Sectumsempra: The New Beginning

Disclaimer: This story is my idea, but the first part is straight from HBP. I borrowed it for story purposes, nothing else. It's the only actual story text used in this fic.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

"No-" gasped Harry.

Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.

"No- I didn't-"

Harry did not know what he was saying; he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood.

Scenario: Myrtle did not raise the alarm after Sectumsempra, for whatever reason. What would Harry do? What course of events would develop?

*****

Harry looked wildly up at Myrtle, who had just opened her mouth, ready to scream from the looks of it.

"Myrtle!" Harry gasped. "Myrtle, please! Listen to me! Don't scream, please!" Harry looked at the ghost with desperation in his eyes. His mind scrambled around for an idea, any idea, on how to fix what he had done. And then it came to him- Hermione. She would know how to fix this.

"Myrtle! I need you to do something for me. I need you to please watch Malfoy while I go and-"

"Go!" Myrtle cried. "After what you did, you're just going to leave him here?!" She opened her mouth again, a determined look in her eye.

"NO! Myrtle, no, it's not like that! I'm not leaving! I'm going to get help! I just need you to watch him and make sure no one comes in while I run and get help! Can you do that for me, Myrtle? Please?"

No sooner had Myrtle uttered an assent than Harry was off, dashing through the bathroom doorway, down the corridor and up the staircase. He rounded the steps as fast as he could go, up to the Gryffindor Common Room, where he burst through, wildly scanning the room for Hermione. His heart sank when he saw she wasn't there. Ignoring the curious looks he cast around for an idea to where Hermione could be. Then he remembered- Professor Vector! That's where she had gone, to check about her essay. He wheeled around, dashed back through the portrait hole- and ran smack into Hermione.

"Hermione! Come with me, now, please! Need you to-" Harry stammered as he grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her off down the corridor.

"Harry, what on earth," Hermione started.

"No time! Come on, Hermione, please!" Harry yelled.

Hermione finally sensed the urgency in Harry's voice and began running after him, looking confused. Harry led her down the stairs, down the corridor and to the bathroom. He paused outside the door to see if Myrtle had done what she said she would. He heard nothing except her quiet sobbing and cautiously eased open the door.

Myrtle stood over Malfoy, who wasn't moving. His eyes were closed, and Harry thought for a second that he was dead. His heart constricted, and he stared in horror at what he had done. Then he saw a gradual, tiny rise in Malfoy's chest. Relief spread through Harry and he made his way to Malfoy. Harry saw that he had passed out while he had gone for help, which was a small blessing. It would make healing him that much easier.

Hermione, on the other hand, stood transfixed, staring at Malfoy, unable to believe her eyes.

"Harry, what happened? There's so much blood..." her voice trailed off as she hurried to Harry's side. She knelt down by Malfoy and put a hand to his blood-soaked head, then ran it down to the wound in his chest.

"Later, Hermione. Can you help him?" Harry asked, his voice anxious and worried.

"I don't know, Harry... this is very powerful Dark magic. Whoever did this...."she stopped and looked up at Harry. "How did this happen?"

"I said later, Hermione," Harry grated out. "Now please, if you can fix him, do it!"

Hermione rolled up her sleeves and waved her wand over Malfoy's chest. Slowly at first, she said the incantation, waving her wand as she moved over his head and down his chest. Harry saw with relief that the wounds appeared to be stitching themselves together. Malfoy still looked in bad shape, and Harry's worry, though diminished, didn't completely disappear.

"He needs the Hospital Wing, Harry. I've done the best I can, but he still needs a Blood Replenishing potion, and Madam Pomfrey will have to look over what I've done as well." Hermione stood up, gesturing to Malfoy.

"I know. Can you help me lift him?" Harry asked. He knelt beside Malfoy and lifted his limp right arm over his back, trying to heave Malfoy's body up off the floor. Hermione helped support him when Harry got him up, pulling his left arm over her shoulder to hold him up. Carrying Malfoy between them, they carried him to the door of the bathroom. Supporting Malfoy with his weight, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered. As soon as the map had spread out, he checked quickly to see if anyone was en route to the Hospital Wing. To his relief, everyone seemed to be at dinner. Closing the map and stuffing it back in his pocket, he heaved Malfoy up a bit more and said to Hermione, "Let's go."

They carefully made their way down the corridor to the stairs. Luckily the Hospital Wing was only a floor up. They moved as quickly as possible without jouncing Malfoy too much. He was still unconscious, and though thin, was by no means light. It took all their energy to get him to the Hospital Wing, and when they finally arrived, Harry threw open the door and immediately started calling out, "Madam Pomfrey! Please, we need you! Hurry!"

Madam Pomfrey came hurrying up to the door, looking annoyed. "Mr. Potter, what on earth- oh my goodness!" she exclaimed when she saw Malfoy. Her irritation vanished as she directed Harry and Hermione to the nearest bed, where they carefully heaved Malfoy on it.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger! What happened here? Who did this?"

"I-I... I don't know, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione stammered. "I think Harry found him like this. He was in the bathroom on the second floor. I fixed him up as best I could, but I don't know if I did the incantation exactly right. His wounds stitched themselves up a bit, but..." Hermione's voice trembled. "I think it was really Dark magic. I never heard of a spell doing something like this before."

Harry said nothing, guilt and shame consuming him. He couldn't bring himself to admit that he was the one who had used the spell. Mistake or not, how could the Prince even have copied that awful spell down? If Harry had known he would never have used it. Malfoy or not, no one deserved that.

Madam Pomfrey was administering a Blood Replenishing potion to Malfoy, rubbing his Adam's apple to force the liquid down his throat. Malfoy was naturally pale, but with as much blood as he had lost, he looked ghostly white, even for Malfoy.

Madam Pomfrey finished with the Blood Replenishing potion and began unbuttoning Malfoy's shirt. She pushed the flaps away to reveal his chest, which was stained maroon with the dried blood. Hermione's mending, though helping, had not completely healed the wounds, and there was still gashes across Malfoy's pale chest. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and chanted a spell that sounded almost like a song to Harry's ears, and he watched as the remaining wounds sewed themselves together. She repeated the process on the small cuts remaining on Malfoy's head, and then turned to Harry and Hermione.

"That's all that can be done now. The Replenishing potion will have to work its way through his system, and that can take a while. I've healed his wounds as best I can, though I must say," and she looked almost approvingly at Hermione, "that if Miss Granger hadn't done what she had, well..." Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Well, let's just say it would almost certainly have been too late to save him. As it is, I'm afraid Mr. Malfoy will be here for quite some time. I shall certainly be reporting your work to Professor Dumbledore, Miss Granger, and commending both of you for getting him here. Now, if you please, Mr. Malfoy needs rest. He will probably be unconscious for quite some time. It's time you be heading to your Common Room. Good night."

Harry found himself being hustled out of the Hospital Wing, Hermione beside him, and the door was closed firmly behind them. Shaking, they made their way back to Gryffindor tower. Hermione was silent, but kept shooting Harry furtive glances. She opened her mouth a couple of times, no doubt to ask what Harry knew, but closed it at Harry's sharp look each time.

Finally, they arrived at the Common Room. It was about half full, as the hour for bedtime was drawing close. Harry and Hermione snagged chairs by the fire and sat together, deep in thought. They were so preoccupied they didn't notice Ron come in and plop into the chair nearest Harry until he said, in what seemed a loud voice, "Oi! Wake up, you two!"

Harry started, tensing. He relaxed a bit when he saw it was Ron. "Hey, Ron," Harry said tonelessly. Hermione didn't even bother with a greeting, just chewed her lip, staring hard at Harry.

Ron looked from one to the other. "Did something happen? You both look like someone just died!" he exclaimed, nudging Harry with his elbow.

"Someone did almost die, Ron," Hermione said in a brittle voice. She hadn't taken her eyes off Harry for a second. Now she shook herself awake and sat up a bit. "Okay, Harry. It's time. Tell me what really happened in that bathroom."

Sighing, Harry knew he could no longer avoid the issue. He started with how he had been going down to dinner and then seen Malfoy in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle and finished, for Ron's benefit, taking Malfoy to the Hospital Wing. When he was finished, Hermione looked beyond shocked. Ron, though, looked truly shaken.

"And you got that from the Prince?" he asked, looking as though he didn't believe it.

Harry nodded miserably. "I didn't know that's what would happen. I've never used that one before. Obviously. I just can't believe the Prince wrote down a spell like that."

"I told you to get rid of that book, didn't I, Harry?" asked Hermione smugly. "And now it's gone and landed Malfoy in the Hospital for who knows how long-"

"It's not like I intentionally tried to kill him, Hermione! He tried to Crucio me, or didn't you hear that part?" Harry retorted angrily. "Besides... maybe the Prince just copied it from somewhere else," he added hopefully. But Hermione was shaking her head.

"No, Harry. In every book I've ever read in the library, I've never come across a spell as horrible as that one. Not even in the Restricted Section, and you know what kind of awful stuff is there," she said, shuddering.

Ron looked from one to the other, as though unable to believe what he was hearing. "It's just lucky that Myrtle didn't scream her fool head off. Can you imagine what would have happened if a teacher had walked in? If Snape had walked in?"

"I don't even want to think about it," Harry answered. He sat deep in thought for a moment. "I don't think you're right about the book or the Prince, Hermione. But believe me when I say I definitely won't just try a spell from that book any more."

Hermione looked beside herself. "Harry, how can you want to keep that book? You're lucky we got him to Madam Pomfrey in time, or he would have bled to death! What other horrible spells like that are hidden in that awful thing?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't found anything else like that, Hermione, I promise! Just the Muffliato spell and a couple nonverbal ones that don't do any harm. You think if there was the possibility that the book was cursed or...or possessed, I'd still want to keep it? I do feel really badly about what happened to Malfoy. It was an accident. If it makes you feel better, I plan to go see how he's doing first thing tomorrow. But please, Hermione. Don't say anything to anybody. I don't want to get Gryffindor or you in trouble for a mistake I made, okay?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking worried. "But what about Malfoy? You honestly think he's going to keep quiet on this when he wakes up? You know as well as I do that he's going to run and tell Snape the minute he can do it."

"So I'll talk to him," Harry said desperately. "Make him understand that I wasn't trying to curse him, just protect myself. Surely even Malfoy can understand that? Besides," and here Harry looked grim. "If he won't listen to reason... I can always point out that he tried to use an Unforgivable on me first."

"Yeah, Hermione," Ron agreed. "Malfoy tried to curse Harry first. It could have been self defense. Besides, the fact that he used an Unforgivable in school has to say something, right?"

"I can't believe what I'm hearing! You can't really tell me you expect to keep him quiet by reminding him of that, can you? You know he'll just say you hexed him first, Harry!"

Harry thought of how Malfoy had been crying. "I don't think so, Hermione. He was crying, remember? I don't think he'll want that to get out, do you?"

"Excellent!" Ron cried. "Was he really?"

"Ron," Harry said. "I don't want this getting out. Not the curses, or the fact that he was crying. You think if you tell everyone that, he'll be more agreeable with me?"

"Oh, right," Ron said, looking disappointed. Then he brightened again. "But do you think I can go with you tomorrow to see him? I can give you extra backup!"

"I don't know, Ron. If he's even awake... and if he'll even agree to see me. It all depends. If he's not awake I'll just have to ask Madam Pomfrey how he's coming along."

Harry yawned. "Look, I'm tired. I'm going on up."

"Yeah, I'll join you, mate," Ron said, standing up and stretching.

"Fine. Harry, I still want to talk about this more tomorrow. Especially about that book," Hermione said determinedly.

"Fine, Hermione. We'll talk more tomorrow, then, okay? And no matter what you think, I do feel bad about Malfoy and I don't think the Prince invented that spell. There's nothing wrong with that book." Harry said stubbornly.

Hermione sighed. "Tomorrow, Harry. Good night."

They climbed the staircase, each of them thinking their own private thoughts. After an absentminded "Good night," Ron and Harry made their way to the boys' dorm and fell into bed. Harry lay awake long after Ron began snoring, unable to get what had happened that day out of his mind.

Tomorrow. I'll deal with it tomorrow, he thought, finally drifting off to sleep.