The Importance of a Gum Wrapper

"Is he going to be okay?" Harry asked Dumbledore, staring at the curtains that closed off Neville from the world. Dumbledore turned his intense gaze towards Harry. Harry noticed the usual twinkle in his eyes was missing, replaced by a wrath unmatched by any before. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a shriek. Both turned to see who it was.

Harry saw a streak of red, and then something flung itself on him, crying and babbling on about how they were so scared. He smiled to Dumbledore slightly as Mrs. Weasley pulled herself away from him and looked him over to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Oh Harry! I was so worried! You could've died! Poor Neville," she said, disentangling herself from Harry and walking over to the curtains in an attempt to get a peek at the boy lying just behind them. "Poor, poor Neville."

"Harry, mate!" Ron came up to Harry from the stairwell, pulling him into a tight one-armed hug. Behind him, he could see the whole Weasley family emerge from the stairwell, along with Hermione.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, flinging herself on him in much the same fashion as Mrs. Weasley had. "I was so worried when they called! Oh poor Neville! They can fix him, right? Oh, I came as soon as I could! But when I heard--"

Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder at Ron, who was looking at Hermione almost in a protective manner. Almost glaring at Harry.

"--Harry what's the matter?" She looked back at Ron over her shoulder. With widened eyes, she broke away from Harry, her face turning the deepest shade of crimson it had ever gone. "Oh, hello Ron," she said quietly, almost in a whisper. It seemed as though in her haste to se if Harry was okay, she had not even said hello to Ron. Ron blushed as well, finally realising the looks he had been shooting at Harry. Harry simply smiled. When will they ever learn?

Harry looked over at the youngest Weasley and they shared a knowing smile. Harry fought to keep his mind on Neville, but it was kind of hard when he had the most beautiful red head he had ever seen standing in front of him, shooting small smiles at him. Give the guy a break, okay?

The door of the ward opened, and the Head Healer came up to Harry to question him. He was a squat, old man with bright blue eyes and hair that had previously been brown, but was now tinged with bits of grey. He took Harry inside the yellow curtains surrounding Neville's bed, and put a silencing charm around the enclosed area. Then he turned to Harry, a grave expression flashing across his kind, old face.

"You are Mr. Potter, right?" he asked, his eyes doing the familiar flick up to Harry's forehead.

"Yes, " he answered through gritted teeth. "But will-- will he make it?" Harry gestured with his head over to the unconscious form lying on the bed.

The Healer looked over at Neville with a sigh. "I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything anymore. Death Eaters are coming up with lots of new curses, always faster than we can come up with new cures. This particular one looks complicated, but I am sure I have never seen it before. We may have to try some new things on him. Nothing too risky, I should think. I'll need his parents to sign a medical release contract first, can you contact them?"

Harry looked at the Healer in a daze. "His parents are here already."

"Oh, that's good, just go get them and--"

"No, you misunderstood me. They're patients here."

The Healer's face fell. He looked at the small medical form on the end of Neville's bed, looking for the last name. When he found it, his eyes immediately got wider. "Longbottom? The Longbottom? Oh dear, this creates a problem. A most terrible problem." The Healer wrung his hands together in a nervous fashion. Then he looked relieved. "He has a guardian though? A grandparent, no doubt?"

Had Dumbledore told the Healer nothing before Harry came? "Umm . . . she just died."

The Healer's face fell immediately. "Oh my, we are in a pickle now! We cannot operate on him, if he has no guardian or parent! In this case, he might not make it! Oh dear, what am I to do?" His brow was furrowed in frustration, and Harry could tell he was trying his hardest to think of a solution, but none came to mind.

"Well, I'll just have to talk this case over with my superiors. We'll have an answer in about a week."

"A week?!? He could be dead by then! We need to take action immediately!"

"Yes, but I cannot talk to the superiors until they get back from an important business trip in Venezuela."

"I don't care! You're just going to watch him die, while your 'Superiors' are in Venezuela, probably getting drunk off tequila! What is this world coming to?!? I am not going to let my friend die while you watch and wait, when something could be done!" Harry tore open the curtains and stomped out of the ward, slamming the heavy door behind him.

"Harry! Harry!" Ron and Hermione both shouted simultaneously. He did not stop. They both looked at each other, then proceeded to follow him out the door.

"Harry, please!" Hermione begged with him. He stopped and turned.

"They can't do anything! The Healer can't do anything until his 'Superiors' come back form a trip in Venezuela! It'll take a week, and Neville will be dead by then!" He sat down on the topmost step on the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have told him, or this would've never happened. Maybe I should just . . . become a hermit or something. Go away and never come back."

"No, Harry!" Hermione said firmly. He looked at her, surprised by her outburst. "Don't you see? You're the only person who can ultimately defeat Lord Voldem--"

Several paintings shouted out at the same time "DON'T!" Hermione glared at them for interrupting her.

"--ort." She continued, as if she hadn't even heard them. "If you go away, he will reign forever. If you go away, he has won."

Ron looked thoughtful. His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and he was biting his lip. Because it wasn't often that Ron actually thought, Hermione let him be. Soon enough, Ron looked up at Harry, a superior look crossing his face. "Harry? Why can't the Healer do anything?"

"Because Neville doesn't have a stupid guardian! He doesn't need one! Why can't they just do the operation?!? What is this world--?"

"Wait," Ron interrupted. "What about mum? Couldn't she help?"

Harry looked confused, but Hermione's eyes immediately lit up. "Ron, that's the best idea you've ever had!" She leant over and kissed him full on the lips, then got up and walked out of the stairwell. Ron had a look of permanent shock upon his face, and Harry was torn between shock at the fact that Hermione would ever do something so bold, and laughter at the look on Ron's face.

"She -- She kissed me." Ron's voice cracked, and he gave a small laugh, still looking shocked. "She really kissed me." He raised his hand to the spot where her lips had touched his in a dream-like manner.

"Ron, snap out of it! What do you mean, your mum could help?"

Ron looked at Harry, then shook himself out of his daze. "Umm, she could be his guardian for a while--that is until they found someone else more suitable or until Neville is of age. His parents used to be great friends of mine."

"I know," Harry said, staring at some random spot on a step. "Mine too."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked, suddenly intrigued.

"I saw a picture of all of them together. They were all in the Order of the Phoenix, the first time it was established. My parents were in it, your parents were in it, and so were Neville's. Sirius and Professor Lupin were in it too, as well as -- "

"As well as who, Harry?"

"Peter Pettigrew. He was standing next to my parents. I saw him, and-- and I felt like I wanted to tear the picture apart. Tear it into a million pieces, so that I would never have to see him again."

Ron looked at Harry, concerned. "You really don't like him, do you?"

"I hate him! I hate every inch of his body, his rat-like appearance. If-- If only I didn't let him live. Voldemort wouldn't be alive. And-- and Sirius would."

"Hey," Ron said, "don't beat yourself down! Harry--"

"Don't you see?!? It's all my fault! Everything always leads back to me! Why is it always my fault?"

Ron sighed and looked up, "I thought it might come to this."

Harry felt tears stinging his eyes, but for the first time, he didn't care. He didn't care if Ron thought he was a pansy, and he didn't care if anyone thought he was weak. People expected too much of him.

"Harry, this has got to stop. Hermione and I are concerned for your health. She actually agrees with me, for once. You're not eating. You're not drinking. You hardly ever write us. What happened to you?"

"What did Hermione turn you into? She worries too much, and now you do to."

Suddenly, Ron's eyes lit up as if he had just had some revelation. "Merlin! HERMIONE JUST KISSED ME!"

Harry smiled at Ron, who gave him back the goofiest grin he could muster. All of the sudden, the door to the stairwell flew open and hit Ron hard in the back of the head.

"OW! 'Mione!"

"Oh Ron, I'm so sorry! But come quick! Neville's coming to! Hurry!" She ran back towards the ward, Harry and Ron hot on her heels. The door to the ward flew open and hit Ron smack in the forehead. He shook his head, and then stopped suddenly, deciding that was a very bad idea. "Why me?" he moaned.

Mrs. Weasley came up and pulled Ron into a bone-crushing hug. "Oh dear, that was the most thoughtful thing, you could've ever thought of! My little Ronnikins, the genius! Of course I'll take care of Neville!"

"Quiet Molly, he's coming to!" Mr. Weasley walked closer to the bed. The yellow curtains that had previously closed Neville off from view were now drawn open. "Neville?"

Neville's eyes opened a bit, and then a shout rang out through the whole ward.

"Harry! Look out!"