Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I'm glad not to.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the amazing reviews! I'm so glad you enjoyed that chapter. I'm so glad that you think I pulled off the discussion between Harry and Severus. Their conversations are so interesting to write, and I definitely don't want to make their shift in dynamic too quick. Those two have a lot to get past, as they've been at odds for so long.

As for Snape's cover, he can say that because the poisoning was not part of the Dark Lord's plan, he had to save Harry in order for him to be alive to bring back Voldemort. That's why it helps him that whoever poisoned Harry was not doing it because he was ordered to.

I'm glad you liked Dumbledore's conversation with Snape as well. There are so many interpretations of Dumbledore out there, and I hope that everyone continues to like mine. When I saw his and Severus's dynamic in Deathly Hallows, it shocked me. I never thought I'd see Dumbledore actually being cruel to him. I always thought their relationship was better than how it was portrayed. Therefore, in this story, Dumbledore is a mixture of both. He's kind to Severus, but has a sharp tongue when he thinks he needs to. Dumbledore is an extremely nuanced character, in my opinion. He's very difficult to write at times.

By the way, just a quick heads up to everybody. On Saturday, May 13 of this great year of 2023, I am getting married to my loving, wonderful, amazing fiance Ryan. There will be a lot of family time both before and after the wedding. I live in the US, but I used to live in the UK and therefore have tons of family coming for the wedding. Because of this, updates will be slower around that time. I will try to get as much writing done as I can, and I'm certainly not giving up on the story. I just thought I'd warn you guys ahead of time. I'll remind you once the time gets closer. We will also be going to the UK for our honeymoon, and that will be in June. The same thing applies there - we will be gone for eleven days, from Friday, June 9 until Tuesday, June 20. Updates will be slower during that time as well. I apologize in advance, and I hope you understand.

In any case, I know my wedding and honeymoon will be amazing. And you guys should know that as well as all the other amazing things about him, Ryan is so incredibly supportive of all my fanfic. I never managed to persuade him to read the series, but in some ways, he doesn't need to. I'm always talking about it, and sometimes bounce ideas off of him for my stories!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

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Ron, Hermione, and Neville exited the hospital wing the next morning, not at all happy that they had to go to class, but Harry had been very understanding. He'd smiled at all three of them, and he'd even made a joke. "You don't want to go to class, Hermione?" he'd teased. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger? Should I check for Polyjuice Potion?"

Hermione had smiled, but her eyes were sad and worried. "How many times do I have to tell you?" she'd chastised lightly. "You are more important than any class." She'd squeezed Harry's hand. "I'm so glad you're going to be all right," she'd said, her voice trembling slightly with pent-up emotion.

Harry had smiled again, but there was a darkness in his eyes that Ron didn't like one bit. "Yeah," he'd said softly, sounding very unsure of any such fact. "I'm going to be fine."

Even though Ron knew that Harry was obviously in a lot of pain, there was a stark difference between his reaction now and how he had acted at the end of first and second year. He had been positive that Harry would always bounce back from whatever was thrown at him. He was stubborn, defiant, and brave to the point of complete recklessness at times.

But now, he was tired. He hadn't bounced back like he had the other times. Ron still remembered when Harry had awoken from his coma in first year. He'd been so eager to get back to the rhythm of Hogwarts, and he kept insisting to Madam Pomfrey that he was fine and that please, could he leave the hospital wing now? He still remembered Pomfrey's stern response, but Ron saw what Harry hadn't. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen the way the school Healer had looked at him - there was raw emotion on her face for just a second. She understood how close she had come to not being able to save him.

And now, this time, Ron saw the same emotion on her face, along with a sorrow he hadn't seen in her before. She'd noticed it too, hadn't she? Harry was tired. Harry was not raring to go, unable to wait to leave the hospital wing. His emerald eyes looked different now, and it scared Ron. Something had happened to his friend in the years since he had first met him. To the people that didn't know him, he was the same Harry that he had always been. But to those who knew him best, he seemed very different.

And Ron wanted the old Harry back. He wanted him to stop brooding. He wanted him to play chess and Exploding Snap like he had before. He wanted him to scowl in annoyance at Hermione, who would keep telling him to get his schoolwork done on time. He wanted the humor to shine behind Harry's eyes as he admitted, if only to himself, that Hermione never meant any harm. He wanted Harry to laugh with him about what a fool Professor Trelawney was. He wanted him to gripe about McGonagall setting them impossible assignments in Transfiguration. He was begging for him to complain about how stupid the Skrewts were. And he desperately wanted him to go on and on about how Snape's Potions assignment was bunk, and how Malfoy was nothing but a slimy, arrogant, stupid bully, and how dare he poison him!

But Harry had said no such thing. Instead, he had explicitly told them that he did not suspect Malfoy to be the one who had done it. Ron thought he was stark raving bonkers. Malfoy had ample reason to do it. His father was a Death Eater. Ron was positive that Malfoy's father had been one of those who had worn that evil skull mask during the violence at the Quidditch World Cup. He remembered the Muggle family who had dangled in the air, and the looks of pure terror that had been plastered on their faces. Thank Merlin they had all survived that experience. He had been terrified that the Death Eaters would murder them.

And yet, Harry somehow thought that bloody Draco Malfoy was innocent? He'd specifically told his friends to leave the Slytherin alone. He'd lain in the hospital bed, obviously in a lot of pain, and wished them luck with classes. When they'd asked him when he'd awoken, he'd gotten a strange look on his face and explained that it had been in the early hours of the morning.

"Was anyone with you?" Hermione had asked. "I'm sorry we couldn't be there. Madam Pomfrey made us leave."

Harry had smiled at his friends, but there was a weariness behind it. "It's all right," he'd said gently. "Professor Snape was there."

Ron couldn't forget that Snape had been the one that had saved Harry's life. He would never forget how the man's black robes billowed out behind him as he strode into the room, and the urgency in his movements as he and Madam Pomfrey administered the potion that gave Harry yet another chance. Before Snape had come in, Ron had been terrified. His best mate's breathing had become shallower and shallower, and his fever had spiked to a dangerous level. Madam Pomfrey had given him a fever-reducing potion, but it barely worked. Ron knew his best friend was dying, and the more time that passed, the more sure he was that Snape wouldn't get there in time.

But he had, and Ron couldn't forget it. But why did the man treat Harry like he did? Why had he been so cruel? And why, in the last few weeks, had he completely ignored him all through class? Ron knew it all went back to that detention that Harry had returned from, completely shaken and unwilling to talk about what had happened.

"Snape?" Neville had said. "Really?"

"Why?" Ron had blurted out. "What did he say?"

"Nothing much," Harry said, but Ron got the distinct impression that he was leaving things out. "He gave me a potion for the pain."

"Well, that's good," said Hermione. "Did he say anything about who might have done this?"

"No," Harry replied tiredly. "I don't think he knows."

"Well, he'd better bloody find out," Ron said mutinously. "What if he tries to do it again?"

Harry had looked at all his friends meaningfully. "Please," he had said, the tone of his voice shocking Ron. "I know you think it's Malfoy, but it isn't. I can't explain it ... but I know it's not him. Please don't do anything to him. It's not fair to accuse someone who didn't do anything."

"But how do you know?" Ron asked, attempting to keep the frustration out of his voice. "He has every reason to do it. It's Malfoy."

"But you don't have any proof," Harry said, echoing exactly what Hermione had said the day before. "If there suddenly is some, I'll change my mind. I'll be just as angry as you are. But let the teachers sort it out, please?"

Ron said nothing. Harry looked awful - there was pain in his emerald eyes, and his voice was weak. Ron felt his heart freeze at the sight.

"Please, Ron," Harry pleaded, and Ron's insides only grew colder; he'd never heard Harry speak in such a manner before.

Ron ached. "Okay," he finally agreed, because he couldn't bear the way the other boy was looking at him. "I won't attack Malfoy."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, his eyes clearly showing the pain he was in.

"Harry, should we get Madam Pomfrey?" Neville asked softly, his face full of concern. "You need something for the pain."

Harry shook his head. "I had a pain potion an hour ago," he explained quietly. "I can't have any more for another five."

"That's ridiculous," Ron fumed. "You're feeling awful!"

Harry sighed. "That potion can only do so much," he said, becoming more exhausted by the second. "It was a really bad poison." He looked at his friends with clear affection. "You should be going to class. Don't you have Transfiguration first thing?"

"Er, yeah," Neville said. "I'm sorry we have to leave."

"It's okay," Harry said, attempting another smile and failing miserably. "I'm going back to sleep anyway."

"Ron," Hermione said, pulling Ron out of his recollections as they made their way to Transfiguration. "Are you all right?"

"Do I look all right, Hermione?" Ron asked, instantly regretting the snappish tone he had used.

Hermione, who would normally snap back at him, looked very sad instead. "Sorry," she mumbled. "That was a stupid question. I'm not okay either."

"I wish we could have stayed with him," Neville added. "But I reckon he fell asleep right after we left."

"Yeah," Ron said. "He's not the same, is he?"

"He was poisoned, Ron," said Hermione, but it was obvious she was extremely worried for him. "It's going to take him a while to recover."

Ron didn't answer; he was still thinking over this morning's conversation. He knew that something had happened between Harry and Snape during the early hours of the morning, and once again, he was refusing to discuss it. Why was he shutting out his friends? It wasn't fair.

As they got closer to Transfiguration, Ron couldn't help but think about Harry's Muggle relatives again. He remembered vividly when he and his family had gone to retrieve Harry that summer. Hilarity had ensued when Harry's pathetic cousin had picked up one of the twins' Ton-Tongue Toffees. Although the result had been rather amusing, he couldn't forget the way Harry's aunt and uncle had looked at their nephew with the utmost hatred, like everything was his fault and that their world was destroyed because of him.

The year before, his dad had been obsessed with learning how to use a fellytone, as he'd kept calling it. Hermione, however, had taught Ron the correct term - telephone. Ron had called Harry on it, rather impressed with the Muggle appliance. But apparently, he hadn't used it in the right way - he'd figured he needed to shout for Harry to hear him. He'd discovered this not to be the case, but Petunia and Vernon's complete and utter fury did not befit the situation. They acted like Ron had murdered one of their family members rather than make a simple mistake with an appliance he didn't know how to use.

And whenever Ron saw Harry after the summer, it took him a little while to become the happy friend he knew Again. But he had always seemed to bounce back before - this year, not so much. Something in the back of his mind told him that Harry's relationship with his relatives was worse than he suspected. But Merlin, he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to acknowledge that his best friend was in a horrible situation at home. And he certainly didn't want to acknowledge the guilt he felt for complaining about how Fred and George always teased him, Ginny got so much attention because she was the darling little girl her mother had always wanted, and that Harry was the famous Boy Who Lived who had accomplished tremendous feats. He didn't want to think that maybe, just maybe, Harry was fragile and hurting and dealing with things no one should have to endure.

During Transfiguration, Ron knew his mind was preoccupied, but he didn't care. McGonagall's lecture was like white noise to him, and he didn't do at all well during the practical portion of the lesson. Hermione, who would normally huff in annoyance at him and tell him to pay attention, didn't do any such thing. She did well in the lesson, but she wasn't up to her usual standards either, which was saying something. This was Hermione Granger, after all - the girl who was able to learn a spell perfectly in one lesson. Neville, who had been improving in this subject more than he gave himself credit for, might as well have regressed several months. His spellwork was clumsy, but unlike before when it had frustrated him to no end, he didn't seem to mind. Harry's friends had more important things to deal with than whether McGonagall chewed them out for not performing well in her lesson.

Thankfully, McGonagall did not chew them out - she barely looked at them at all, and when she did, it was a very brief, subtle gaze. It was softer than the looks she normally gave them, and Ron, Hermione, and Neville very much appreciated her understanding.

"I'll do better next time," Hermione said as they headed out of the classroom. "I'm glad Professor McGonagall didn't say anything."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Neville said quietly. "You still did better than the rest of us."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "You're still amazing."

Hermione flushed slightly, and gave them a small smile. "I think we're all a bit ..." she started.

"Uncaring about schoolwork?" Ron supplied. "Wishing we could skip class and instead spend time with Harry?"

"He ... he almost died," Hermione said in a tiny voice, sounding completely undone by everything that had happened.

"And Snape was the one to save his life," Neville said. "And he didn't say anything about us missing our classes yesterday."

"What universe are we in?" Ron asked, that haze of confusion settling over his mind again. "And Harry thinks Malfoy's innocent."

"I think so, too," Neville dared to say, and as he looked at Ron with an almost defiant gaze, he knew he wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise.

Harry's plea that Ron not accuse Malfoy without proof echoed through Ron's mind as he said nothing in response, knowing that this was the only thing keeping him from arguing with Neville. For the first time, he was completely and utterly alone in his feelings, as he knew that Hermione also agreed with Neville.

Truly, what universe was he living in?

"I'll meet you in the courtyard," Ron murmured as he turned the corner. "I've got to use the toilet."

Hermione and Neville nodded in ascent as Ron turned the corner into the next corridor, and found the boys' bathroom he often used between classes. He was grateful that there were often breaks between each lesson - it gave students time to do things like this, as well as catch their breath. Why was it that each year, classes seemed to get more difficult? The teachers also felt the need to pile the homework on more than ever as each year passed. He'd heard some pretty horrible things about fifth year, and what students had to go through to prepare for the OWL's. However, since this supposed knowledge came straight from Fred and George, he didn't know whether to believe it. You never knew, with those two. They, after all, had informed Ron that you had to fight a troll to get Sorted into your house. His parents had refused to tell him how each student was Sorted, as they wanted Ron to experience the novelty of it for himself.

Once Ron entered the boys' bathroom, he splashed some water on his face. Maybe it would help rid him of the sheer and utter confusion that was swamping him. He was alone, or at least, he thought he was. He could be wrong - most of the time, there wasn't a lot of talk in the boys' bathroom. Hermione sometimes complained about the gossip she heard while she was in the girls' toilet. Lavender and Parvati were constantly talking about boys in there; that was the common complaint from her. She said she had sometimes heard girls crying in there, too, and she suspected it was over a boy. "It's ridiculous," she had proclaimed with her nose in the air. "I'd never let a boy affect me like that."

Ron didn't know why, but he'd felt rather irritated by that statement. Bloody hell, why did Hermione always have to pretend that she didn't get emotional? He'd seen the way she'd wiped away tears when he and Harry had refused to talk to her because of the Firebolt. He'd seen the way she'd fought back sobs when Ron was furious with her because of Scabbers. He still felt guilty over those incidents, especially the one concerning that traitorous rat - Crookshanks had had the right idea all along. Hermione and her bloody pride. She didn't have to pretend that she couldn't be just as emotional as Lavender and Parvati and the other girls she complained about.

Ron sighed, conducting his business and then going to the sink to wash his hands. He was just about to leave the bathroom when a sound stopped him in his tracks - a sound he'd heard all too often at the Burrow when the twins took it upon themselves to eat too much candy or to test one of their experiments on themselves. He had seen Harry's face right before he'd run out of the classroom during the lesson about the Unforgivables, knowing that it was about to happen to him. Hermione had gone after him, and there was no doubt in Ron's mind that Harry was about to lose everything that had been in his stomach. And worst of all, he'd heard that awful sound only yesterday, when Harry had collapsed in the corridor.

It was the sound of someone being sick.

Oh Merlin. Not again. Not again. No. No. No. It wasn't Harry this time - he was obviously still in the hospital wing. But was the person who had poisoned Harry at it again?

Ron was frozen, just like he had been the day before. The sound permeated every fiber of his being, and a vivid flashback took hold - he saw Harry, puking up blood, his entire body shaking. Then he saw him convulsing, unable to articulate a single thing - he was dying. Then, he was lying in the hospital wing as Ron, Neville, and Hermione sat in chairs around him. Hermione was sobbing while she gently held his hand, Harry's ragged breathing being the only other sound in the room. As the minutes passed, Harry looked worse and worse, and Ron knew that they were losing him. They were losing Harry. He wasn't going to make it out of this one.

Terror gripped Ron. Which one of his classmates was it now? Hogwarts would need to be shut down if this continued. It was the Chamber all over again - only this time, it felt even worse. Oh Merlin, was it one of his family members?

Ron suddenly came out of his frozen state and ran to the place where he heard the sound coming from. He threw an unlocking spell at the stall door ...

... Only to see Draco Malfoy bent over the toilet, puking into it.

Ronald Weasley had never felt as shocked in his life as he did at that moment. Draco Malfoy looked absolutely miserable. And Ron had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Malfoy!" Ron's voice was loud in the silent bathroom - the boy had thankfully just stopped throwing up. "What the ..."

Malfoy stood up so fast that Ron barely had time to register what was going on. He only had a split second to realize that Malfoy was not being affected by the same poison that had almost killed Harry - after all, his best friend was certainly unable to stand after puking up blood. And Harry certainly couldn't have raised his wand in the next instant.

"MALFOY!" Ron bellowed. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

"Go away, Weasel Bee!" Malfoy shouted, though it did not come out the way Ron was sure he'd wanted it to. His voice was weak, and the juvenile nickname barely registered. There was a high-pitched, desperate quality to it that Ron had never heard before.

"What?" Ron demanded, his shock quickly turning to anger. "A bloke can't be decent and ask what's wrong when he hears someone being ill?"

"I'm not ill, Weasel! Leave me ALONE!" Malfoy shouted, raising his wand higher. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Ron jumped out of the way of the leg-locker curse. "Stop it, Malfoy!" he hollered, feeling completely out of his depth. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong is that you walked in on me while I was in the toilet, you ... you ..." Malfoy was breathing hard, sweat pouring off his forehead.

"Feeling guilty, Malfoy?" Ron hissed at him, momentarily forgetting what he had promised Harry. "Is that it, hmm? Do you realize what you did to Harry?"

Malfoy glowered at him, looking equally angry. "I didn't do anything to Potter, Weasel," he said in a much quieter voice. "I didn't touch the stupid idiot."

"Oh yeah?" Ron spat at the blond, a blind haze of rage taking over him. How dare Malfoy force Ron to relive Harry's poisoning! How dare he make Ron feel concerned about him, even if it was only for a split second! "Tell me another one, you bloody, evil, son of a Death Eater wanker!"

This time, Ron was the one to raise his wand, and Malfoy raised his in turn.

The next minute, or thereabouts, was a blur as Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy threw spells at each other. But it was clear that neither of them were in their right mind as none of their hexes hit the other. Instead, the boys' bathroom became a mess of broken sinks and destroyed stalls.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Suddenly, the bathroom door was thrown open, and one of the Hufflepuff Prefects, Cedric Diggory, strode in. It was also common knowledge among the school that he was going to put himself in for Hogwarts champion when it was time to sign up for the Triwizard Tournament.

"Stop this at once!" Cedric exclaimed as he raised his own wand, and a burst of red sparks flew out of it. "Lower your wands. Both of you are in a lot of trouble."

Both boys did as they were told, but they were loathe to do so. Anger still pumped through Ron's veins - anger and confusion. Why had he caught Draco Malfoy being sick in the bathroom? And why did a tiny part of Ron believe him when he'd protested that he had nothing to do with Harry's poisoning?

"We're going to see the Headmaster. Now," Diggory said, looking supremely unamused as he beckoned for both boys to follow him.

Ron thought that Malfoy would spew out a nasty comment, but surprisingly, he didn't. He looked just as miserable as Ron felt as Diggory marched them down many corridors until they reached a place that Ron had only ever been once, when his little sister had survived the Chamber of Secrets.

As they reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, Ron glanced one more time at Malfoy. Why in Merlin's name did he suddenly feel so guilty? And why did he have the sudden realization that he'd just let Harry down enormously?