wouldn't take the bait. He still felt far too confused, hurt, and guilty to really try and work through his emotions surrounding the man. Ever since their confrontation regarding the Philosopher's Stone, Harry had heard Quirrell's screams every single night in his nightmares.

Neville actually scowled at Ron, which let Harry know that the round-faced boy knew exactly what he was doing and didn't like it. Harry appreciated all three of his friends, but there was something about Neville that really struck a chord within him. He would never, ever forget their talk about their families and how, really, they didn't act like family at all.

"Come on, let's go," said Hermione, attempting to break the tension between all four of them. "We'll miss breakfast if we don't hurry up."

"Yeah, I'm starving," said Ron. "I want some crispy potatoes."

"Leave some for me, mate," Harry joked, even though he was dreading the moment they entered the Great Hall. "You can't shove them all down your throat."

"Oh, shut up," Ron said, but he was smiling. "I'd be as big as a house if I actually ate everything you say I do."

The others chuckled as they exited the hospital wing and began to make their way down the corridor. As they walked, they ran into several students. Upon seeing Harry walking with his friends, many of them gasped. Two of the students they ran into were none other than the Creevy brothers, Colin and Dennis. Colin was in third year, while Dennis was in first.

"Oh wow! You're back! You're back! Harry's back!" The joy that Colin exuded was palpable. "We ... we were so scared for you! We were so worried!"

Dennis smiled at Harry too. "I'm so glad you're feeling better," he enthused. "We heard the Weasley twins saying that once you got out of the infirmary, they'd throw you a party in the common room. They'll be so thrilled that it's tonight!"

Harry tried to smile, but didn't know how well he'd managed to pull it off. A party in the common room. Just great. He'd be the center of attention yet again, with his classmates fawning all over him. Merlin, he was in no mood for this.

Ungrateful brat. Now, his inner voice sounded like Aunt Petunia. Extremely selfish. Spoiled. Privileged. Unappreciative of what others do for you. You don't deserve any of it.

"Thank you, Colin, Dennis. I'm glad to be back, too," Harry said, even though he was sure he must be lying. How could he possibly turn down a party if the twins wanted to throw one for him? Harry liked the twins - they had never failed to show him that he was cared about. They'd told him that he was part of the family. Sometimes, their constant humor got a bit much, but they meant well and Harry would truly feel like a self-centered berk if he upset them.

"Are you coming to breakfast?" Colin chirped. "You must be hungry."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Ron's all over the crispy potatoes. Better take some before he eats them all."

"Those are delicious," Dennis beamed. "I wish I could eat them all, too."

"Me too," Colin said with a laugh, still looking at Harry with adoration in his eyes. Harry sighed inaudibly - he couldn't be angry with Colin and Dennis. They, too, only meant well - he was just glad that Colin wasn't currently snapping a thousand pictures of him.

When they got to the Great Hall, Harry's prediction was correct, unfortunately. The room fell into a silence as soon as he walked in. Then, the silence grew to whispers, murmurs, and stares.

"He's back! Did you know Harry was coming back today?"

"No, I had no idea. He still looks a bit pale, doesn't he?"

"He was poisoned, you prat! Do you expect him to look as healthy as a horse?"

"Zabini's bloody insane. Does Harry know his trial's next week?"

Well, I do now, Harry thought, wondering if he'd be asked to attend, and whether he'd want to. Did he wish to see Zabini in the flesh? Where would the trial even be? Zabini was only fourteen - would he be put in Azkaban even at his age?

As he continued to walk towards the Gryffindor table, he was distracted from his thoughts about Zabini when a momentous cheer rose up, and it came from his housemates. Many of them stood as he made it the last few steps to the table, clapping and cheering. Some of the students were even wiping away tears, their smiles enormous as they screamed out his name. "HARRY! Oh thank Merlin! He's BACK!"

The cheering and applause grew louder and louder as many of the students from other houses stood up too, mainly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Harry looked at the Slytherin table, and his eyes happened to catch Malfoy's for a moment. Malfoy, who had been released from the hospital wing yesterday. Malfoy, who Harry had attempted to talk to again before he left, but the only response the blond boy gave was a hateful, "Leave me alone, Potter. What part of that didn't you understand?"

But Harry had seen beyond the spiteful words. He'd seen that Malfoy looked so confused and vulnerable that it actually hurt him. It was ludicrous. The fact that he wanted to reach out to the other boy ... he must be going mental. Malfoy was never going to change, was he? He'd keep calling Hermione a Mudblood - hadn't he done so, again, on Sunday? Harry would never be able to get through to him. Harry would never be able to make him understand that his views were wrong.

But Malfoy was changing, and Harry knew it. It was extremely subtle, but Harry could see it. And the attempt on his life by Zabini ... Malfoy was completely shaken by it. As he glowered at the warm welcome back that Harry was receiving, his gray eyes smoldering with anger, Harry honestly couldn't be offended. Bloody hell, he was actually feeling sympathy for the other boy.

Fred and George pounded Harry on the back. "Party tonight in the common room," George said in his ear. "We have some incredibly fun things planned."

"Welcome back, my friend," Fred said, grinning widely. "We can't wait to celebrate with you."

xxx

Classes went by very slowly that day. His teachers looked very relieved to have him back amongst them. Professor Flitwick, especially, was beaming from ear to ear when Harry walked in.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville stuck to him like glue. Harry knew Hermione meant well, but it seemed like every time a class ended, she asked, "Are you okay, Harry? You're not too tired, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," Harry would always answer, irked by her constant mothering. She was scared for you, his inner voice said. You are being extremely selfish, once again.

By the time dinner rolled around, he had had enough of the stares he was receiving from so many students. Most of them came up to him, too, to ask how he was feeling. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil asked an endless amount of questions about what it had been like to recover from such an ordeal. Hermione had ended up snapping at them, telling them to leave Harry alone. Harry looked at her gratefully while her two roommates glared furiously at her, but Hermione didn't back down. She glared right back, her hands on her hips, and eventually, Lavender and Parvati sulkily walked away.

Harry did not want to participate in any bloody party. By the time he returned to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, he was absolutely exhausted. Hermione wasn't happy about the party, either, but it was for different reasons - she wanted to get her homework done, and she knew Harry didn't want to be involved in such a thing.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Neville said to him quietly as he reluctantly sat down on one of the squashy couches. "I can tell the twins that you need to rest."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, even though he looked disappointed. "I can tell them that if you want. But come on, mate. You're out of Madam Pomfrey's clutches and back with us. Don't you want to celebrate?"

It was one of those moments when Harry felt completely disconnected from his best friend. But, Merlin, he couldn't be angry with Ron. How was he supposed to know that Harry was fighting this insane ... depression? How was Ron supposed to know that Harry was no longer the boy he'd befriended on the train?

"It's all right," said Harry, because he just didn't have it in his heart to let down Fred and George. "If they want to throw me a party, I'm not going to say no. You know how much I appreciate your brothers, mate," he said to Ron.

The other boy smiled, looking relieved, but Neville still looked unsure. Harry smiled at him, reassuring him that he was okay with it all.

It wasn't that long later that the party got under way. Fred and George did not disappoint - they had procured plenty of food from the kitchens, and they'd told Harry in no uncertain terms that the elves were thrilled to provide it for them all.

House-elves. Harry tried not to show any kind of facial expression at this. House-elves. He had told Ron, Hermione, and Neville that Blaise had been the one to poison him, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to explain the whole plan. He had not told them that Draco had been moments away from being killed. He hadn't told them that Zabini had used Dobby as a means of murdering Harry. And he had not dared to tell Ron that Zabini had been planning to frame him for Malfoy's murder.

Why had he kept all of that from them? Honestly, he didn't know. Deep down, he knew that secrets like this wouldn't remain secrets for long. Zabini's trial was next week - it was bound to all come out then.

It had helped that the article that had come out in the Daily Prophet yesterday hadn't revealed much information. It had only said that Blaise Zabini was the one who had made an attempt on Harry's life. It did not mention Malfoy, Dobby, or Ron. Who had told the press about it, and why had all that information been left out? Harry could only be glad for it, however.

All through the day today, students had asked him about how Zabini had pulled off the plan to poison him, and about how the boy had been caught. The Prophet article had not gone into detail about any of it - it only said that Zabini had been caught by a staff member, leaving the students to speculate and wonder about it ceaselessly. Harry had told each and every student the same thing - that Dumbledore had only told him Zabini had been caught, and refused to tell him how any of this had happened. Harry's irritation with Dumbledore hadn't lessened at all, and honestly, he hadn't minded lying about him.

And, maybe he didn't reveal any of it to his friends because he didn't want to see the horror on Ron's face when he found out that he had been set up to be framed. Maybe he didn't want to see Hermione in floods of tears about poor Dobby - why should he put her through that? And maybe ... maybe he did not want to hear them start speculating about how Malfoy was handling almost being killed. It was Malfoy's business and it wouldn't be fair for others to talk about how he was doing emotionally. Harry could understand why he was protecting both Ron and Hermione, but Merlin, the fact that he was protecting Malfoy, too ... things were really changing.

He knew, however, that it was safe to tell Neville all of this. Somehow, he didn't see Neville as someone who would find it his business to spout endlessly about the woes of Draco Malfoy. But if he told Neville, he'd feel like he was obligated to tell Ron and Hermione - and he couldn't do that.

What kind of friend am I? Harry thought as he tried to enjoy the party, but knew he was failing. He shuddered when he saw all the food and drink - the house-elves had prepared it. What if one of them had been put under the Imperius Curse by someone else? He was tempted to yell at everyone not to eat any of the food or drink the drink, but they were devouring it like it was going out of style. Harry felt nauseous, but Fred and George were grinning and looked so full of joy that he couldn't deny them anything. He grabbed some chips, some biscuits, and a cup of warm cocoa so as not to look incredibly ungrateful for the effort the twins had made.

Eventually, Hermione realized that Harry couldn't take anymore and whispered to him, "You need to go to bed, Harry. You look exhausted and we have classes tomorrow."

"It's all right, Harry," Neville said softly. "The twins won't be offended if you tell them you're tired. You've been really ill - they'll understand."

Ron looked disappointed, but nodded as well. "Get some rest, mate."

Harry gave his friends a small smile and walked over to where the twins were chatting up Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Katie was laughing wildly, and Angelina was trying her best to look supremely annoyed, but wasn't succeeding. "Would you STOP IT, you two!" she shrieked, unable to hide the sudden burst of laughter that bubbled out of her.

"Oh no, Angie, honey. We're not going to stop it, as you say," Fred said.

"You're laughing, you silly woman. You must think we're the funniest blokes in town. Don't deny it," George chortled.

All Angelina could do was laugh, her entire body shaking with it. Any hint of foe annoyance disappeared off her face as she gave in to the hilarity that the twins were obviously causing.

"Er, Fred? George?" Harry felt guilty for interrupting the moment. "Thank you two so much for everything. I'm ... I'm really exhausted and need to go to bed."

"Ooh, must you leave so early?" Fred pouted. "This is in your honor, you know!"

George tried to look offended, but failed - Harry could see honest sympathy in the boy's eyes. "If you must," he said, his tone playful even though his eyes were full of understanding. "If your bed is calling you, I suppose you must heed it."

Harry smiled at the twins, the expression genuine. "Thanks, mates," he said. "And you don't have to stop the party on my account."

"Oh, you're giving us permission to continue to annoy Angie over here?" Fred teased, turning to grin at the girl, whose laughing fit had still not ceased.

Harry smiled back. "I don't think she's annoyed," he replied. "She can't stop laughing."

"You have fine observational skills," George commented with a chuckle. "We bow to your greatness, oh sir Harry."

Katie Bell smiled at Harry. "Get away from those two buffoons and get some rest," she said. "We're all really glad you're back, you know. It was ... scary, what happened."

Harry knew Katie was being sincere, and he felt a little warmth come into his body. "Thanks, Katie," he said quietly. Turning back to the twins, he said, "Good night."

"Night, Harrykins," Fred said.

"See you in the morning, bright-eyed and messy-haired," George added.

After saying good night to many others in the common room, Harry finally made it to his dormitory. After completing his evening routine, he crawled into the bed ...

Only to see his water bottle sitting innocently on the nightstand. The same water bottle that had been filled with poison. The same water bottle Harry had drunk from if he woke up in the middle of the night and was thirsty. The same water bottle that he would have never, ever suspected to be the thing that had almost killed him.

Harry had no doubt that there was no more poison in that bottle, and it only contained clear, cold water now. But honestly, with the way he was feeling, it didn't matter.

With a burst of sudden anger, Harry picked up the bottle and threw it away from himself. It landed on the other side of the bed, and there was no way that Harry was going to go and pick it up. He knew one thing for sure - he was never, ever going to drink from that water bottle. Not ever again.

Feeling drained, Harry lay down on his pillow and sighed. He should be happy. He was out of the hospital wing. He was back with his friends. He was attending classes as usual. Fred and George had been incredible - they'd thrown him an amazing welcome back party.

But as sleep finally claimed Harry, the boy knew that despite all of it, he was not happy.

Not at all.