Harry, exhausted from the trip, had fallen asleep on Sirius's shoulder in Dumbledore's office. His teachers, friends, and family sat around him.
"Albus, what are we going to do?" McGonagall asked.
"I don't know." Dumbledore said softly, staring at the boy. "It's just... so young..."
"Don't!" Hermione shrieked, startling everyone. "Don't talk like that! He's not dead yet, and he's not going to die!"
"Isn't there some way to cure it, Madam Pomfrey?" Sirius asked.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly. "There is no known cure. There is a Muggle method, that sometimes works, but I just don't know..."
"It's called chemotherapy." Hermione explained. "It's... like poison... it kills the cancer faster than it kills you, but it is killing you. So once it kills all the cancer, you have to try to kill it before it kills you."
"That sounds incredibly risky!" Sirius said, sounding indignant.
"It is." Hermione said. "But it's his only hope."
"Stop." Harry mumbled. Everyone looked at him. It seemed he'd awoken. "I'm not dead yet. Just enjoy the time we've got, and pretend it's not happening."
"But, Harry," Sirius said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I can't just... pretend it's not happening. You're... you're my Prongslet. You and Remus... you're all I've got left."
"Then just enjoy the time we've got," Harry said, shifting himself into a sitting position. "And pretend that you're pretending it's not happening."
Sirius laughed weakly. "All right, Prongslet."
Harry nodded off again.
"We should get him up to bed." Ron said.
"I'll take him." Sirius said. "I'm staying with him tonight, at least, anyways."
"How?" Minerva asked.
Sirius changed into a dog, and back again. "That's how."
Minerva nodded. "Try not to wake him."
Sirius nodded back, before gathering Harry into his arms and standing up.
"He's so light." he whispered.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she and Ron stood up to head to Gryffindor tower along with them.
"Come on, then." she sighed. "Let's get him up to bed."
YOU ARE READING
From my Deathbed
FanfictionHarry Potter, The boy who lived, is now the boy on his deathbed. Harry wakes up in the hospital in August before his third year. He has no memory of how he got there. And what's stranger; the Dursleys are being nice to him? Harry learns that he...
