This morning at breakfast, I sat by myself at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione have decided to sit with Seamus, Dean, and other Gryffindors instead of me, which Ginny strangely doesn't make an appearance at all. Once again, Hermione gives me that pained apologetic smile as she follows Ron like the good girlfriend she is. I can see in her eyes that she wants to come over and sit by me, but she has that hesitation in her now. I get that hesitation, though. She's afraid Ron will do something stupid like he always does when he gets like this.

Truthfully, I don't blame them for being angry with me. Scratch that. Ron's the angry one, which I understand why. He thinks that I cheated on his sister with Lizzie. I mean, I saw how protective he was last year when Ginny was with Michael and then later Dean. She's his little sister, so of course he is going to be a big prat thinking that I would hurt her like that. One would think Ron would know me a bit better than that, but then again, we have that whole 'Chosen One' thing between us still.

As I walk into Potions, I'm expecting another cold shoulder from my best friends. However, Hermione forces Ron to sit by me. I bite back 'butt out, Hermione,' but only just barely. I know how much this is hurting her. After all, this is only the third time in the history of our friendship that there has been something between us that causes this strife. The first time was with Ron being jealous of me being a Tri-Wizard Champion. Those months were positively hell for us, and Hermione unfortunately was in the middle. The second time was with my dating Ginny. Ron didn't speak to me for a month when he learned that I was with his little sister. Once more, Hermione was in the middle. And now there is this, and yet again, she's in the middle.

"Hi, Harry," she softly says ignoring the scathing look Ron is giving her.

"Hello, Hermione," I reply before sighing. One would think she'd understand one of these days that her butting in doesn't help Ron and me any. We always just work things out. Well, after Ron stops being a stubborn ass that is.

"Did you finish all your summer work?"

"Yeah, for once," I answer, ignoring the terrible strain in her voice. I know this isn't easy for her.

"That's good. Personally, I found—"

"Mione, he doesn't care," Ron gruffly says. "After all, he has bigger problems considering that he couldn't keep it in his—"

"Turn to page 394," Snape's booming baritone voice announces as he briskly walks into the classroom. His dark eyes glance around the room before resting on me. He just barely tilts his head towards me in approval as I for once do as he asks. His eyes then dart to Ron, and the room instantly feels colder. "Mr. Weasley, is there some reason why you have not done as I instructed?"

Ron only glares at him before moodily yanking his Potions book out of his bag and slamming it down on the table. His blue eyes then meet Snape's gaze as if to challenge the older wizard. Slowly, Snape stalks towards the red-haired Gryffindor before leaning forward.

"Turn to page 394, Mister Weasley," Snape hisses glaring at Ron. When the young man does so making as loud of a ruckus as he can, Snape instantly looks feral. "Kindly drop the attitude, Mister Weasley. For I have no care in the world if you and Mr. Potter are fighting because he was not the saint you and Granger made him to be." He whirls around when Ron clenches his teeth angrily. "For this lesson, you will be in groups of three."

"Lovely," Ron mutters loud enough for the class to hear.

For some reason or another, Snape ignores Ron. He continues explaining what we're going to brew, Draught of Clarity, along with the ghastly results that will happen if we botch the potion. I only glance at Hermione and see her soft smile. She obviously has studied this. Even with Ron being a worthless git and my being pants at potions, we should be able to do well on this potion. I go to grab the first ingredient, Billywigs, but Snape interrupts staring at Ron with an odd look.

"Cease at once."

The class instantly follows his order and stares at him. Snape doesn't usually interrupt us like this. But if we think that is odd, then we're in for an awakening.

"Since it seems Mister Weasley has decided to be an idiot this morning, you will all brew this potion individually. Once finished, place your potion on my desk and leave so I may mark it."

I stare at Snape in disbelief. He has to be joking. We have to do this alone now because of Ron? I then glance at my textbook before sighing. There are over seventy-five directions that vary from chopping diagonally to grinding into minute powder. Well, if I can get along with Malfoy for a summer, then I can surely attempt to brew this potion. I just need to concentrate.

Setting off to work, I quickly start to follow the directions. I make no effort to see what Hermione's potion looks like, which I probably should do every now and then. However, I have this insatiable urge to prove to Snape that I can actually brew a potion. I grind the bicorn horn into a minute powder as per step 42's instruction when I suddenly catch Ron throwing an unknown ingredient into my cauldron. I drop my mortar of grounded bicorn horn and reach over to grab Ron's hand to stop him.

"Weasley, Potter!" Snape yells as he quickly stalks towards Ron and me.

I'm two seconds too late, though. A bright white flash instantly envelops the classroom as the ingredient hits my lime green thick Draught of Clarity. Sometime between the flash and now, I end up on my back. As I draw in a breath, I hear a rattle that I know is my pathetic attempt to breathe. I try to glance around the classroom, but all I see is darkness, a terrible pitch-black darkness. It's also rather odd how I hear nothing. There are no screams, no cries for help, any groans, or even moans. Nothing, there is absolutely no sound. It's rather silent, an eerie silence. More of my senses come back to me. I can taste the familiar metallic blood that coats my lips. Something heavy is on top of me, but it doesn't hurt me. It just makes it more difficult to breathe properly. I shudder at once at the thought that this might be a person on top of me because whoever it is feels so cold.

Ever since I found out that I have some maniacal dark wizard after me my first year at Hogwarts, I've been convinced that I'd die by his hands, not like this. I mean, who dies because his best friend is upset with him for supposedly knocking a girl up and being supposedly unfaithful to his little sister? Ron is supposed to be my friend, my best friend in fact. He's not supposed to be my murderer. A sound to my left then gains my attention. Finally, there's someone out there in the darkness. I can't make out what the person is saying because there is this annoying dull roar in my ears. I groan softly and open my eyes again to find out who is out there. My eyes widen at the giant hole above me where the ceiling was.

I feel a gentle cool breeze against my face as more sounds filter in. There's a bird trilling softly somewhere near me. Raspy voices try to speak as more of my classmates regain consciousness. Sounds of dozens or so boots clicking around me makes me groan again.

"Harry," a weak voice gasps.

My dull green eyes try to focus on the blurry figure that is lying on me. Unfortunately, my eyesight is rather horrible so I can't tell if the person is dark haired or not. I draw in another shaky breath, ignoring the rattle in my chest. If I had thought about it, I would have realized how odd it was that I have yet to feel any pain.

"Pr'fessor?" I ask with that chilling rattle.

"No," the weak voice moans. "Sorry, M—"

"Ron," I growl feeling a sudden surge of hatred towards the redhead. There are so many things I would love to snarl towards him. "You jackass," I say before coughing harshly. Ah, there's my pain. I close my eyes and groan loudly. My chest feels as if an elephant is sitting on me, which I guess if it's Ron, then that's not too much of a stretch.

"Potter," a second weak voice rasps near me, "shut...up."

That one without a doubt is Snape. I feel a hand on my arm, which makes me attempt to turn my head towards the person. My green eyes meet Snape's, and we just stare at one another. He is deathly pale with the crimson liquid streaming from numerous cuts to his face, but his eyes are just as intense as always. He wears that 'this is your fault, Potter' look. Well, I'm not going to argue with him. I then glance towards Ron. He looks identical to Snape in his injuries, but he's definitely dirtier. Taking inventory of my own injuries, I strangely notice that I don't feel really that badly injured. I slowly attempt to sit up, only to have Ron and Snape both push me back down.

"Do...that...again, Potter," Snape growls pausing before each word with a soft raspy gasp. He is glaring daggers at me. "I'll...break...your...neck." His dark eyes then dart towards where Ron is before he growls under his breath. "2000...points...from...Gryffindor," he says in his best 'I'm going to kill you both' voice, "for...your," his voice trails off. However, his glare remains, proving that he's still alive.