The Very Long Night Of Harry Potter

A/N: I remembered to include an A/N this time! Yay! Anyway, I want to say thank you to all of my loyal reviewers; EJAU, belovedranger, bardlover, Potterfriendz, alloy, and hp-chick: thank you for sticking with me!

Chapter 7- 11:10 P.M.

Harry was running blindly though the corridors, not noticing or acknowledging where he was going. All he could focus on was that his godfather was gone again.

Sirius... It was like a physical pain, like the time before, all over again. Only this time... this time he wouldn't be forced to confront the pain by... by Dumbledore... The name rang through Harry's mind and the pain redoubled once more, his heart in a vise, as he, instead of confronting the pain, ran from it.

Harry turned another corner, not noticing where he was, his legs obeying their only standing order. Run. Run away. He didn't notice the open classroom door midway down the hall, or the hands extending from it; at least, he didn't notice them until he reached them. They seized him and pulled him inside the classroom in a tangle of limbs.

Harry fought to extricate himself from the jumble, jumping back up to his feet and was about to start running again until he realized who it was. Still in their cloaks were Ron and Hermione wearing concerned expressions on their faces. He heard the door close and whirled around to see Ginny standing by it. Seeing them, seeing their faces, filled him with such a sense of relief that his legs buckled, landing him back on the floor, sitting on his heels.

"Harry? You alright there, mate?"

Ron's words were the final blow to an already weakened dam. Harry started sobbing and slumped to the floor.

"Sirius... He got Sirius... He's gone..."

Harry felt warm arms picking him up off the floor and wrapping themselves around him. "It's ok, Harry. It'll be alright," Ginny said softly into Harry's ear as she cradled him in her arms. She whispered soothingly to Harry, rocking him back and forth for several minutes as Harry went to pieces in her embrace.

"Sirius... he's gone again... I couldn't save him, Gin... I was there, and I couldn't save him... he sacrificed himself for me, just like my parents did..." Harry said between sobs, the tears rolling down his face. "I can't face him... I'm not strong enough... the people I love keep getting taken from me..." Harry wept as Ginny held him close, emotional wounds long since closed reopening, and all the more painful for that, with no barriers for him to hid his pain behind inside of his own mind.

"It's fine, Harry... Everything will be alright... You can beat him... we won't leave you..."

After several minutes, Harry had pulled enough of himself back together to be able to function again. He looked up into Ginny's chocolate-brown eyes through his red-rimmed green ones. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Anytime," she said back, smiling.

Ron and Hermione had been sitting and waiting patiently the entire time Harry had been indisposed in Ginny's arms. Ron mutely handed him a handkerchief; Harry took it gratefully and blew his nose.

"Feeling better, Harry?" Hermione asked softly.

"Much. Thanks," Harry responded from behind the hankie.

After another minute or so, Harry felt almost back to normal; well, as normal as one can feel in a coma, with his personality fractured, and a personal enemy inside said coma with him with the intention of finishing him off. And on that note, it is time to get back to business...he said to himself.

"So," Harry said, getting back to his feet and stowing the handkerchief inside his pocket and his sorrow to the back of his mind, "where is everybody now?"

He knew from his questioning before, that his fragments, with the exception of himself, the primary fragment, could sense where the others were, himself included. They couldn't tell where Tom was, however, since he wasn't a fragment of Harry's mind, and thus didn't have the tenuous connections that bound the others together and allowed him to retain his personality in all of its aspects.

He remembered the conversation where they had laid out all the details of the fracturing, and his reaction to some features of it, back in that room.

'So what happens if one you dies!? Will I be able to think,' indicating Hermione, 'or feel,' looking at Ginny's image, 'or be myself at all!?' he'd yelled at them.

Hermione had answered him. 'No, Harry, you'll have your personality intact if... when you leave the coma, just as it was.'

'Great,' he had muttered sarcastically.

The brunette had continued as if she hadn't heard him, 'In here, however, it will work a little differently...'

'Of course it will,' he had interjected, feeling very sarcastic, 'it's never that easy, is it?'

'...as, by killing the fragment, Voldemort isn't destroying that piece of your personality, he's just... making it harder for you to access it. So if I die...'

'Don't even say that. Don't even think it,' he had interrupted, his voice calm but dangerous at the mere suggestion.

'If I die, for example,' she had continued doggedly, 'you'll still have your intelligence, but it'll be de-emphasized, so you might start acting more impulsively, for instance,' she had finished with a nod to Sirius.

He had managed to calm himself down and had continued to pace in front of the fireplace. 'So why can't I communicate through this connection like the rest of you...'

Dragging himself back to the present, Harry saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny looking at each other in askance at Harry's question. After a moment Ginny stepped forward.

"Well, the twins are currently trying to lever open the portrait hole into Gryffindor Tower, since the Fat Lady isn't there," she said, as Harry ticked off on his fingers. "Lupin and Cedric are searching the potions dungeons, trying to see if they can figure out what potions Voldemort has made, and Neville is on his way to join up with the twins."

Wait... that's only eight accounted for...who's missing...? "Where's Luna?" Harry asked.

"She's gone, Harry," Ron said, his voice choking. "He got her back in that room. Passed out from the gas."

Harry's knees almost gave out on him again and pain clouded his face. Forcing himself to remain standing, he said in a shaking voice, "Luna's gone?"

All three nodded sadly.

Within moments Harry's sorrow had transfigured itself to boiling-hot rage, charging back to the forefront of his mind. No more, do you understand me, Tom!? You've taken enough from us. No more friends, no more loved ones, no more families, no more lives. You'll take no more, he promised himself.

His face set, Harry turned to the images of his friends and said, "Come on. We're going to Gryffindor Tower, meet up with the twins, and then we're going to take this fight to Tom."

~*~*~*~*~

While Ron and Ginny were gaping incredulously at Healer Pomfrey, Hermione asked quickly and anxiously, "Can't you brew some more of the potion?"

With a sad shake of her head, the senior Healer crashed their hopes. "I'm sorry, but since we so rarely have to use it, we only keep one dose's worth on hand at a time, and I believe it takes seven weeks to brew."

Ron spoke up. "What about buying some? Maybe the apothecary in Diagon Alley has some in stock...?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

His face fell when Pomfrey shook her head. "No, they won't have any. This is a very specific potion with a very specific purpose. The only reason that we keep any on hand is for emergencies like this."

"What about Professor Slughorn? Maybe he has some," Ginny said anxiously.

"I doubt it, dear," Pomfrey said, and added, upon spying Alexander's quizzical look, "He's the Potions Master at Hogwarts, came back from his retirement last year. My sister Poppy told me."

"Wasn't the old Potions Master the one who..." Andrews began asking, trailing off when he turned to look at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and saw the deadly expressions on their faces. The remaining occupants of the room also looked at the teens and decided, as one, that now was really not the time for further conversation.

Utter silence reigned for several moments, as the trio, expressions wooden, kept their emotions covered outwardly at least. However, if the sparks shooting out of their wandtips were any indication of their mental state, they were all rather... upset at the thought of Serverus Snape.

Hermione, surprisingly, seemed to be having the most trouble of the three keeping her state of mind clear if her wand was any indication; at the moment, it resembled a Muggle sparkler firework.

Scrimgeour and Percy froze, not quite as thoroughly as Umbridge, but still quite motionless, obviously worried about provoking them with any sudden movements, while Ron, Hermione and Ginny worked at keeping themselves under control.

When the sparks had ceased issuing from their wandtips, Pomfrey obviously felt that the likelihood of startling them and getting hexed by accident or impulse had diminished enough. She spoke up into the silence that had been dominated only by the sounds of Harry's monitoring spell, beeping, lub-dubing, and chirping merrily to itself.

"I'm afraid that Ms. Granger is right; the three of you are the only ones close enough to Mr. Potter for this to work at all, but only one of you can actually go under and help."

Scrimgeour jumped in, feeling safer now that the trio of teens had calmed down somewhat. "Perhaps the Ministry has some in stock, or can get some here from abroad..." he said with a triumphant smile, clearly wanting to have Harry and his friends indebted to him.

Pomfrey turned towards him. "Certainly, Minister. Would you like to return to the Ministry to begin that search?" she said politely but firmly, obviously doubting his ability to find more of the potion, but clearly wanting the Minister off the premises before he triggered another incident. "We'll use what we have here, though, for the time being. Oh, and don't worry, we'll take care of Dawlish," for Scrimgeour had looked like he was about to interrupt, "As a matter of fact... Healer Andrews, would you be so kind as to take Auror Dawlish to the Spell Damage ward?"

Andrews moved forward quickly and conjured a stretcher, levitated Dawlish onto it, and left the room with the stretcher floating after him.

Pomfrey continued, "And as for Undersecretary Umbridge... Ms. Granger, would you be so kind...?" Hermione smirked lightly and preformed the counter-jinx. Moments later, Umbridge was climbing back to her feet. Hermione exchanged a grin with her boyfriend as she and Ron both silently noted that this was Umbridge's only change in posture where there was a noticeable change in altitude.

"Oh, and Minister?" Pomfrey said. "If you do manage to find another dose of the potion, please, send it along with someone else. We don't want to take away any more of your valuable time."

Shooting them all nasty looks, Scrimgeour, Umbridge and Percy turned to leave. Before they made it out the door, however, Hermione spoke up.

"Minister, I just have one question for you before you leave."

Scrimgeour stopped and turned with an ugly expression on his face. "What is it, Ms. Granger? Do you want to know what I came here for? Or perhaps, how much trouble you and your friends here are in? Or do you want information on You-Know-Who, perhaps?" he said, his uncanny resemblance to an elderly lion going beyond appearance and entering the vocal.

"No," Hermione responded, a feral smile on her face, "I just want to know..." She paused.

"Out with it, girl!" he fairly roared.

"...have you released Stan Shunpike yet?"

Scrimgeour turned a rather vivid shade of purple mixed with a deep scarlet, scowled at them and slammed the door behind him.

"I'll just take that as a 'No' then," Hermione said softly as she, Ron and Ginny looked at each other for a few moments, then spontaneously burst out laughing.

The adult Weasleys and Healers exchanged quizzical looks as Ron, Hermione and Ginny laughed themselves hoarse, with one winding down, only to catch, through eyes filled with tears of laughter, a glimpse of the other two hooting with glee, which would set them all off again.

After several minutes, they had managed to calm themselves down enough to be able to talk normally, although all three were clutching stitches in their sides, several hours of heavy stress unburdened in a few short minutes.

Hermione said, breathing as if she had just run a race, "Well, that got him out of the way." She gasped, clutched her side, and then continued, "Could you please bring the potion here? The sooner I take it, the sooner I can help Harry."

"Excuse me?" Ginny said, incredulous, though also winded, "Who said that you would be the one to help Harry?"

"I did," said Mrs. Weasley sharply, "and as much as I hate the idea of sending any of you into danger, Hermione is the logical choice to help Harry."

"But..." Ron and Ginny both protested.