Soft whispering around me slowly draws me out of my slumber. I, however, refuse to open my eyes. I really don't want to have to deal with anyone right now. After all, knowing my luck, this is either Ron ready to suffocate me with a pillow now, or some Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff student ready to haze me more about Lizzie. I mean, first everyone I know with the exceptions of Snape and Ginny think I impregnated a Ravenclaw girl at the end of last year's term at some party. Then Ginny's prat of a brother, my stupid ex-best friend, tries murdering my classmates and me just because he stupidly believes the lie. My life really can't get much worse.

One would think Ron would just realize by the way that Ginny is acting around me that it's not true, but of course not. That would be too much work for his moronic self. No, no, he has to act like some freaking child and throw an ingredient into my cauldron, trying to kill us on this process. I'm not going to forgive him. I then sigh as I realize that we always go through this. Somehow, in our warped thing called friendship, it's just become normal for Ron to become jealous and me to end up facing some near death experience because of him. That doesn't mean that I'm going to forgive him the first chance I see him. I think that a little ranting and raving is in order for the prat. He did try to murder me!

A gentle hand suddenly rests on top of mine. For some reason or another, I don't flinch at the unexpected touch, though. I always flinch when someone touches me and I'm not expecting it. That's just one of my habits that I've developed after years of living with the Dursleys. I force my face to remain relaxed so I keep up the illusion that I'm resting. Whoever it is will go away soon, hopefully.

"I am so, so sorry, Harry," the voice cries softly.

I nearly groan aloud when I realize that Lizzie is the one speaking with me. If Ginny walks in here and sees this, well, I doubt there isn't a person alive who can't imagine what trouble that will bring. After all, my girlfriend is a bit of a fiery minx at times when she feels threatened by another. I can hear Lizzie sniffle softly as she chokes back her emotions, which makes me believe that I look like absolute crap. Though, I don't care right now. Ginny is my girlfriend, not this girl who thinks I'm the father of her unborn child. I then sigh in my head.

"I don't even know why I'm like this, crying over you. You're fine. You're going to be fine." Her voice doesn't sell that she believes her claims, though. Her hand then rests against my shoulder. "Harry, I'm so sorry. I know that you can't hear me right now, but I'm really sorry this happened." Her voice trembles with unspoken remorse. "I never wanted this. I didn't want any of this," she cries. "I'm ruining both of our lives." She then leans closer and lowers her voice. "If I could, I'd give up this baby in a heartbeat. I never wanted this. Do you understand? I don't want any of this. I'm fourteen. This isn't supposed to be how my life went." She sniffles more, and a couple of her tears fall onto my chest. "Harry, please help me," she pleads with her voice trembling. "I don't know who else to turn to." More tears hit my chest. "If I...if I don't go through with this..." She then draws in a shaky breath. "They're going to—I didn't want this, Harry. You have to believe me. I didn't want any of this. I'm not like them. I'm not. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dragged you into this," she cries.

You dragged me into this, I repeat in my head. So you admit it then. You know that I'm not the father of your kid. How in the world did you fool Snape then? I get my answer a few seconds later.

"I know you didn't want me to tell anyone because you didn't want to hurt Ginny. I know that," she whispers. "I know that she's the one you love, and I'm sorry that I ruined both our lives. But I have to do this. I have to do this or they'll kill my family." A stream of tears now soaks me as she sobs. "I don't know how they knew about it, Harry, but they did." She draws in another shaky breath. "They were waiting for me when I came home. They knew, Harry. They just knew." Sniffling softly, I feel her hand brush against my shoulder as she wipes away her fallen tears. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want any of this to happen. I didn't want to talk to the Prophet, but they told me that if I didn't cooperate, they'd kill my parents. I'm not strong, Harry. I'm not like you." She then whimpers quietly. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry about all of this. I didn't want it. I don't want any of it. But you have to understand. I'm doing this for my parents. Once I give birth and everyone believes the child to be yours, then it's over. I'm sorry, though. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry, but I had to tell, Harry." She then presses a kiss against my cheek before suddenly pulling back. "I had to tell, or they'd kill my parents. I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't let the Death Eaters kill my parents."

~SAH~

The next morning, I lay against my propped up pillows in the Hospital Wing still reeling from Lizzie's tearful confessions. I'm not sure what I make of it yet. On one hand, I'm angry with her for sneaking in to be next to my bedside last night acting like my girlfriend. On the other, I can't help but feel guilty for thinking that all this was her fault. It seems that it really isn't her fault.

At first when I found out that Lizzie was spouting these blatant lies about me, I was angry. I mean, I thought that she just wanted attention or like Snape said to make me look bad. That's not it, though. She's instigating this whole thing because Death Eaters supposedly have her parents. Who knows if that's true, though? She could still be lying to weave me into her web.

Lizzie's tears seemed real enough last night, though. It's rather hard to fake that easily. And then there came the quaint little fact that she actually believes we slept together last term. I can't imagine how she would take the truth on that one. I sigh again. At least I know why Snape lied to her and said it was mine. She'd be devastated. However, no matter how devastated she'll be in the truth, I don't deserve to have my name drug through the mud like this. Dammit, why couldn't Neville be the goddamn Boy-Who-Lived and me the idiot who melted cauldrons? I didn't ask for this Savior crap either.

"Glaring at your breakfast won't make it go away, Potter," Snape drawls on the cot next to me.

"Sir, did you hear anything last night?" I ask glancing at him. I nearly laugh when I catch the pair of black silk pajamas Madam Pomfrey transfigured for him. He doesn't look so intimidating in those clothes. However, I'm not quite suicidal yet. We'll see about next week.

"If you're referring to Miss Burke's horrendous impression of a dying banshee, yes, Potter, I heard her." Snape then calmly sips his juice before grimacing and setting it back down. "And she calls this breakfast," he grumbles.

"Do you think she was telling the truth?"

"About the Death Eaters forcing her to speak with the Prophet about you fathering her child?" When I nod, he gives me his familiar 'what do you think' look. "It would not be the first time this has occurred after all."

"Um...you don't think that maybe the father is, well, a Death Eater, do you?" My stomach sours instantly at my thought, but I keep remembering Lizzie's cry that they just knew.

"I do not. I believe that it was a student who fathered the child." Snape then sighs. "According to Madam Pomfrey's tests so far, it was not a student from my House. She currently is running tests against the Gryffindor males, but I doubt she'll get a match there."

"You think it's someone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?"

"They've certainly been the two main Houses who have wished you ill as of late."

"Yeah, but Ron tried to kill me," I glumly point out glancing back at my breakfast. I pick up my fork and start to pick at my pancakes. Honestly, I'm not sure we'll ever get past this, but I don't know if I want to either.

Ron gets jealous so easily. I have money. His family doesn't, so he gets mad, claiming I'm flaunting my money in his face. I'm a natural flier, and he isn't so he gets mad. I can talk with snakes. He can't so again he gets mad. I get a broom from Sirius, and he is stuck with his old crappy one. Once more, jealousy rears its ugly head. Some goblet picks my name out for some death match. He doesn't, so he gets mad and stops talking to me altogether. I start dating before him. He gets mad and throws a tremendous hissy fit. If Snape poisons me, Ron would probably be jealous of that, too.

"Weasley did not mean to try to kill you, Potter," Snape quietly replies. "He is a bit hotheaded at times and fails to think through his actions before he does them."

"He destroyed your classroom, sir."

"And he will work every Knut of that off in detention when he returns, but I doubt you truly believe that he meant to kill you. Weasley has been your best friend since you both set foot in this castle. Even friends do not mean to kill one another. Things happen. Words exchange. Tempers flare. But you and Weasley shall always be there for one another. Your friendship has survived worse. I believe your fifth year you accused Weasley and Granger of everything in the cauldron and then some. And yet you three are still friends." Snape then scoffs before shaking his head slowly. "I'd sooner crack a smile than you three cease in your asinine friendship that started because you idiots decided to take on a troll."

"Where is Ron anyway?" I ask quietly.

"Molly believed that her son would be better suited with her as he healed from his injuries. He was quite distraught when last seen. Pomfrey concurred. However, Weasley will be here shortly. I doubt even Molly will be able to keep the boy from Granger."

"I ended it, sir," a soft voice says to my left.

"Hermione," I exclaim as I glance towards my best friend. Gauze wraps her wrist, but other than that, she looks fine. Until I catch the red eyes and puffy cheeks, that is. She's been crying. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. It was coming for awhile now." She then shakes her head in her familiar way of trying to rid herself of her thoughts. "So, how are you?"

"I've wrenched my arm out of the socket again," I reply quietly. "And Pomfrey had to do some surgery on me, but I should be free sometime today."

"That's good." She then glances towards Snape. "Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Yes, but ask your question anyway," he responds with a sigh.

"How is it that no one was seriously injured? You, Ron, and Harry took the majority of the—"

"That's where you're wrong, Miss Granger. The classroom took the majority of the explosion, not us." He then draws in a slow breath. "Slytherin included wards in the dungeons that would protect a class just for that exact scenario. The wards instantly reacted with the negative energy that Mister Weasley added with his pickled flobberworm contribution into Potter's cauldron. The flash was the result of the wards surrounding the explosion and sending it elsewhere from the students." Snape then scoffs. "Unfortunately, the only place it had to go was the ceiling. So to answer your question, Miss Granger, we're not dead because Slytherin had the foresight of idiot redheads deciding to believe ridiculous accusations instead of their best friends."

"Oh," she quietly responds glancing down at the ground.

"Quite right, Miss Granger, but don't expect Gryffindor ever to receive points from me after this debacle." Snape then flops back against his propped up pillows. "After all, I'm forced to remain here until Pomfrey believes I'm fit to teach. And I'll be returning to a classroom in ruins thanks to Weasley."