Summer After Year Six.

A/N: I post responses to reviews on the review board, check it out:) All reviews are being answered.

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Beta: Slashy Snitch

Chapter warnings: Affectionate hetero couple, Mortal illness, Unethical nurses, Earth Magic

*****

Chapter 3: The Third Goblin.

A sad little Goblin sat alone at the old wooden table in the dark corner of The Leaky Cauldron. His small shoulders were hunched and his large Goblin ears drooping. An open bottle of Butterbeer in front of him was almost empty. 'They aren't coming. ' He thought, 'They made me come here and now forgot all about me...'

He was not actually allowed to go outside of warded perimeter of his aunt's house, but staying inside would not solve any problems. He was going to get killed, one way or another, sooner or later. Probably sooner now, since most of his magic evaporated and what remained could not be used, until the damaged internal Magical Channels had completely healed. That could take months, and months the Goblin did not have.

The Goblin lowered his ugly Goblin head into his clawed hands and spaced out. He did a lot of that lately. He might wait a bit longer, have another Butterbeer or two and floo back home. Using The Floo Network was the only travel option left, since it did not influence a person's magic anyhow and, unlike Apparition, was safe for sick people and even Squibs.

'Squibs!' He darkly chuckled internally, 'Harry Potter, the Squib who Lived!' The Goblin downed the rest of his beer. 'Or haven't lived at all...' His small brown eyes filled with tears and only his will power stopped them from spilling onto the table top.

He started watching Leaky Cauldron's customers to distract himself. The place was half empty. Sad Goblin's eyes took in Tom, the bartender, a dark bar counter and, finally, stalks of 4x4 Butterbeer cases behind it. He decided to get a case before using his illegal Floo connection to get back to Privet Drive. Get to bed, get drunk out of his mind, forget...What else was out there?

"Hey, mate!" The little Goblin lifted his head, his eyes widening at the sight of a huffing and puffing Goblin couple. Thin lips twitched in amazement.

"Finally you show up."

"Sorry, mate, we, um... got held up."

Hermita and Runkill slid onto the bench opposite their friend.

"You look well." Hermione said after uncomfortable silence.

"Must be all those nutrient potions I had to take this morning." The small Goblin supplied moodily.

"Harry..."

"DON'T! It's Herald! You came up with these ridiculous names, so USE them!"

"I'm sorry...Herald..."

He huffed. 'Sorry' wouldn't help if someone had recognized them. HE would be the target and a vulnerable one at that. Of course, Ron and Hermione were too wrapped up in each other to give others any thought.

Hermione's bottom lip trembled. Ron quietly squeezed her hand under the table. They cared about Harry more then he was willing to admit to himself. They also were the ones who saved his life on the hot Sunday, June 15, almost three weeks ago:

*****

Harry did not worry when he started feeling tired and dizzy after one day in Privet Drive. He was depressed and lost appetite due to horrible recent events. Dumbledore's death, Death Eaters and werewolves at Hogwarts, Horcruxes... It was too much for a young sixteen year old wizard to digest. The Order sent him back to Dursley's and instructed not to live the premises, until they regroup and come to get the Boy Savior. He didn't hear from anyone since then and found himself sitting on the bed and crying a lot. Life had taken a major turn for the worst, the boogie man had become real, the childhood had gone.

Harry spent the next day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. His Muggle family left him alone for the most part, pushing food into his bedroom through the cat flap door. They sensed the shift also. The vulnerable, scrawny child, left in their uncaring hands, was gone, replaced with a gloomy and dangerous wizard. He was still scrawny for his age, only reaching 5'8, but childhood innocence was stripped from his huge emerald eyes. Now they held pain and wisdom of the ancient soul.

He was unable to get out of bed by the supper time and had become unconscious in the following night, burning up in fever and sweating buckets. Aunt Petunia found him like that in the morning, when she brought him a small breakfast and decided to walk into the room and remove two days worth of plates. None of the food was even touched. Petunia tried to make her nephew drink water, at least, and forced a horse dose of aspirin down the boy's throat at his short moment of consciousness. But all was in vain. She ground her huge teeth and had grudgingly written a letter to Dumbledore, asking for help. Hedwig left with the letter and did not return.

*****

Ron and Hermione were kissing gently, lying side by side on the bed in the Hermione's Lair. Leaflets from Magical Dwelling Building course lay around them forgotten. Finally they disconnected their tingling lips and smiled, looking at each other. Going steady for only two days was the best experience ever. "What are we going to do about Harry's tuition? He did not send an answer and the class begins tomorrow." Hermione asked, looking at Ron's full pink lips. She already paid her and Ron's part, thanks to her loving parents, but Harry did not write or sent any money yet.

"I still think that it's a bad idea for Harry to go." Ron said.

"No one will know it's us! We are enrolled under different names and will be Polyjuiced into random Wizards with different Magical Signatures. You know that they'll just make him stay at the Dursley's until he is of age anyway."

Ron sighed and sat up, picking up a colorful Build Your Dream leaflet. It read:

Welcome to the Magical Dwelling Building course. Classes begin on Monday, June 16, strictly at 9:00 am. - 6:00 pm, five days a week. Over the four week period the class will cover:
Week one - Foundations and Power Point balance; Week two - Walls, Stairs and Roofs; Week three - Magical insulation and waterproofing; Week four - Household Amenities (HA), Introduction; End of course tests;
This class is prerequisite for:
Advanced Household Amenities (AHA); Gardens and Fences; Modern Take on Decorating; Locks and Wards, basic and advanced;
All fees must be payed in full before first class.

"You don't really want to become a homebuilder, are you?" Ron wandered.

"Nope. But I really need it to enroll in Wards."

"This is really intense. I didn't plan to sit in the classroom all summer." Ron said sadly.

"It will be fun and four weeks only! And I will be there with you, if that counts."

"It does count! But maybe we should study Defense instead?"

Hermione sat up too and gave Ron a stern look, "You DO know that my home has only basic wards? And what I had to BEG the Order to get even that much? The same goes for most Muggleborns. We all are in danger here. My parents ARE Muggles and nobody cares! I'll tell you what - I will have this place fully warded and unplottable before August and I hope that that is not too late!" She was almost shouting in the end and Ron cringed, thankful for Silencing Charms around the bed. "We can still practice Defense after the class!" She added.

"There won't be any free time at all then!" Ron complained, watching his own hands twirl the leaflet.

Hermione sighed with exasperation, took Ron's chin in her hand carefully and lifted it to look into the boy's eyes. Intense, sparkling with gold, brown met clear blue. "War is at our doors, Ronald," She said in an even, quiet voice, "It is already happening, and we are not ready. We doodle around too much. There will not be ANY free time when it happens. And no food. And deaths. You must be able to create at least a basic shelter and ward it, so you could sleep. We all can die tomorrow. So, stop wasting time."

Ron shuddered and paled, as his girlfriend's true words penetrated to a very core of his being. He grabbed Hermione and squeezed her small curvy body in a bear hug, wrinkling her silk summer dress. "I will die before letting anything happen to you. I love you!" He cried into her brown, bushy hair, inhaling his girl's intoxicating scent. "I'll do whatever it takes, I promise! We'll be together and we won't die!"

Hermione hugged him around his firm waist tightly and trembled. "I love you too, Ron." She whispered into his broad chest.

They held each other for a few minutes, hearts beating in unison, before reluctantly separating and climbing off the bed.

"Let's go talk to Harry now." Ron said.

"We can't just show up..."

"And why not?"

"His family... We'll get him in trouble. Could we owl him first?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"You know, I am sick of this, Hermione. We are not kids anymore, they can't treat him like that!"

"Well, I suppose, it is a normal thing for friends to drop over every now and then..." She had to agree.

"Let's go, then."

They hugged each other and Apparated from the Lair into a small park near Harry's house. 'Merlin, no Antiapparition wards on her house,' Ron realized, as Hermione's previous words rang true. This would be unthinkable at the Burrow, Weasley family might not be wealthy, but they had superior Wards installed. He started considering talking to his Dad about this. Hermione could be safe at the Burrow. She could move into the Percy's old room temporarily... Yeah, Ron liked that idea more and more, as they walked towards Dursley's house.

The house was nice and clean looking, surrounded by luscious flowerbeds. They walked to the door; Hermione put a pleasant smile on her face and rang the doorbell. Petunia Dursley opened the door almost immediately and looked them both over. Wave of recognition and immediate dislike came across her horse-like features.

"Took you long enough!" She spouted through her perched lips.

"Huh?!?"

"You should have come two days ago, took your time, didn't you?" Petunia asked puzzled magical couple in front of her.

"Mrs. Dursley..." Hermione started, as alarms started going off in her head. Something wasn't right around here.

"Just go upstairs and take care of it!" Harry's aunt caught her off impatiently and moved to the side to let them in.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but did not argue. They walked in and upstairs, curiously looking around. The house was really very nice. Petunia followed them closely, not taking her wary eyes off their backs, as if at any moment they would explode the place. She stopped and motioned at the door of Harry's room. "Just go in now." She said, not planning on entering the room herself.

Ron carefully cracked it open and picked inside. The next moment they both run in, horrified. Their friend was thrashing in his small single bed, eyes closed, mumbling deliriously. His wrinkled sheets were sticky wet and covered in dark stains, sickly stench in the air. But that was not the worst of it. The worse part was the faint neon-like light surrounding the boy's prone, small body. It looked like magic in it's pure form and kept flickering, distorting Harry's pale features like a bad TV. The crackling non-stop sound, like paper being wrinkled and torn from time to time, made the skin crawl down Ron and Hermione's backs.

Hermione made a desperate sound and lunged towards Harry, her arms outstretched. Ron grabbed her hard and pushed his girlfriend behind his back. "Don't come close!" He shouted. Hermione was gasping and pushing. Ron took her wrist and raised it to her eyes, shoving the bracelet in front of the girls face. "Get the Mediwizard!" His voice was hysterical. Hermione put her hand on the small St. Mungo's charm and closed her eyes. In five seconds the door bell rang, the House Wards not allowing the Mediwizard to Apparate inside Harry's home.

The old, tall Mediwizard was let in by Petunia. She brought him into her nephew's room, closed the door behind and left. Ron's eyes were on Harry while Hermione watched the healer intently. The healer's sharp beady eyes took in the picture and she saw them narrow. 'Not good,' she thought. The Mediwizard's attention was completely on the patient; he stepped to the bed and cast series of diagnostic spells. The crackle in the air intensified. With dread, Hermione saw the man's face turning chalk-white.

"The Dragon Pox!" he announced gravelly.

Ron gasped as if he was shot. Hermione saw her boyfriend's big blue eyes staring at the healer, a hand covering his mouth. Ron turned as white as the healer now. Brown freckles became clearly visible on his long nose. "At least four days!" He croaked out.

"Fuck!" The Healer shouted extremely unprofessionally, "Isolation Ward, now!"

"Privacy!" Ron said urgently.

The Healer waved his wand and Harry's body was levitated off the bed and wrapped in sheets head to toe. Hermione knew that something horrible has happened. The Dragon Pox was a terrible disease but wizards could cure it to her knowledge.

"The patient's name?"

Ron opened his mouth but Hermione beat him to it. "Ron Weasley!" she said loudly.

Harry was taken to St. Mungo's second floor's Isolation Ward under Ron's name and a team of four Mediwizards worked ten hours straight, before the illness was stopped. Ron and Hermione were checked over in another room and cleared for any disease. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rushed in and they all waited for a verdict on Harry's health.

When the verdict came, it was terrible. 67% of Magical Channels in his body were completely destroyed and remaining 33% badly damaged and brittle. He entered into a magical coma and would remain in it for a few days, following which he would be banned from doing any kind of magic for at least six months, until remaining Channels healed.

The rehabilitation could begin then, but, even though Harry still had more Channels then a common Muggle or Squib, he would be able to do only basic spells. He would have to get a new wand also, probably a training model, like what Wizarding children get.

*****

Harry came back to consciousness slowly. He hanged suspended in the darkness; strange noise, like waves of the ocean, was the first thing he became aware of. Strangely, his body was missing, or, if it was not the case, then he just couldn't feel it. Harry concentrated on the noise, which sounded clearer and louder by the minute. The boy could make out different people talking now. '

'Dudley left his TV on again,' he figured, 'It must be really late.'

"Blah, blah blah...Blah blah... fully dilated pupils," the confident professional male voice said.

Something bright nearly blinded Harry. 'What the hell?' The light was gone, leaving floating light spots in the darkness. Harry felt slight fathom of pains appearing where, he imagined, his knees and elbows should be.

"Absolutely no reflexes," the voice continued, "the patient becomes a virtual vegetable without any conscious thought process whatsoever."

That was taking it a bit too far! Harry got a bit agitated. They were talking about him, he surmised, and he DID have a conscious thought process. In fact, that was the only thing he had right now.

"The patient will remain in this state for about a week, after which he shall resume his alertness."

"Is there any treatment for the patient while in this condition?" Another man asked in a respectful whiny voice.

"Just basic body maintenance from now on, we are finished here. He can be moved to the Isolation Holding Unit."

Harry heard a few more people talking, they were leaving the room.

'Mediwizards... I must be ill...Why so many?' Sound of the door closing.

Silence. Door opens again.

"Is it him?"

"Err, Ronald Weasley, seventeen years old, magical coma, moving to Iso Hold...Yep, it's him"

"So young, pity."

Harry nearly jumped out of his non-existing skin. 'Ron is here!?! Ron is in a coma!?! In this same room, how?' He strained to move, strained to open his eyes but it didn't work. The young wizard felt slight pressure where his body should be; strange smells and noises started moving by; light started flickering through his non-existing eye lids. 'I am being moved,' he thought. 'What about Ron?' He was left alone in the darkness again and started panicking. 'Where the hell am I? Not Dursley's, for sure. And where is Ron? SOMEBODY, HELP ME!!!'

He was alone forever, the light slowly came on. 'Morning...' Slight pressure was felt on his back. 'The bed...' He wandered if he was paralyzed from his neck down. Sound of the door opening, light steps, rustle; slight pressure applied to the missing right hand.

"Harry, oh, Harry!"

'Ginny!'

"I am so sorry!"

'Please, don't cry!'

"I love you, no matter what. I'll take care of you, don't you worry."

'But we broke up...'

Ginny kept crying. Harry felt a bit of warmth on his hand and realized that she was slobbering all over it. Being helpless really sucked! Harry started hanging to every word she said, trying to find out what was going on with him and Ron, but all in vane. He knew it was bad, though.

Harry still felt guilty about their recent break-up. He told her that he did it for her safety, it was too dangerous to be a famous Harry Potter's girlfriend. Partially that happened to be true. But only partially. Weasley's were Dark Lord's targets no matter what. The real truth was that the relationship turned out to be a failure.

Harry really tried. He was attentive, hugged and kissed Ginny a lot and spent a lot of time together. But he found being together more and more boring and caught himself anticipating the time apart more and more. Kisses and hugs felt nice and comforting, but not spectacular or earth shuddering. That was a total failure and, combined with the previous failure with Cho Chang, which took a lot of time to recover from, by the way, Harry started believing himself to be asexual.

The best part about being with Ginny was not even physical, but more her devotion, attention and companionship. Ginny was clever and funny and came up with funniest pranks, not unlike Fred and George's. She did remind him of the wicked twins, whom Harry sorely missed. Harry was admittedly very lonely and felt like a failure.

The young wizard was still a virgin at almost seventeen years old; he didn't even have wet dreams, since all his dreams were being blocked to prevent nightmares. He'd wake up with a 'morning wood' almost every day and take care of it alone in Gryffindor showers, before anyone woke up. It was mostly done for relief, no fantasies crossed his mind except, maybe, about Quidditch. Never about Cho or Ginny, two most attractive girls in their respective years. It had to be war-related stress taking it's toll.

Ginny left after her long crying session and Harry would of sighed in relief, if he still had his lungs. He was alone till evening. Ron and Hermione came to visit after the first day of Dwelling Building class. Ron was not hurt after all! Harry could sing from joy!

Ron had a total nervous breakdown at the sight of his comatose friend. He started crying, like a baby. Harry felt slight pressure on his right wrist, followed by warmth again. 'Why is everyone crying into that hand?' Harry wandered uncomfortably. People did touch his right hand a lot, probably because it was closest to the door. 'It needs to get sanitized...'

"Ron, stop it! Stop, please." Hermione begged him in a broken voice.

"You don't understand! It's all my fault! Mine!"

"How could it be! You did not get him infected."

Harry's ears perked up, finally he was going to find out what exactly had happened to him.

"It is! I should of known, I should of checked on it!" Ron bawled, holding his sick friend's hand.

"Checked on what, precisely?"

"His shots! He was never given his shots as a baby, Hermione!" Ron wailed loudly and the warmth on Harry's hand increased. "What kind of a friend am I, not to check on a basic thing like that."

Harry heard rustle, felt some movements. Ron's crying came out muffled now and Harry's hand was left alone.

"Stop it! It was not your job, Ronald. Adults were in charge of Harry and they failed."

"What about YOU? Did you have yours?"

"Aww! STOP SHAKING ME NOW!" Hard breathing. Hermione started talking in a calmer voice then: "I had all my shots at eleven years old."

"What?"

"My Hogwarts letter came, so my parents replied. They requested a counselor for me. My Dad questioned them about Magical world and that is how we found out what to do. I had all shots at ones before my First Year; it made me sick for two weeks."

"Merlin, your parents are Muggles and they figured it out! Harry's family were wizards."

"You can't have shots before two years of age, you know that. He lived with his aunt by then."

"But Dumbledore was in charge! What about McGonagall? Pomfrey is a nurse, for crying out loud! They fucking failed and so did I." They left after Ron calmed down. Harry lied alone, thinking. So, he got infected with some magical germs, most likely at Dumbledore's funeral. Some sort of permanent damage was caused. He'll deal with that, he'll lift weights and drink potions to regain strength.

There is no way Ginny will be looking after him. The boy wondered if he still had bodily functions. Of course, he may lay in a pile of poop and not even feel it. Late at night the nurse came. 'Ah, the 'body maintenance'. She had actually spoken to him, informing the boy about spells before using them. He was efficiently spell - cleaned, outside and internally. Maintenance spells felt like a light breeze. His bowels and bladder got emptied, ears, mouth and nose cleaned and even nails clipped. All of that was done without touching his body even ones, purely by magic.

Harry felt grateful, being a very private person. That night he slept. This became a routine for the next six days. Ginny would come in the morning, sometimes with her parents. Ron and Hermione - in the evening after class. Not a single person from The Order, except for Molly and Arthur, had visited the comatose boy.

The kind nurse took care of him at night. He listened to people talk around him, bored. The young wizard started getting more and more in touch with his body, his senses returning with every passing day. It was only a matter of time to regain control fully and start moving. He began craving soft-boiled eggs with a pinch of salt and a piece of dry toast. And some orange juice... Being comatose just isn't fun.

*****

Harry waited for the nightly visit of his nurse on the sixth night. She must of had a day off, since two chirping nurses entered instead.

"Oh, look, it's Him!"

"It's true, then."

"You sure, He looks about fifteen?"

"I am positive. See the scar."

Harry felt a warm breath on his face. They were getting way too close! And he did not look fifteen!

"Wow! It's real."

They actually touched his forehead, more then once.

"He is so adorable, look at those eyelashes."

"Look at those lips! You know..." She started whispering, they both giggled. Harry heard the warding spell being put on the door. That was not good. What are they up to? What if these nurses serve Voldemort? It would be so easy to AK him right now. He'll never reach seventeen... The single bed dipped on one side, someone sat close, hot breath wafted on the boy's face. Harry braced himself for the inevitable death. Hot lips pressed to the boy's mouth instead.

'Oh my god! A total fucking stranger is kissing me. Oh, no, now she is licking me.' He could feel everything, but was unable to move.

"No one will ever believe I kissed Him!" The young nurse gasped excitedly.

"Yeah, that's because you are spelled to never mention Him being here!" They giggled again, then switched places. Harry's face was taken between two soft hands and a second assault on his lips began. The second nurse acted more boldly. She actually pressed down on his chin with her fat thumbs, making the helpless boy's mouth open. Her soft wet tongue entered his mouth, flicking around.

'Liver and onions! Oh, god!' Harry wanted to barf.

"You don't think He can feel this?"

"No, He is completely out. But He is due to wake up any day now."

'That just proves how much you know about your job! Go read a textbook.' Harry felt very angry. The nurse's pudgy hand caressed his face.

"This is our only chance, really..."

"Oh, you are so bad!"

Mad giggling. "I am doing it! Are you staying?"

More giggling. 'What are you up to? Stop it!.'

He found out what the next minute, as the hospital blanket was lifted off his body and cool air rushed in. 'Ahhh!' He wore only a thin knee-length hospital gown now.

"So small! Like a china doll! "

'More like a puppet.'

"It's hard to believe that he fought You Know Who."

"Do you think that He is small everywhere?" The same fat fingers caressed Harry's leg, slowly moving up and just under the hem of the boy's gown.

'What? No, stop it!'

"You ARE bad!"

"It's now or never."

Slowly, the light cloth moved up Harry's legs, lifting and bunching up above his belly button. Harry could die from mortification. He was naked from his waist down and could literally feel nurses eyes burning into his defenseless flesh.

The boy who showered alone even after Quidditch games, waiting for his teammates to leave first! The boy who's young cock was never exposed to female eyes. There were two of them now, ogling his most private part like two vultures. And the young wizard did not even know their names or what they looked like. This had officially become 'The Most Embarrassing Day of The Boy Who Lived'. Harry was prepared listen to them to start laughing next. Only heavy breathing could be heard in the room.

"Well," one of them said breathlessly, "I think that we found The Secret Weapon."

"Merlin, he is perfect!" In a sort of strangled voice, "It's the best one I've EVER seen!"

"That would make it the best in England!"

"Oh, shut up!" They chuckled nervously.

Harry couldn't understand what was so great about it. He loved his cock, of course. He loved it's heavy feel in his strong 'wanking' hand. But he didn't get to see too many other man's privates to make a comparison.

Harry had wandered into Dudley's secret stash of porn magazines last summer and attempted to compare himself to a few pictures of naked men, whose bodies weren't obscured by a huge female ass or tits. They looked about the same like him. Well, his body was a bit scrawnier, but Harry was still expecting his last growth spurt, when his body would catch up with his dick and he'd be able to walk into the public shower with a confident smile.

"I bet, he tastes as good as he looks..."

Harry gasped inside at realization that he was about to be molested even worse. 'No! It's supposed to be special! Not with you!'

If only he could open his eyes, if only he could move; he wanted to hex them so badly; nothing...nothing, not even his heart rate would go up. Hot pants of air were tickling Harry's black pubic hair now. He just knew that that air tasted of liver and onions. 'I swear, I'll wake up and hex your boobs off, Liverbreath!!!'

"Too bad He has lost his magic."

A ton of bricks falling on his head could not have shocked the young wizard more. Her voice kept ringing in his head:

'Lost his magic... Lost his magic...'

He didn't hear the door ward the nurses placed on his door to go off and them covering him up and scramming. He did not get molested THAT way and he did not receive his normal body maintenance that night either. It didn't matter.

'Lost his magic... Lost...'

Harry opened his eyes the next morning, just after sunrise.

*****

"Herald! The food is here."

Hermione's voice brought Harry back to reality. 'I need to stop spacing out so much. Wonder what we were talking about...' He thought distractedly.

"So, are you going?"
"Going where?" He asked carefully. He DID miss a large part of the conversation, judging by her raised eyebrows.

"Forbidden Forest, Saturday, next week. Our last tests are next Friday, remember?"

He remembered. He would be taking those tests with his friends if it wasn't for Dragon Pox. Harry and Hermione discussed the Magical Dwelling Building course last autumn, when she applied for early enrollment qualifier. He was interested in Wards also, feeling that his knowledge lacked in that area. The class was held only twice a year and hard to get into. Harry knew, that he would never be able to qualify for it now. It was one more thing, reminding him of the chasm between himself and a wizarding world.

Harry felt that chasm the day he woke up from magical coma. He was surrounded by people, tested, poked at and, finally, released into his family's care. A few Order members escorted the thin, pale boy home through the one-time Floo connection. They hardly spoken to him or looked him in the eye. He was left at home with a box full of med-potions and a detailed list of instructions on taking them. They confiscated his wand also.

The Weasley family was outraged by this treatment and Arthur came to take the boy to the Burrow that very same day. Harry declined the offer, of course. Mr. Weasley had to accept it. He came back the next day with a couple of friends and they installed an illegal Floo hook-up. It was undetectable and set, using Blood Magic, that only Harry could use it.

"Come to the Burrow at any time, Harry, day or night." Arthur had said before leaving. "You don't need a reason."

"So, why do we need to go to the Forbidden Forest again?

"You really need to snap out of it! I just spent ten minutes talking about this. I should of brought the Concentration potion for you."

"Ha, ha, I am on a Potion Schedule and not supposed to mix them with others."

"You mix them with alcohol all right."

Harry blushed purple, noticing the second empty beer bottle in front of him. He didn't remember opening or drinking it. He picked up his kidney pie and sank his teeth into the meaty goodness in embarrassment. Ron chuckled at him through his own huge mouthful.

"Well, anyway, we are going to check out the Stronghold Powerpoint. It's the only one Doublepoint in the country."

Harry wrinkled his eyebrows at the Doublepoint.

"Two Stronghold points at close proximity? Hogwarts is built on one and the other is in the Forest? I swear, I have no idea how any of you had passed your OWLs."

"Hey, I know about Powerpoints!" Ron said indignantly.

"Sure, because they were covered in the Building class. We learned about the Grid in the third year, so what you know. Magical Theory class, if it rings the bell."
It did sound familiar. "Earth Magic, right?" Harry asked.

"Finally we see the light!" Hermione smiled. "Seriously, you've been using Earth Magic all your lives and remain so ignorant of the source."

"What do you mean - 'using'? I was using my own Magic, right?"

"Are you kidding? There is no such thing as 'one's own Magic'! It's all Earth Magic in every living being. Wizards just have more channels it runs through. Come on, even Magical plants are the same, they have more channels than regular ones. That was covered in Herbology AND Potions. Remember?"

"Um..."

"Ron?"

"Sure, I remember. All living things have those, the more you have, the longer you live. That's why our lifespans are twice as long as Muggle ones" Ron smiled, proud of his knowledge.

Harry paled at that. Hermione's eyes flushed at Ron angrily like two brown lightnings.

"Are you saying... My life is shorter now?" Harry whispered nervously.

"Just a little bit," Hermione answered gently, "You are still a wizard."

Harry lost interest in his food and sat there, staring down at the table. "I've lost two thirds." He said finally. "Why do you even want me to go to Forbidden Forest, when I am of no use to anybody?"

"You are not going to be of USE," Ron said firmly, "You are going because you are our FRIEND and we LOVE you. No Dragon Pox can change that."

"You are still going, right?" Hermione asked carefully.

"I don't want to Polyjuice into a Goblin anymore."

"You have to. I can send you a half hour potion, so it won't be for long. We just need to walk through Hogsmeade to the forest and get on our brooms."
Harry's small shoulders drooped. "I can't fly." He said sadly in a very quiet voice.

"You can with Ron. And you will again when you'll get better, I promise."

Harry forced a smile on his thin goblin lips and nodded. His friends were very decent people. He should be grateful. He'll tag along for their sakes, so they would feel good about their handicapped friend.

The boy's sad goblin eyes returned to the stalks of Butterbeer cases. 'Asexual, lonely, squib,' he tallied in detachment, 'With a short lifespan...'

END OF THE THIRD CHAPTER.