...dle out. Hermione pulled a tissue out of her robes and handed it to him. Harry wrapped it around his wound, blood stained it rapidly. He turned to Hermione and scowled. “I thought you said I’d be fine.” He yelled. Hermione looked shocked and depressed. “I thought I had it right. I really did. The potion should have worked. It should have.”
Harry forgot his anger and sat on the bed beside her. It wasn’t often that Hermione was wrong, in fact this was probably the first time he could remember. It must be hard on her.
He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. But a shot of pain across his chest made him pull back. Harry cringed and grabbed his chest. It felt like his heart was on fire. Hermione noticed the pain and forgot her mood. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Harry opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was an agonised cry as his chest felt like a truck hit it. He fell back onto the bed, his entire body became stiff with only a small twitching in his hands to show he hadn’t gone into full paralysis. “I can’t breath.” Came an agonised gasp.
Hermione stood over him in a panic, what could she do? Nothing. She’d given him an entirely new potion, no one knew the effects, or how to cure it. She jumped to her feet, intending to run for Madam Pomfrey.
to be conti...