Harry Potter and the Champion of Darkness

Chapter 1: Final Stretch Before Holiday

'Why don't you just stop it, Ron... what's brooding going to do for you?' thought Harry as he stared at his best friend from the doorway of the Gryffindor fifth year boys dorm.

Ron glared up at Harry with his emerald green eyes, and messy black hair. He had once been a strappingly, lanky boy with curly red hair and blue eyes, though as circumstances would have it, he had died.

Death apparently has many different levels of severity. While Ron's body lay decaying beneath his families yard, his soul remained active and very much alive and within another body; a body that was the near-perfect mirror image of Harry's. This was for the simple reason that Harry had created it with the pure intention of saving his friend; a simulacrum of himself that Ron's soul would not be able to reject.

The events that had led up to Ron's exodus from his own body were ponderous, but he was happy for the way things worked out. After Voldemort had mortally injured him, he was pleased to know that life went on. Harry's scar, in a display of mystery, had absorbed Ron's soul from his dying body after Harry had pressed his forehead against Ron's own, in an attempt to console his dying friend. Professor Dumbledore suggested that Harry's scar didn't save Ron's life; it had saved Harry's. Without Ron, Harry's life would have become meaningless, and for all intent and purpose, would have been over.

Now, Ron and Harry shared a unique connection; it was an interesting side effect of Harry's simulacrum, which Ron currently possessed. They could feel each others pain, see each others thoughts and looked totally identical, though Ron did not have Harry's scar atop his forehead.

Yet, their similarities ended there. While Harry wore black glasses, Ron made it a point to wear gold ones. Also, when not in school robes, Ron's simple attire consisting of the color maroon with a Mrs. Weasley patched R upon the front was rather distinctive indeed.

"Will you stop projecting your thoughts when we are this close?" snapped Ron out loud. "It's like sending an owl to the person next to you because you are too lazy to open your mouth!"

'Yeah, but you have to admit,' thought Harry. 'This is much more entertaining.'

At last, Ron smirked, resembling Harry's facial expression perfectly. 'I'll give you that.'

"So, anyway," said Harry, now speaking aloud. "Get your books. We have one last class before our freedom."

Ron rolled Harry's green eyes and stood up to his no longer impressive height, in fact, Harry's exact height. "Yeah, yeah... double potions. Forgive me if I don't light off the party poppers."

"Not like I'm looking forward to it," said Harry offhandedly. "But, at least we can talk in class now."

'True enough', thought Ron, and both boys smiled. "I'm still upset about this winter break though."

Harry shrugged in his usual indifferent sort of manner, as if to say that very little could ever get under his skin and stay there.

"Don't sweat it, Ron."

Ron had promised Harry that this winter, he would take him home to the Burrow for the first time. However, as it turned out, Bill was relocated from Gringotts Egypt to an island bank somewhere in the South Pacific. While it was no cause of complaint for Bill, it forced Ron to stay at school. His father and mother were going to visit him and could not afford to bring each of their children, which disappointed Ron greatly. Fred and George had decided to stay in their dorm, working on amazing new inventions for their joke shop, and made it clear that if Ron interrupted them, it would be at his own risk.

Ron sighed and looked to Harry. "Sometimes, it just feels like I am an extra, you know?"

Harry shrugged, and smiled at Ron with his radiant green eyes. "No, not really."

Before Ron spoke, Harry beat him to the punch. "Lets get going. Snape will drown us in detentions if we do not get there on time."

At last, Ron conceded. "Fine."

* * * * * * * * * * *

After arriving in their double block potions class, they sat down next to Hermione. To Harry's dismay, they were late by a few minutes. This seemed to elate Snape to no end.

"Well, leave it to the Potter twins to show up five minutes late," he said, smirking at Ron and Harry with a glint of malice in his boxy black eyes. "Let us start with five points from Gryffindor, and let us see how many the twins can loose today."

Harry and Ron both took their seats, flushing red with embarrassment. Hermione, who had already been seated, flashed both of them studious glances, reminding them that they did, indeed, screw up.

"We were discussing the Hedemis Potion before you decided to grace us with your company," continued Snape. "Why don't you elaborate upon the five uses of such a potion?"

Harry flushed red for a moment, wracking his brain. Apparently, he had just walked into the lesson while they were discussing this. Yet, Harry had done his potions homework late last night and the answer was just not coming to him.

"Er," began Harry, shifting nervously and drawing a laugh from the Slytherins. He fumbled through his homework, a scroll about two feet long, trying to find the answer to the question.

Alas, it was the one he had left blank.

"I... don't know, sir," mumbled Harry.

"I see one of the Potter twins has decided to start winter holiday a day early," said Snape with fake laboriousness. "What about you, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron lowered his emerald green eyes and adjusted his golden glasses. Apparently, he had left it blank as well.

"I don't know, sir."

Snape licked his thin lips savagely. It was a point of amazement that Snape never had any trouble distinguishing between them from the front of the class.

"It truly breaks my heart to take another ten points from Gryffindor."

'I'm sure,' thought Harry, though he did not vocalize his thoughts. Harry caught Draco Malfoy smirking out of the corner of his eye.

"Professor," said Draco putting up his hand. "Let me elaborate for our dear Mr. Potter, the five uses for a Hedemis Potion."

Snape smirked and glanced back to Draco. "By all means, Mr. Malfoy."

Harry had tuned both Draco and Snape out at that and glanced to the right of him. While it was a very subtle thing, but he saw Ron staring at Hermione, who was doing her best to take notes... however, whenever she looked over at Ron, she smiled. It was well known to Harry that the night that Harry had resurrected Ron into a new body, that Hermione and Ron had exchanged their second kisses... and third and so forth for several hours. It had been one of the most uncomfortable feelings of Harry's life, seeing as how he felt each one of Ron's emotions, however, there was no one present in the room save Neville Longbottom.

In a way, it was sort of scary.

For some reason, this fact they were a couple never bothered Harry. It seemed almost natural for Ron to be with Hermione; Harry saw it as a total relief, in fact. He was so sick of giving Ron pep talks. He just hoped that it would last.

"Very good, Malfoy," said Snape, after Draco had rattled off five useless uses for a useless potion. "Ten points to Slytherin."

Harry stared at Draco long and hard for a moment. Despite all they had been through together, it seemed that most things had reverted back to normal between Draco and Harry. While Draco and him had fought the fallen angel Narhassa together beneath the belly of Ben Nevis, it was simply impossible for Harry to embrace him with friendship. Draco would always be too sarcastic and snide for Harry to ever consider him more than an ally. He could never have a friend that was so unpleasant to be around. While it was true that they seemed to settle upon a mutual respect for each other, they were by no means companions.

An ally was not necessarily a friend.

And so, Harry contented himself with pretending to listen to Snape, and not giving Malfoy much more thought.

"Now," said Snape, his voice finally breaking through Harry's thought haze, "you will work in trios for this final step in the Hedemis Potion." He looked a bit sour on the next point. "Since the Hedemis Potion is one of the most complex concoctions you will be seeing this year, I will allow you to work with whomever you wish."

Harry and Ron could scarcely believe their ears. For the first time since they could remember, Snape was going to let them pick their partners.

Wasting no time, Ron, Harry and Hermione got together, as the class became alive with people moving two and fro, not questioning their good fortunes.

"I truly cannot believe you two," said Hermione sagely, with her chin in the air as the Potter twins sat down next to her. "Didn't do your homework again? You do know that the Hedemis Potion is going to be on our O.W.Ls."

Ron sighed and flicked his golden specs up and down. It seemed to Harry that he was not comfortable wearing them.

"According to you, everything is going to be on our O.W.Ls," said Ron with humored disdain.

"Well, anything could potentially show up," said Hermione defensively.

Harry smiled and decided to play the role of Switzerland in the potentially brewing Ron/Hermione fight. Now that they were formal with each other, it seemed the fights had increased from one a day to one an hour.

Yet, to Harry's mid surprised, Ron focused his attentions upon Hermione's cauldron. "Alright, so what were those five uses?" asked Ron.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Malfoy just said them!"

"Who listens to Malfoy?" countered Ron. "He could tell Snape the sky was green and he'd get twenty points for Slytherin for his 'astute perspective'."

"He's got a point, Hermione," said Harry with a smirk.

Harry chanced another glance to Draco, who was busy slapping Crabbe upside the head and pointing emphatically at some ginger spoors. Even though Lucius had renounced his son in light of his betrayal of Voldemort, Draco still remained fast friends with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, despite their parents' affiliations. Hermione had told Harry about Draco's talk in the cave, nearly a month ago, in which he had revealed how he had met Crabbe and Goyle, and about his certain motivations.

It seemed strange to think of the wiry, cold-hearted Slytherin as a dreamer beneath his well-maintained cover, but in a strange way, it seemed to suite him.

'Why do you think about him so often?' asked Ron's voice, within Harry's head.

Harry sighed and glared at Ron. 'I thought we agreed... no mind reading without permission!'

'Sorry,' said Ron defensively with his eyes. 'But, I saw the way you were staring at Malfoy... and, well bugger it Harry, I got scared and needed to see for myself if you were... you know...'

'Sod off,' snapped Harry, though the corner of his mouth split in a grin.

Hermione looked flustered as she stared between Ron and Harry. "Will you two stop with the telepathy? We need to start the Hedemis Potion!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

After Potions passed by with its usual agonizingly slow pace, they were finally freed of Snape's clutches. Thanks to Hermione, their Hedemis Potion (which the Potter twins finally found out was great for healing pimples, served as a great laxative, and also was known as one of the many ingredients for a youth potion) was flawless, much to Snape's disappointment. Though, that chagrin was short lived as Neville, Seamus and Dean's concoction blew up and splattered all over them...

"I cannot believe what it has done to me!" said Dean, looking over his now very white hands and staring at Seamus and Neville from across the table. "It... turned me white!"

Seamus and Neville both glared at him with a bit of a dour expression. Both boy's skins were now blazed deep ebony.

"And it turned us black!" exclaimed Seamus, without any regrets. It was clear to Harry that Seamus thought this was the most wicked thing next to canary creams.

They were all down for lunch at the fifth year section of the Gryffindor table. It was a cause of celebration for most of the students when the Great Hall shrunk back down again, and reverted to its four-table state, for now, House Narhassa was a thing of the past.

Harry was about to make a comment about Seamus' psychedelic looks, with his deep brown skin and sandy blonde hair, when Ron, who was sitting opposite of Harry, gazed beyond Harry and groaned audibly.

'Prat alert,' he thought. 'Behind you.'

Before Harry could speak, the sickening, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy cut though him like a very unwelcome knife in his gut.

"Well, aren't you three looking racy today?" he said, smirking at the three off-color Gryffindor boys.

As always, whenever he tried to take on more than one, Crabbe and Goyle flanked his sides like dutiful protectors, ready to jump in front of any bullet for their leader. They grunted and chortled with trollish laughter at Malfoy's comment.

"Malfoy," said Seamus, with a smirk crossing his face. "I believe there are rules against hazing and harassing students. I think your presence here will cost Slytherin five points."

Dean and Neville both laughed as Seamus calmly rubbed his prefect page with the palm of his hand.

Malfoy seemed completely undaunted. Ron and Hermione fixed Draco with indifferent looked, while Harry contented himself to just eat, deciding that Malfoy was not here for him today.

"Oh, no need to get bitter, Finnigan," said Malfoy calmly. "I just figured that, out of the goodness of my heart, I would let Mr. Longbottom here read today's copy of the Daily Prophet. I think he'll find it most stimulating."

With a flick of his wrist, he lightly tossed his copy of the Wizarding newspaper upon the table, nearly knocking over Hermione's juice.

"Hey!" she snapped, until her eyes lowered to the headline... and her jaw dropped. Harry also followed suite, as did the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors. Without looking to see any further reactions, Harry began to read.

* * * * * *

CONSEQUENCE OR COINCIDENCE?
The face behind the Attack of Hogwarts
Associated Press: Rita Skeeter

"Neville Longbottom, a good friend of my best friend Harry Potter, told me to leave the Common Room a moment before it blew up. I would have died if Harry didn't save me!" explains Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor fourth year student.

Consequence or coincidence, this reporter asks. Dear reader, you may be thinking to yourself now, "who is this Neville Longbottom? The name Longbottom sounds familiar."

For all the good reason should it strike a familiar tone. Neville Longbottom is the son of Frank Longbottom, potentially one of the greatest Aurors in our lifetime. So great was the sacrifice he made in the fight against You-Know-Who, that it cost him his sanity. Now, a shade of his former self, he and his wife Claries Longbottom remain committed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"[Neville] has always been tight lipped about his past," explains Dean Thomas, a close friend of Neville Longbottom. "I've always wondered, but I never asked."

Growing up without a father and mother was difficult for Neville Longbottom, and could have been responsible for his insanity and desire to inflict pain upon all those who care about him.

"He was always a bit off; a real product of poor upbringing, I must say," says Draco Malfoy, a fifth year Slytherin. "He really just cannot do the simplest things right. Who knew what limits he'd go to in order to get power and respect?"

Yet, another Slytherin has a unique theory about Neville Longbottom.

"It was a strong rumor that Neville Longbottom gave Sirius Black the Gryffindor Password and allowed him to make an attack on Harry Potter in his third year," says Cameron Trent, a fifth year Slytherin and friend of Draco Malfoy. "If he could do it once, why not do it again?"

When the Narhassa Wizards made their exodus to Ben Nevis, this reporter suggests that Longbottom may very well have been the one who tried to kill countless students in order to provide a distraction for the Narhassa students.

"He's one step shy of being a squib," says the Potions Master of Hogwarts, Severus Snape. "However, Mr. Longbottom has one talent in my class: figuring out creative ways to blow up the entire room."

Was Neville Longbottom's involvement in the tragedy at Hogwarts a consequence of his own actions, or a coincidence that he had no part of?

That, my reader, I leave up to you.

* * * * * *

Seamus and Dean both turned to Neville, with wide-eyed looks of outrage.

"You... it... isn't true, is it?" stammered Dean.

"... You... didn't do that... did you?" said Seamus in a shaking voice at the same time.

Harry studied Neville long and hard. It was known to Harry that Neville's involvement with the destruction of the Gryffindor Common Room was more than a coincidence. He had been bribed by Redetyor to open the fireplace for him. Harry had never quite allowed himself to forgive Neville for betraying them all like that, however, he had forgotten about it in light of their victory that night.

Neville's eyes watered up uncontrollably and his face puffed up with morbid shame. Yet, before he could reply, the tell tale flutter of wings sounded all above the hall.

"Oh goodie," says Draco, with a wry smile. "Mail time... Longbottom, I suggest you assume the position."

That smile on Malfoy's face reminded Harry why he would never be his friend. That shrill sort of energy that manifested within Draco whenever he was subjected to another person's misery repulsed Harry to no end. He looked back to Neville, who snapped his head up fearfully, with a trembling lip.

"Oh lord on high," said Dean with astonishment. "Duck!"

Without needing prompting, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Dean all dove under the table as a fleet owls rushed through the windows; half of them glared at Neville with their own fiery passion, as if they knew their enemy and were prepared to engage. They commenced their bombing run, dropping red letter after red letter upon Neville's head.

Even Draco seemed horrified by the sheer quantity of howlers that were stacking up all around Neville, and promptly dove under the Hufflepuff table, followed by his two very fat cronies.

Harry covered his ears and prayed for a quick end.

Every window in the great hall shattered as fifty screaming voices emitted at once, roaring completely incomprehensibly. Harry clutched his ears as the deafening sound sent stakes of pain shooting through his head.

Finally, after a minute, it ended. Every student in the great hall, save Neville, had dove for cover under their tables and were currently running their pinkies in their ears in an attempt to regain their hearing.

Neville stood up and then, as if finally recovering his senses, ran out the door of the Great Hall.

Draco stood up from under the Hufflepuff table and smirked at a glare that Hannah Abbot gave him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Abbot... the view wasn't THAT great," said Draco in her direction, answering her unspoken concern and drawing an angry look from Justin and most of the other Hufflepuffs.

Ron, Harry and Hermione all exchanged worried glances. Only Harry knew the complete truth from a dream, thought of so long ago. Neville had never meant to hurt anyone; he was just doing a favor for a friend. While exceedingly naïve to believe him, he had made Redetyor promise he wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Harry," said Seamus, his ebony skin combined with a strange red blush about his face further complicated his looks to the point of being an eyesore, "is all that true?"

Harry could not lie; he would not lie.

"Yes," said Harry softly. "It's true." Friendship and loyalty were always such concepts of mystery, even to someone who knew them as well as Harry did. He could not help but feel he was betraying Neville, despite Neville's minor betrayal of him. Deep down, Harry knew he shouldn't feel guilty about Neville's fate, but he could not help it.

"That backstabbing, no good prat!" snapped Dean, his very pallid cheeks flushing with anger. "I'm going to kill him!"

The hall had resumed some natural order, as the seventh year prefects finished fixing the windows with repairing charms. All of the fifth year boys took their seats again.

"Don't judge him too harshly," said Harry with a sigh. "He made a mistake, a huge and costly one, but a mistake none the less."

Ron snorted. "Harry, he almost killed us all! Do you forget the tower nearly collapsing on our heads?"

"No, I haven't," said Harry, somewhat defeated.

Ron flicked his golden glasses. "I think Neville deserved what happened and more."

Hermione, who had been quiet all this time, finally decided to speak. "That Skeeter woman was after me all last year. I feel sorry that Neville has her on his case, regardless of his crime."

At that, some tension broke around the table as Seamus managed a laugh. "I suppose time in her limelight is time that would be more comfortably spent in Azkaban."

"True enough," concurred Dean.

Harry folded his hands upon the table and decided now would be a great time to resume his lunch. Yet, as he reached for his fork in order to spare his pork chops, he noticed a letter lying within his dish. An owl must have delivered it to him during the ensuing chaos of the assault on Neville.

Ron snapped his head over to Harry, as if sensing his own confusion (and probably as a result of that sense)

"What's that?" asked Ron, drawing Hermione, Dean and Seamus' attention.

Harry picked up the envelope curiously, examining the address carefully.

*

Harry Potter
Hogwarts, Scotland

*

Harry arched a brow as he noticed a postage stamp upon the envelope for thirty three cents.

"What's a cent?" asked Ron, scratching his head.

"It's American currency," explained Hermione. "That could only mean..."

Harry laughed out loud. Thinking that owl post needed postage payment was a mistake that only a Muggle would make...

"How the heck did Sean get a letter here without Hedwig being there?"

Seamus and Dean both arched their brows at the mention of Gryffindor's first Muggle student, Sean Camaradi. During the six months or so when the Wizards of Narhassa had their energy rekindled as a result of the awakening of the fallen angel, Sean and over one hundred other students had been invited to Hogwarts to learn about their gifts.

Out of nearly one hundred students, Sean was the only one to have been sorted into Gryffindor. In fact, only three were sorted into any house other than Narhassa. One was Seth Redetyor, the simulacrum of Voldemort.

And the third was Harry's romantic attachment of nearly five months, Jessica Rennings... or also known as Carle Spencer. As it turned out, she was the daughter of a Deatheater and not even a Narhassa wizard at all. She was sent to spy on Harry and win his trust, in case she ever needed to use him.

Unlike the other two, however, Sean and Harry had forged a lasting friendship. Hermione and him had parted on reasonable terms, however, Sean had not desired her friendship... especially after falling in love with her. The pain would be too great, he had said.

Ron on the other hand, never liked Sean for reasons Harry understood well. He could not blame Ron, for he sincerely tried to like him. However, anyone who was dating Hermione that wasn't him was no friend to be had by the formerly redheaded boy.

And so, it was with an eager hand that Harry ripped open the letter and unfolded it.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Ron as he beheld the letter. "I didn't know he worked for a newspaper company!"

Harry and Hermione both smiled and glanced over to Ron. "He typed it, Ron. He probably has a computer at home."

"A cohm-poo-ter?" asked Ron, arching his brow.

Hermione laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "You are hopeless."

Harry laughed at Ron, never quite getting used to his complete helplessness when it came to the simplest, most common devices that Muggles used. He keenly remembered Ron's experiment with the telephone when he tried to call Harry at home in his third year.

Ron blushed and he slung his arm around Hermione. "You hush up, bookworm."

Hermione glared at Ron, but allowed him to keep his arm around her. It was clear to Harry that Hermione despised extended shows of public affection. She then looked across the Harry with interest. "Go on, Harry. Read it!"

Harry smirked and began reading aloud.

* * * * * *

Harry,

What's up man? Alright, I know you are wondering how I got an owl to Hogwarts... trust me, it's a long story. I haven't heard from you in awhile. How's the old gang doing?

Anyway, I've got an interesting question for ya. My mother feels very bad that I'm mute once again, (Harry sighed upon reading that. While nearly every moment that Harry knew him, Sean was capable of normal speech, all of his previous fourteen odd years of life were spent in total silence) and so she has taken to spoiling me. I told her the one thing that would make me REALLY happy was if you and Hermione could come and visit this winter break.

We have spare room for you at the house, and we'd have so much fun. I'll teach you how to surf and we can shoot down to Disneyland for the last day! We live only five minutes of the beach and, if you haven't seen a California sunset, you are letting the best part of life pass you by.

Reply with Hedwig if you are interested... and I know you have ways of doing that fireplace travel thing, so we'll leave our fireplace open.

Hope to see you soon!

Yours Truly,
Sean

* * * * * *

Harry suddenly felt an amazingly powerful wave of depression pass over his body. Instinctively, he looked up to Ron, who seemed so shattered with disappointment that it hurt Harry inside.

Their empathic bond was one of the strongest side effects of their merging.

"You aren't going to go, right Harry?" snapped Ron, staring at him with anguish.

Harry winced slightly, only now realizing that Ron's name was not part of "you and Hermione" in the letter. Sean and Ron had just about come to blows once and had very rarely shown any degree of warmth to each other. It was more than understandable why Sean would deliberately not invite him.

Hermione and Harry both looked extremely conflicted.

"Well..." trailed off Harry. "I mean... Sean is a friend and I probably won't get a chance..."

"Fine," snapped Ron, narrowing his eyes coldly. "What a happy Christmas this will be: all by myself in the Gryffindor Common Room. Thanks for the present, Harry!"

"Ron..." trailed off Harry, finding it hard to breathe as a result of all of Ron's anger squelching the breathe out of his lungs. It was a tangible force between them that constricted Harry, and taxed his soul.

It was a side-effect of their bond... all the pain Ron felt from this feeling of betrayal was manifesting as physical discomfort within his chest.

Ron slammed his hands on the table and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Hermione both in a state of depression.

Harry glanced from Ron's fleeing back, to Hermione. "Please chase him," he said. "He's your boyfriend."

Hermione looked at Harry cynically, with her 'this-isn't-just-MY-problem' look. "He is your clone."

Sighing and reaching an unspoken agreement, both Harry and Hermione stood up and followed after Ron.

* * * * * *

Hogwarts had once again outdone itself in preparation for Christmas. Within the main hall, stretching to the entrance of the school, an icy train set well over fifty feet long and standing a foot off the ground ran around the entire perimeter of the room, blowing off shards of red and green crystals instead of smoke. The floor appeared a glossy pale blue, as if the entire ground had been coated with thick, but non-slippery ice.

Harry and Hermione managed to intercept Ron halfway to the entrance of the school.

"Ron..." began Harry, when he was suddenly and rudely interrupted by a very profound thud on the back of his head... and soaking water.

"TA HA HA HA HA," cackled a voice from above him, as Hermione and Ron both tensed up, under a bombardment of water balloons.

And then a wicked, teasing voice chided from above them.

"Deck the fools with pranks aplenty! Ta HA HA HA HAAA, Ta HA HA HAAAA!"

"Tis the reason you are soaking, TA HA HA HA HAAAAA, TA HA HA HAAAA!"

"Damn you, Peeves!" cursed Ron, as he grabbed a fallen, unbroken water balloon, and hummed it at the poltergeist.

"Oooh," cackled Peeves as he flew to the side, dodging the shot. "Careful, ickle Ronnikens, or I'll tell Snapekins where you and Hermione have been exchanging snogikins!"

Ron's soaking face flushed scarlet in a way Harry's face could never... that was one trait Ron would always possess that Harry would not, regardless of a mirror image look.

"Shut up, or I'll tell the Bloody Baron that you've been harassing little children again!" fired back Ron.

Peeves cackled madly and flipped over in the air three times and zoomed into the ceiling, passing through it with what sounded like the farting sound of a balloon loosing its air.

Ron scowled and pushed his sodden black bangs out of his eyes and looked at Harry and Hermione, with an aloof glower... another face that Ron and only Ron would be able to place upon Harry's face.

"I'm still not talking to you two," he said weakly.

Harry never thought he'd be grateful to Peeves in his life, but the poltergeist had taken a lot of serious drama from this situation, and worn Ron out. Harry felt the pressure in his soul subsiding, for Ron was clearly no longer as angry with him as he was a moment a go.

"Ron," said Harry, taking a deep breathe. This was his one chance to set things straight before they were thinking of going. "I know Sean has a soft spot for you. Maybe you didn't remember, but he stayed at Hogwarts to make sure you were resurrected into your new body."

"Right," nodded Hermione, seeing the direction Harry was going with this. "And he gave you his spot on the Quiddich team, remember?"

Ron frowned and looked at his shoes. "Then," he replied meekly, "why didn't he invite me too?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a pair of looks. It was obvious to Harry, who was keen at picking up on other people's emotions and feelings.

"I think," began Harry, scratching his chin a bit awkwardly, "it is for the same human emotion that you hated for all this time."

Ron looked at Harry dubiously. "And what would that be?"

"Jealousy?" suggested Hermione. She then looked to Harry, who picked up the slack more then readily. Harry knew that the next part, coming out of her mouth, would sound very conceited... even Malfoyish.

"He's probably jealous for the same reasons you were," explained Harry awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "When he was going out with the girl you loved."

Ron seemed unconvinced, though Harry could feel a bit of conflict within Ron, which was a good thing.

"Tell you what," said Hermione, as Harry tagged her into the ring with his eyes. "We will ask Sean if you can come when we get there. If he says yes, Harry will send Hedwig to you, and you can Floo over as well."

Ron fixed Hermione with his verdant eyes, drawing Harry's face into a dubious scowl. "And when he says no?"

Harry could feel himself loosing his patience. Ron's constant negative attitude was beginning to grate on him.

"He won't say no, because he's a really nice guy," snapped Harry. "When he hears that you'll have to spend Christmas alone, he'll agree and let you through."

Apparently, this was enough to play out Ron's anger at Harry and Hermione specifically. Upon feeling Ron's good will return, he felt a bit better himself.

"And hey," said Harry with a smile. "If for some reason he doesn't come around, we'll see into Flooing over to Hogwarts for Christmas Morning."

Hermione looked sideways to Harry, with an impressed look. It was clear that not even Hermione had thought of that.

"Right!" exclaimed Hermione. "See, we'll spend Christmas together, one way or another."

At last, Ron finally smiled. "Ok, I'll hold you to that."

With no tension between the three friends anymore, they made their way out of the main hallway. While their clothing was dampened, their spirits were soaring.

* * * * * *

Never had Harry felt such splitting, terrible pain.

He was dying. That was the only possible explanation for pain that great. He was incapable of thinking, incapable of breathing. He forget his name, who he was, as he felt himself wreathing in agony. Screams came unbidden to his mouth.

Pain... so much pain...

A voice wafted into his head, but he could not make out the words... he could not remember language or letters... only pain...

So much pain.

He had felt the Cruciatus Curse; he was no stranger to total pain. But, this was different. Not only was his body alight with fire, but he felt as though his soul was being drawn and quartered as well. The being that was Harry was being tormented and he could do nothing...

Pain... so much pain...

And then, it was gone. Harry opened his waterlogged eyes, for tears had been streaming down his cheeks. He could clearly make out a person hovering above him.

And before the present returned to him, the past did as well.

After replying to Sean, Hermione, Ron and Harry said good-bye to Seamus and Dean, who left shortly after they returned from the Owlery. They had enjoyed a simple dinner, the whole hall empty save for Draco, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a handful of other students from each house. Much to Ron's disgust, (and even to Harry's dismay) Hermione had invited Draco over to eat with them.

The night had passed with a few games of chess (Ron continued to reign as undefeated, never once being beaten by Harry or Hermione) and Exploding Snap, before Ron and Harry returned to the boy's dorm, and Hermione to the girl's dorm.

And now, Harry was on the ground, with Hermione standing over him, looking utterly horrified. It was clear that his screams must have been so long and hard to have brought her from the other side of the tower, to his aid.

Harry wiped the tears out of his eyes and licked the tears off his lips. He tasted a bitter, chalky taste within his mouth in place of what he expected to be simply salty water. Without delay, he brought his hand into his line of sight.

It was covered with blood.

More things became clear to him. Hermione was not just hovering over him... she was holding something against his head, something very hot and very moist.

He finally found his tongue. "Herm..." he began weakly.

"What happened, Harry, what happened?" demanded Hermione, looking very, very pale. "I came in here... and saw you bleeding all over the floor. What happened to you and Ron?"

Harry wiped the moisture from his face, and came to the icy realization that he was soaked with blood. All around his head and back of his neck, he felt liquid staining the floor beneath him.

He felt frail, a pressing sort of weakness.

"Ron?" murmured Harry weakly.

"He's unconscious on the floor next to you!" she squealed in terror.

He must have felt the pain as well... deduced Harry.

"You lost so much blood," whispered Hermione queasily. "What... happened?"

Harry rasped weakly, trying to sit up. Hermione held him in place, however. "Voldemort..." said Harry, the words sent out of his mouth with astounding effort.

"Your scar is gushing blood," replied Hermione, with a rushed, panicky voice. "What's going on, Harry? Is he nearby? Is he trying to get you again."

Harry shook his head. He knew all too well what happened when Voldemort was close by. There was blinding, searing pain... but nothing like this. No, this was something else.

"No," said Harry faintly. "That... it's not that."

"Then, what?" cried Hermione as she dabbed his forehead.

Harry moaned slightly and parted his lips to speak again. "I think... Voldemort is dead."