Squeezing through the restricted gap between the chipped cubicle door and the ceiling Harry finally laid eyes on Hermione, lying lifelessly on the cold floor. Her head was tilted slightly to the left, her chin just touching her shoulder. Her hand was open beside her waist as if waiting for somebody to hold it. Ron noticed Harry pause at the top of the door staring fearfully at something on the other side.
"Is she alright?" Ron asked, increasing the loudness of his voice to catch Harry's attention.
With a final look at Ron, he let his hold on the door go and collapsed beside Hermione. He stopped instantly, having no idea of what his next movements would be. His mind was completely devoid of all rational thought and he seemed to try and speak as his lips moved continuously and soundlessly. Her face had gone white; no colour remaining in her cheeks, her lips looked borrowed from a morgue. Her eyes were closed and he could not make out whether she was breathing or not. Fragmented glass cut at the knees of his trousers but he still refused to move.
He found himself leaning over her and incessantly repeating her name. He slipped his shaking hand into her limp unresponsive one. Pressing two fingers against her ashen throat, he closed his eyes desperately waiting for a pulse. Finally he felt a slow rhythm against his fingers. The pulse was there but it was terribly weak.
"Harry," she whimpered faintly. He found himself doused in relief but it was only short lived as he tried to keep her conscious. He charged to the door and wrenched back the lock to let Ron in. "Oh god," he moaned when he saw her.
Harry knelt beside her again reclaiming her hand for reassurance. He was trying frantically to calm himself down along with Hermione but he was failing in both cases. "She's freezing," Harry noted, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her closer to him. "Go get Professor Dumbledore," he implored frenetically.
"No," Hermione moaned and she faintly attempted to grasp his wrist.
"Go…now," he demanded, ignoring her. He knew she did not want them to get caught but the situation had become more severe than they could have dreamed of.
"Harry please," she begged looking at him with an unfocused gaze.
"Hermione, you need help. Now!" he replied, agitated.
"We'll be… expelled… immediately. Any other time Harry and I'd let you go…. But…. they need you," she breathed. Harry noticed she was fading out of consciousness again. "You… can't be expelled," she finished vaguely.
"I can't save you," he muttered forlornly to her.
"Yeah ya can," she replied indistinctly. Her eye lids fell closed and he shook her slightly. She tried to say something but her voice repeatedly failed. "B…B…Be..."
"Hermione…Her…." He paused, suddenly understanding her. His face shot up to Ron's horrified one. "Bezoar!" he roared.
"What?!" Ron asked in puzzled astonishment.
"You need to get a bezoar. It counteracts poisons. It's an antidote," he explained rapidly. He started to move, removing Hermione from his lap but she reacted instantly. "No…stay with me." Harry saw something in her eyes, more than just distressed pain, deeper than fear.
"Ron you have to go," he said, his eyes not leaving hers. "Snape will have them in his classroom."
"I can't break into His classroom. What happens if I get caught?!"
"If you're discovered then tell him everything, and just get him here as soon as you can. But for now, we're going to have to do this by ourselves. Just hurry Ron…she's weakening."
With one last nervous glance into the cubicle where Harry was clutching Hermione, Ron left speedily out into the empty corridor.
He sprinted down through the castle until he reached the vast Entrance Hall which was lighted by the waning candles of the Great Hall. With the image of a dying Hermione and an anxious Harry imprinted into his mind he followed the foreboding steps deeper into the dungeons. As his footsteps echoed on the stone steps he wiped his sweaty palms on his robes pondering the thought that this was one of the worst Christmas' ever since the birth of Christ.
He was tempted to light his wand but feared that someone, presumably Snape, would spot him through the darkness. He pushed the Potions classroom entrance door ajar and noiselessly and blindly slipped through. Distinguishing the pointed desks through the darkness he carefully made his way through the minefield of sharp edges. He finally discovered a cabinet that was located directly behind Snape's desk. Opening it he found only darkness in its depths. He clumsily shoved his hand onto one of the shelves and started fumbling around for a bezoar. He did not have a clue what it looked like.
"Bloody hell," he surrendered, removing his wand from his robes. "Lumos," he whispered and the tip barely lit. There on the shelf a small label read `bezoars' and above it, what appeared to be fleshy stones. He snatched one and put it into his pocket, then shut the cabinet. As he made his way back through the dimly lit desks the door swung open and a shaft of light pierced down the adjacent aisle of desks. He immediately bounded under one of the larger tables, his heart hammering a drum solo against his chest. His mouth was dry with consuming anticipation.
"Miss Cole, your recent performances in Potions have been of the highest standard," Snape said languidly as he approached his desk. All the candles in the room sparked to life causing shadows to dance on the walls.
He watched, riveted, as Abby Cole entered after the indolent Potions Master. She did not seem intimidated by Snape whatsoever nor disconcerted by the fact that he had given her a compliment. As Snape continued to tell her about various occupations she could apply for after Hogwarts, Ron crept around the other side of the desk. He shuffled to the other end just as Abby caught him. He froze staring at her, his mouth agape with horror. Her face resembled his but then she smiled coyly.
"Are you listening Miss Cole?" Snape asked dangerously with a hint of anger.
"Yes, of course Professor Snape." Her head snapped back in his direction as she answered merrily. When Snape swivelled around to look at something on his desk, she quickly motioned for Ron to make a run for it. Crouching lower to the ground he crawled to the door, giving Abby a grateful smile as he went. Snape pivoted again to speak to Abby but she instantly leaped across to him, grabbed his arm and spun him around so his back was to the door. "You look…nice…today," she put together quickly with feigned interest.
Ron could not apprehend himself from sniggering as he heard Snape stutter incoherently as Abby continued her mock flirting with him. After a moment of pausing outside the door he rushed away from the dungeons and up through the castle. The cheerful spirits which Abby's actions had caused were soon forgotten when he reached the suffocating cubicle again. Hermione was utterly unconscious and limp in Harry's arms. It took him a moment to gain Harry's full attention, after which he swiftly thrust the bezoar into Hermione's mouth.
After a few tense seconds Hermione started to twitch and jerk frenziedly. Her eyes flew open and her mouth began to excrete a white froth. Harry wiped the froth away energetically and ensured Ron it was a derivative of the bezoar. Just after Hermione's chest heaved forward she slumped into a lifeless state. Harry laid the palm of his hand across her burning forehead. Ron stepped forward anxiously. "She looks so warm. Is she?"
"Yeah," Harry replied breathily. "Her fever from the poison has passed. The magical properties of it caused a reaction which meant that she turned stone cold. Now she's returning to a normal state but because of the hazardous reaction…her body is finding it hard to adjust to normal body temperature. This fever is more common, it can be fixed with more conventional methods." Her skin was pale, clammy and if he had not seen the perspiration trickling from her forehead he would have thought her dead. He removed her robes from her shoulders and unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt, trying desperately to cool her down.
"We have to get her to Gryffindor Tower," he implored as he heaved her up from the grimy floor. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he lifted her carefully higher into the air. "Are you sure you can do this?" Ron asked warily seeing the strain in Harry's face.
"Yep," he choked out. Her head rested against his shoulder and her face was so close to his Harry could feel her gentle breathing against his skin. It was calming to know she remained breathing. He struggled while climbing the steep stone steps of the staircase but his willpower did not waver and he held out until they reached the Tower. The Fat Lady was missing in action from her portrait but had fortunately left the entrance open. Darkness now consumed the castle and the common room was softly lit with the twirling flailing wisps of the crackling fire.
"Oh my god," came a whisper from behind them. Ron swivelled on the spot to see Abby wearing a flabbergasted expression, her palms over her mouth in astonishment. She rushed forward to the apparently lifeless body in Harry's arms. "What happened?"
"She's been poisoned," Harry replied abruptly, the evasiveness evident in his tone of voice. "Come on, we'll put her in our dormitory."
Abby followed them in a trance like state as they scaled up the staircase. With as much sensitivity as he could muster through his frantic mind, he laid her down on his bed. Ron shoved the windows open and a fierce blustery wind blew into the circular room.
Harry continued to remove her heavy clothing, flinging them to the floor in a heap. Abby, who had rapidly caught on to the severity of the situation, returned with a bowl of water. "It's tepid water to cool her down," she explained as she soaked a linen cloth and placed it across Hermione's forehead. Harry paused momentarily to watch her before speaking. "Thank you. We're gonna need help over the next few hours and…"
"Of course I'll be here," she answered resolutely.
An hour passed in which they monitored Hermione's condition vigilantly before Ron asked the question that was plaguing him. "Can we bring her out of this… fever?"
"Yeah. We have to alleviate the fever. It could take awhile. A few days maybe," Harry said with a deadened voice. "There has to be a potion that can be brewed to help. Muggles use aspirin so…there has to be a magic remedy. I'll have to do some research…"
"I know the potion. Leave it to me," Abby assured him. She got to her feet in a seemingly abrupt movement against the stillness that had filled the room. Harry had his hand balled into a fist beneath his chin and was shaking his knee nervously. "She will be okay," Abby said gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. All he could offer her was a slight smile but returned to his worried expression once she had gone. She returned an hour later and administered the potion to Hermione. There was enough to last for two day in the brew she had made. Harry thanked her and got a consoling but encouraging hug from her.
The effects of the potion were visibly noticeable as Hermione's temperature improved and breathing eased into that of someone sleeping.
"Who poisoned the potion? It was obviously the same person who attacked her earlier…but who? I don't get it…" he sighed.
Ron snorted derisively from across the room. "Think about it…practically all the Slytherins stayed in the castle for Christmas. It had to be one of them. I mean apart from them…well no Ravenclaw would do it nor would a bloody Hufflepuff," he laughed weakly. "Then there's only the three of us."
"No Ron…you are wrong. A Ravenclaw has attacked me before. Roger Davies…he was the one who frightened the life out me…way back. But it wasn't him. It was something else. Some force…some power in the castle. And I don't think it matters to this…power," he spat the word as if it fouled the air around him "whether you're muggle born or not…but it uses this to attack muggle borns. So in fact the message written in blood on the walls of this castle…" he roared furiously "are lies. Nobody is safe! Nobody."
"Calm down, Harry," Ron responded, somewhat timidly. "Maybe you should get some sleep. I doubt Hermione will wake till morning. And you could do with some sleep. We both could. Do we have to monitor her condition through the night?" he asked gesturing towards Hermione's sleeping form.
"No, she should all be right now with the potion," he replied sadly, raking his fingers through his hair. "I'll kip on Seamus' bed tonight."
"Right," agreed Ron with a nod of his head. He removed his jumper and threw himself onto his own bed. Harry heard him shuffling under the bed covers and laughed quietly to himself.
"She won't see you changing, Ron," he chuckled.
"Just in case," he mumbled almost incoherently.
Harry drifted in and out of consciousness listening to Ron's snores. Outside the darkness was so deep that it looked like a heavy curtain had been drawn across the world. He shifted onto his side and saw the grey outline of his bed. Climbing furtively out of Seamus' four poster he made his way over to side beside Hermione. She was still quite warm but not as bad as earlier. She was merely sleeping to his eyes and did not seem in much pain.
He held out a hand barely touching hers. His knuckles caressed the skin on the back of her hand and he let out an audible sigh. He did not know whether it was relief or whether it was sadness for all that had happened. Guilt. Sorrow. Pain. He pulled the blankets higher up her body and then returned to Seamus' bed. He sank his head into the pillow and watched her form until his eyes were too heavy to remain open.
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