Chapter 13. Solutions

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Draco had to make an appearance at lunch in the Great Hall to avoid the awkward questions that came with him apparently missing so many meals, so Harry was left alone just before twelve. He had a nice long shower and then went back to his reading and research, in a much better mood than the one in which he had woken. Absorbing himself in the information in the books he managed to put the remaining guilt to the back of his mind, so much so that he did not even think about it until he heard a very familiar voice.

"Harry, are you busy?"

Shock and complete horror were Harry's initial reaction as he turned and found Ron's head peering around the inner entrance to his room. It was then and only then that he remembered the instructions he had given to Jeremy to let his friends in if they called unless he was busy with someone else. He had been so wrapped up in what he was doing that he had never told the portrait any different.

"Um, no," Harry managed to reply as his eyes darted desperately around the room, looking for any way out.

"Cool," Ron said, seemingly not in the least bit phased by what had happened the previous day, "because we wanted to talk to you."

Horror morphed into abject terror as Harry realised that Ron had brought re-enforcements. As his three friends trooped through the door, he seriously considered making a dash for the bathroom and locking himself in. All three appeared very determined about something and although he had stood against Voldemort and his whole inner circle, Harry suddenly felt outnumbered.

"Hello, Harry," Neville greeted pleasantly in his usual cheerful, if somewhat befuddled, manner.

Harry didn't even try and reply. His voice was hiding somewhere, cowering in fear and he knew if he tried to speak, he would just squeak at his friends.

"Harry, Mate," Ron said after a few moments of silence, "why do you look like there's a dragon behind us?"

"Ron," Hermione said patiently, "I think perhaps Harry's a little," she paused to pick the right word, "worried about what happened yesterday."

The tension had caused Harry's entire chest to tighten up and he was breathing in short little gasps, making his lungs feel like they were on fire. He tried very hard to calm down, but he was petrified. The image that kept passing through his brain was Ron's dead face from his dream.

"That's what we're here to talk about," Ron said brightly, which really did not help Harry at all.

"What Ron's trying to say," Neville decided to step in, "is that we're volunteering. Ron says that Professor Snape reckons you need four donors, and there are only three of us, but we're willing to give it a go, if it's alright with you."

Harry just stared. He sat in his chair, forgotten book in hand and stared. He wasn't quite sure he had heard that correctly. The idea would just not stick in his head. He'd mentally grasp at it and it would slip out of his reach. Neville had definitely said something about donors, but the dream image of Ron kept putting itself in the way of all his other thought processes.

"Harry," Hermione asked gently, moving forward from where she was standing in a line with the other two, "are you feeling alright."

He blinked at her. This was Hermione, calm, rational, practical Hermione, she could not possibly be part of what he thought he might have heard, could she?

"I," Harry said, in his opinion, rather pathetically.

The mental image of Ron's dead face overlaid itself on Hermione's and he had to look away.

"Look, Harry," Ron's voice broke through the waking nightmare, "you're not blaming yourself for what happened are you? It's not your fault, and it wasn't as if you hurt me or anything. It was rather good to tell you the truth."

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