Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Stream of Consciousness	By : AngelNarcissa90 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. Neither do I profit from the pleasurable experience of writing. Warning: Rape and Abuse Featured.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
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It All Started with a Potion
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Ron’s stomach turned. It was twisted and knotted and there was no undoing the harm that had been done. It was over. His life was over. His friendship to the hero who’d saved the world was all over because he hadn’t listened.
The world was truly not right side up. Looney was pinned against the far wall of the corridor. Her eyes were closed and a trickle of blood was making its way down the side of her face. Her wand was splintered on the ground a few feet away. A skirmish had occurred and from the looks of it, a powerful one. Ron wouldn’t have thought a joint inter-house effort could have been pulled off with all the house rivalries, but seeing three Ravenclaws, four Slytherin, two Hufflepuff and five Gryffindors together turned him into a believer. The house colors seemed to glow in the darkness of the magic spilt here.
Ron didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Hermione who was casting a Patronius calling for the immediate presence of the headmaster. It would get there faster than mere legs could carry either of them. The sight of the blood agitated Ron’s senses. His wand was no longer trained on the devious students, some of whom he and Hermione had already stunned.
There hadn’t been an obvious leader amongst them, but Ron was ashamed to see his sister sitting on the floor panting. He knew from the expression on her face that she hadn’t thought that their prank would go as far as it had. Ron stepped carefully around the first few droplets of blood and made his way to the encircled pentagram on floor. From the looks of it, it was etched into the stone. Only a powerful spell could do that.
Ron stopped just short of toeing the circle, Draco lay wheezing inside one of the pentagram’s legs. The star was large enough to encase both Draco and Harry. Slowly, Ron allowed his eyes to travel past Draco’s fluttering form to that of Harry’s. Harry lay in the center of the pentagram. His body was strewn across two of the star’s legs. What looked like a dagger was protruding through his wand hand which lay next to his head. From the residue of heavy magic in the air, Ron knew he couldn’t reach Harry to feel for a pulse.
“What has happened?” Headmaster Morvick’s deep voice echoed around them. Ron continued to stare at his best mate. Harry’s chest was slowly rising and falling at inconsistent intervals. And then a shimmer rose from his chest. It was like watching a soul rise from a dead man’s body. Was that Harry’s soul? Ron wondered to himself. When finger’s griped his arm, Ron took a step back, Hermione was at his side.
Ron didn’t have to turn round to know that Morvick was taking in the scene before him. In one sweeping gaze the students and the victims could be seen. The shimmering intensified and Ron was forced to close his eyes at the climax of what felt like an indoor sunrise. Ron coughed as something similar to dust invaded his eyes, nose and mouth. He raised his wand to clear the debris so that he could see unobstructed.
“Don’t,” Morvick commanded. Ron forced himself not to shudder and raised his hand to shield his eyes as he opened them. A strange wind was blowing around the corridor as Morvick slowly assessed the situation. He toed the border of the pentagram.
“From the looks of it, the curse was cast just a few minutes ago.” Morvick turned to Ron and Hermione, “Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall are on their way. Please help Miss Lovegood.” Ron slowly side stepped toward the blond witch. Hermione was a bit faster in reaching Luna.
It was magic that pinned her to the wall. Ron wasn’t sure what spell, but it only took a few waves of Hermione’s wand to release her. Ron supported the sleeping form as he gently laid her on the stone floor.
Hermione’s hand brushed Luna’s blond hair from the long single wound. “It appears superficial.” A faint blue glow burst from the tip of Hermione’s wand and traveled from the head of Luna’s body to her toes.
Hermione sat back on her heels, “Other than a concussion, she’ll be fine. Her wand on the other hand,” Hermione trailed off at the sight of the ruined wood. Ron sighed. Luna would have to find another to bond with.
Ron turned to the sound of rushed footfalls echoing down the corridor. The hushed whispers from the fourteen deviant youths behind him fell silent.
A small gasp was the first sound announcing the deputy headmistress’s arrival. Ron watched in shame as Professor McGonagall ordered Ginny and the others to Filch’s office. He had a feeling that the other heads of houses would meet them there to met out a fitting punishment. What punishment was befitting of this? Standing quickly, Ron jogged after his fellow students. He wanted to make sure that they all made it to Filch’s without incident. No one was going to owl their parents without permission nor would anyone sneak off to their dorms.
Ron liked to believe that he never expected that the disgust of his peers—from his own house no less—would chose dark magic to accomplish their goals.

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Hermione didn’t need an explanation from Ron. His face had been pale and stricken. She knew that it wouldn’t remain so for very long. Reigning in the feeling of guilt that threatened to overwhelm her, Hermione focused on Professor Morvick’s words.
“…No I don’t believe they meant any real harm. I think this is a practical joke gone awry.”
“You can’t be serious. The past few months, the students here have become quite hostile to Mr. Malfoy and to Mr. Potter for his protective nature towards him. This was an attempt on Harry’s life!” Professor McGonagall turned away to compose herself. Her voice had been rising with each passing word.
Hermione stilled herself. She wanted to hear everything. It wasn’t a secret in the castle that Minerva had been asked to stand in as the next Head of Hogwarts only to turn the position down. Hermione knew that Kingsley had personally asked the old professor in the hopes of making Hogwarts feel as safe to the students, parents and teachers of Hogwarts as it had been before Dumbledore’s untimely death. The change in headmaster, the end of the war and fear most wizards and witches had towards the dark arts still lingered. The presence of the new headmaster truly did nothing to assuage them. The relationship between herself and the newest headmaster was tenuous at best.
Hermione had happily buried herself in her studies and in her new peaceful life. She hadn’t tried in any way to disturb the new atmosphere of Hogwarts. She had been living the life of a real teenage witch about to embark on life after schooling. It wasn’t fair that trouble seemed to follow Harry everywhere. The trouble which hurt Harry always invariably touched herself, Ron or in this case Luna.
Hermione bit back the anger she felt towards Harry for his natural sense of justice and his instinctual need to instigate. Malfoy’s problems had been his own. She didn’t mean to approach the subject completely heartless, but Malfoy had never asked for help. He hadn’t asked Harry, but Harry had intervened anyway. Hermione covered her eyes as silence enveloped them all. What would have happened if Harry hadn’t been there to protect Malfoy?
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Draco opened his eyes and groaned. “Please, don’t move.” Draco blinked. He was still on the floor. The voice that spoke to him was definitely male, but not his lover Zabini. Draco’s leg was on fire.
“Professors, if we could stop this quibbling I could give them proper medical attention.” Draco knew that voice, it was Madame Pomfrey and she sounded highly annoyed.
“A simple levitating charm should do the trick,” a nervous female voice offered. Draco bit his lip and lifted his head in the direction of the meddlesome Hermione Granger. The filthy mudblood was waving her wand at him as if practicing. Draco could make out a dim expression on her face. Her lips were pressed together as if in concentration. He could tell that she was guessing the right course of action.
Attempting to turn his body, Draco grunted and continued to lift himself up. Harry was to his left. Draco’s body felt like deadweight and Harry looked worse than he felt.
“Hermione, don’t the potion—” a voice that sound suspiciously like Looney Lovegood exclaimed. “It hasn’t finished.” Draco lost the voices above him as an invisible weight forced him back down. Something akin to a freezing cold hand grasped his left leg at tight as humanly possible. Choking back a scream, Draco heard a hoarse cry.
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Hermione stopped her incantation. The warning tone in Luna’s voice and the cryptic message confused her. “Luna, what do you mean it the potion isn’t done?” Professor McGonagall yanked Hermione backwards. No more than ten minutes could have passed since their discovery of the attack upon Harry and Malfoy and still nothing had been done to rectify the situation. Ron had left to escort their peers to Filch’s office. Hermione and her fellow professors were left in the middle of the corridor discussing politics and the only suggestion Hermione could come up with wasn’t even being considered.
“We have to do—” Hermione began angrily, but was silenced by the intense flare of magic in the air. The weight of it pressed against her chest, reminding her of what it felt like when Ron melted against her whenever they embraced privately. Something was awakening and there was no way to reach Harry without causing harm to herself and to Harry and Malfoy.
Tightening her grip on her wand, Hermione watched with fascination as Malfoy’s leg began to glow. Unlike the explosion of magic that mimicked the burst of a sunset earlier, this light shone only through the skin of Malfoy’s leg. It was a moment later that the light began to move at an accelerated pace on Malfoy’s calf. Eventually, the light moved so fast Hermione’s eyes couldn’t keep up. When she shifted her gaze to Harry the glow was spreading from the hand that was still pinned by the dagger in the middle of the pentagram to the rest of his body.
Hermione’s mind worked quickly and she thought that the shapes of light appearing in the flesh of both young men reminded her of the ancient runes she’d studied in class.
“Merlin, what kind of curse is this?” Professor McGonagall wondered aloud, her voice wavering.
Hermione shook her head, all of a sudden the hallway felt a lot colder than before. The flames from the candles above her flickered. Her mind was completely blank. The strongest curses she could think of were unmentionables. And none of them did this to their victim.
Harry’s scream brought Hermione out of her failure to guess the curse. The short dry yell meant that Harry was at least alive. Hermione quickly notice that it coincided with the spread of the glowing runes just under the epidermis. It was alive. Hermione was transfixed by the odd angles and arrangements of the runes. They moved with a purpose the same way that blood cells traveled through the blood stream.
“There is nothing I can do for them here. We must move them.” Madam Pomfrey spoke firmly. Her wand was out and lightly tapping her left palm. Hermione wanted to immediately follow her lead, but it was the headmaster who was in charge of this situation.
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“Intent was the key ingredient in the curse.” Professor Morvick murmured to himself. Harry lay in a hospital bed. Hermione absentmindedly flipped through one of Madame Pomfrey’s medical encyclopedias. Hermione wasn’t sure if the headmaster was speaking aloud for his own sake or for hers.
Malfoy rested in a bed in the far corner of the hospital. The expansive room allowed for both young men to occupy the space without the magic coursing through them affecting one another. Transporting both had been quite the ordeal. Harry had to be carried at least ten feet away from Malfoy. Hermione was certain that the distance had to do with how the curse was hurting them. The runes on Harry had spread throughout his entire body while Malfoy’s had only been confined to his leg.
Luna was sitting on her own bed her head cocked to the side. Hermione moved closer to her. She acknowledged the quiet conversation between the headmaster and Madam Pomfrey before the headmaster left the hospital wing. He made sure to close the large doors after him.
“Are you up to talking about what happened?” Hermione asked. The screaming had finally stopped. When she had last watched over Harry, the screams had become silent. The way he tossed and turned reminded Hermione of what it looked like to endure a nightmare or torture. Hermione shivered absentmindedly.
Luna lifted her head. Hermione was transfixed. Luna’s eyes were no longer their lovely pale gray blue. There was something else swirling in the iris and pupil. “Luna, Madame Pomfrey has already examined you hasn’t she? I know there was nothing in your eyes before.” Hermione murmured to herself.
Hermione stooped to gaze better in to Luna’s eyes. “Don’t,” Luna gently pushed Hermione away.
“It’s alright Luna, I can help you.” Hermione tried to shake off Luna’s hands as they firmly held her in place. Luna shook her head and closed her eyes. Hermione resisted Luna at first before moving back. Luna dropped her arms and turned away curling up on the hospital bed.
“I’ll find Poppy,” Hermione offered softly. Maybe there was something Madame Pomfrey could do that would make Luna feel more at ease. Hermione was sure that something was in Luna’s eyes. A part of Hermione wished more than anything that she was with the headmaster questioning the wayward wizards who had caused this mess.
“There’s nothing she can do about it.” Hermione stopped short. Luna sounded so airy and yet so final. Turning back toward Luna, Hermione moved closer to the girl’s side.
“Can’t you tell me what happened?”
“I didn’t see what happened.”
Hermione waited to hear more from the pale haired girl but she was met with silence. Luna closed her eyes and turned her head away. It seemed that Hermione would get no more information from her. Maybe Ron was having better luck.
“Dear, dear.” Hermione shifted to face Madame Pomfrey. At the silent beckoning forward, Hermione made her way over to the foot of Harry’s bed. A ring had been etched into the solid stone of the hospital’s wing’s floor around Harry.
Hermione raised her eyes to meet Pomfrey’s, “I did not do this.”
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Ron crossed his arms as he listened to Vincent Goyle of the House of Slytherin as he finished his tale of woe. The darkened chamber was divided. The houses that had once stood united to attack Malfoy now returned to their four divisions.
There was sick feeling in the pit of Ron’s stomach. There was a chance that they would all get away this atrocious act of violence. Morvick was more interested in keeping the peace than creating strife. Merlin knew after such a destructive war full of turmoil, anxiety and fear that’s all anyone wanted.
Ron casually rubbed his wand between the palms of his hands. What would happen to Harry now? He’d survived the war, but what if this spell maimed him in some way that Ron couldn’t foresee. What of the ferret? What part of the blame would he take for causing the disruption in the first place? Ron had always held the belief, though he kept it strictly between Hermione and himself, that Malfoy didn’t have a place in the new Hogwarts. None of the Slytherins should have been allowed re-admittance into Hogwarts without first pledging a new allegiance and being sorted into the remaining three houses.
The sick feeling continued to grow in Ron’s belly. It tightened his chest and nearly restricted his breathing. Harry would suffer for the unconscionable acts of others, yet again. This event wouldn’t leave the minds the perpetrators in front of him nor the walls of Hogwarts. Perhaps the teachers would know and probably even Kingsley, but the wider Wizarding World would be left wondering in the dark.
Ron supposed that he was resigned to this reality. This was a grim acknowledgement that he’d grown up. He wanted a family with Hermione. He wanted her to fulfill her dreams of academia and well, he’d figure out what he was best at soon enough. And Harry. Harry would get better, this would be put behind all of them. No one really wanted to deal with more trials. The Wizengamot wouldn’t know what to do with these misguided wizards. More than half of them weren’t even legal.
Was Harry destined to fade away? Would Harry become a hero written and praised in the history books, but kept hidden from the world of magic because of a silly prank? A silly prank that seemed to have caused unknown damage. Ron bowed his head hiding his disagreement with the way Morvick was talking with his peers. As Head Boy there was more that Ron could have done to prevent Harry from finding a cause worth fighting for. Why couldn’t Harry have left well enough alone. If it had just been Malfoy that had been hurt it wouldn’t be so important.
Ron knew that justice was not in the future of this conflict.
Irony took the edge off the guilt Ron wouldn’t allow himself to feel. He had always coveted what Harry had, but what of his could he have ever wanted? Ron had the love of his life. He had wonderful if at times overbearing family. He was driven to help others in the way Harry seemed to be cursed into doing. Ron was able to avert his eyes for the most part unless guided into changing his mind. Ron didn’t think he was better or worse off for it, but he wasn’t the one who was unconscious with is life hanging in the balance.
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I'm expanding on this story for those who've read this chapter before. Thank you for reading!!!
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