Hello again. I tried to get this out as soon as I could, but I got overwhelmed by homework and stress, and needing a break from this story. Sorry!

As I promised, the humor is back! We have more fun scaring Malfoy and other such things, so I hope you like!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own anything associated with it.

Pseudomortis

Part 7 - I Told You So

By KZerina

***

Harry's eyes fluttered open, and all he saw was a blank white slab with a blurry outline. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes roughly, leaving a sting behind. Harry looked around. Had his spirit gone to the realm where un-ghosted souls were—with his parents?

No, it couldn't be. His parents would be there right? Yes, of course they would. Why wouldn't they be? But if this wasn't another realm, where was he? He looked around again. There were shelves—shelves with antidotes, potions, and other magical remedies perched precariously on top of one another. The Hospital Wing had those kinds of things. Was he there?

Harry sat up and found that his hands hit a soft mattress, and a fluffy pillow sat behind him. The walls and floor fit the description of the Hogwarts infirmary. He saw a door on the far side of the wall and decided to see where it led. He hopped carefully down off the bed, half-expecting an excruciating pain in his side, but it never came, as though he had never been hit with the killing curse.

He tottered to the door, a little delirious, having just woken up, and through, only he didn't go through. He smashed his nose into the door, just as a loud metallic crash sounded from the other side of the wooden door. Harry rubbed his nose vigorously and, out of pure habit, pulled his hand away, looking at his fingers for any trace of blood. Seeing none, Harry pressed his hand to the door, attempting to get it to pass through to no avail.

After his unsuccessful attempt to go through the door, Harry reached for the knob. Slowly, but surely, he rotated it, unsure of what to expect on the other side. He opened the door silently and peered out through a small gap. There were Ron, Hermione, and the twins surrounding Madam Pomfrey who was mending a wound on Ginny's arm Harry slipped out the door, looking back at it, wondering if it was specially designed so ghosts could not penetrate its walls, and shrugged.

He turned his attention back to the ring of people across the room. He approached the ring of people and pushed his way into it between Fred and George, bumping into one of them (Harry couldn't tell which.) Harry looked at Ginny and—wait a minute…he'd bumped into the twin. He couldn't touch them.

Harry, bewildered, began prodding the boy's shoulder.

The twin whipped around and pointed at his counterpart. "Fred! What are you—Harry?" he asked, quietly and unsure.

Harry, George's finger in his face, pinched the finger between his index finger and thumb and began bobbing it around as if it were on a string and Harry the puppeteer controlling it. Harry, Fred, and George watched it with genuine astonishment.

Fred began pushing four fingers into Harry's back. Harry released George's finger and looked over his shoulder at Fred's prodding appendages with continuing amazement. Fred looked at his fingers and up at Harry. "Woah" was all he could think to say.

A loud thud turned their attention to the center of the ring. Ginny had slumped to the floor, unconscious. She had obviously fainted, probably because of Harry.

Harry, however, didn't have much time to react to Ginny's faint; his lips were captured in an intense, emotional kiss. Harry staggered backwards, barely holding his balance. He subconsciously put his hands around the waist of the one kissing him so she wouldn't lose her balance either.

Harry put two and two together to get four. The kisser had to be Hermione. Ginny was on the floor, and surely Madam Pomfrey wouldn't suddenly kiss him, especially if she had kept him in the Hospital Wing and tended to his empty shell of a body while his consciousness was out gallivanting.

He wouldn't have had a problem with it, except that Hermione was going out with Ron from what he could tell. Sure, she was a great kisser, but he didn't want to offend Ron by kissing back, so he didn't. Instead, he shot nervous glances in Ron's direction, though not pushing Hermione away.

Hermione, however, pulled away and looked Harry in his widened, green eyes. She ducked her head back into her shoulders and covered her face, which was now redder than all the Weasleys' hair combined, with her hands. Harry felt himself flush as well, but not nearly as badly.

Luckily for both of them, Madam Pomfrey decided to break up the horribly awkward moment by waking up poor Ginny. Harry could only stare at the ground; Hermione went to the wall and sunk to the floor, placing her face in her knees.

Harry felt everyone's eyes on him to see his reaction, which was to stand in one, place and look like a prat, just staring at the floor. Harry couldn't work out what could have possessed Hermione to pull a stunt like that, especially when she was attached to the third member of the Trio.

He had never been so confused in his life. He didn't know what to do, say, or even think. Hermione had been so excited to see him that she couldn't hold it in and kissed him. It's logical and definitely possible, and that's how Harry decided to pass it off. She was just extremely excited to see him alive and kissed him out of excessive joy. That was it; it had to be.

Harry turned his attention away from the strange thoughts in his head and put it on the flame-haired girl on the floor in front of him. She had just woken up and was staring, wide-eyed, at Harry like he was a body risen from the grave, which in a sense he was, only not rotting like a typical Muggle zombie.

"Yes, dear, he's alive," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "Now, please get back in the chair so I can heal you."

Ginny sat as if she were petrified, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Harry. She didn't give in to Madam Pomfrey's urges to get in the chair, nor did she acknowledge that the nurse was saying anything at all. Fred and George went over and placed their sister in the not-so-comfortable wooden chair against the wall where Madam Pomfrey patched up the small abrasion on her arm. She winced, breaking out of her trance.

"Good," approved Madam Pomfrey. "Now for you, Harry. I'll give you a quick once-over, and you are free to go."

"But, Madam Pomfrey," interjected Fred, "doesn't he have to stay here for five days?"

"I'm not trying to set the record for most nights spent in the hospital wing," Harry replied. "It's not exactly to my fancy."

"But, Harry," George whispered, "the Slytherins don't know you're alive. Why don't we have a little fun in the first match of the season?"

"Yeah," Fred added, "if you stay here until Saturday, then the Slytherins still won't know, and, well, I think you see our point."

Harry looked back and forth between the twins' mischievous grins and glittering blue eyes before a similar expression crawled onto his face too. He could give Malfoy the fright of his life by suddenly being alive, and he couldn't possibly pass up the glorious opportunity if he could help it.

"It's tempting," Harry murmured, impishly, "very tempting. How do we get Madam Pomfrey to agree?"

"Leave that to us," George assured.

Fred and George ambushed Madam Pomfrey and immediately began persuading her to keep him in the hospital wing until Saturday's game. The one thing he heard them say ("You don't want to have him back in here, because he didn't have enough energy since he wasn't here long enough.") seemed to convince her, though maybe she just said it to get them off her back.

Madam Pomfrey ushered the six students into the room Harry had exited when he had woken up. She sat him on the bed and began examining him, his breathing, his heartbeat, almost anything he could think of that she'd need to check after he'd been asleep for a whole week. Harry sat there wondering if it was ever going to end. He passively waited through every instruction and followed it exactly.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey deemed him healthy and had him sit up in the bed, sending Ron to the dormitory to grab a set of Harry's pajamas. The nurse sent to the kitchens for food to make Harry's stomach cease its mighty roars, since Harry had not eaten since their picnic with Hagrid after the Quidditch trials a week ago.

He was allowed privacy to change into the gray sweat pants and sleeveless white t-shirt that were his pajamas and climb back onto the bed. Everyone filed back into the room and took chairs around him. The twins had fetched Lee Jordan, and he had been permitted to join the rather large group of people in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey set a tray of food in front of Harry who stared at it hungrily as his stomach let out another enormous growl.

Harry, his nerves twitching with pent up energy from the weeklong slumber, picked up the silverware and shoveled the delicious kitchen food into his watering mouth. He excused himself for being so rude, though he knew no one cared.

Hermione at one point stood up and left with Ginny to get homework. Harry didn't blame her. It must have been pretty boring watching him stuff his face. During the time Hermione and Ginny were gone, Harry let out an involuntary burp, excusing himself politely.

Ron, eager for competition, challenged that he could burp better than Harry and added his own masterpiece, as he called it. Soon, Fred, George, and Lee joined in the contest that had previously consisted of only Ron.

When Ron had exuded a particularly large belch, the girls returned, carrying high stacks of schoolbooks.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed. "What was that all about?"

"They were doing the same thing!" Ron defended, motioning at the other four boys, all of whom were laughing behind their hands.

"Don't look at me, Ron," Harry scolded. "I burped, excused myself, and you challenged it. Until your brothers and Lee joined in, you were having a contest with yourself."

"Yeah," Fred sniggered, "and we didn't get caught."

Hermione looked disapprovingly at them and set her pile of books on the floor by her chair, and Ginny set her stack by Harry's bed, pulling his wand out of her pocket and setting it on top.

Harry thanked her and continued to clean his plate of every scrap and crumb on the shiny surface. When he was finished, he neatly stacked the dishes and silverware, and Madam Pomfrey returned to clear them away.

The group sat around talking, and before they realized, it had come time for the Halloween feast.

"Oh, sorry, Harry," Hermione said, "I'll stay here with you if you'd like."

"Yeah, me too," Ron offered.

"It's all right. I'll be fine," Harry answered. "After having slept for a week, I don't need to gorge myself on candy and bounce off the walls on a sugar high, which means I don't need the Halloween feast."

"But that's what usually cheers you up on Halloween," Hermione continued, seeming almost desperate.

"Not this year," Harry rejoined. "And by the way, you can say I told you so."

Hermione just looked at him. "Why?"

"Because you were right. I'm not dead. You can say it."

Hermione stared straight into his gleaming eyes. She shook her head. "No, I don't need to. You know I was right and that's all I need to be right. I'm not going to be so immature that I need to say it."

Harry smiled at her, thankfully, not really wanting her to say it, but giving her the option because he knew he deserved it for doubting her so much.

"Well, see you later then," she said gently as she reached over and hugged him, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

She seemed almost reluctant to let go. Harry told himself he imagined it as he sent his two best friends off. After they had gone, he picked up his first book and found a leaf of parchment with Hermione's neat handwriting set in the binding. It was a sheet with the assignments on it. Of course Hermione would write down all the assignments so he wouldn't have to ask. She was always so diligent like that. Harry couldn't help but smile.

He opened the book in his lap to the assigned pages and began to scratch away with the eagle feather quill and plain black ink. He had just finished his second assignment when suddenly a whip-crack echoed through the room, and Harry jumped, almost knocking the inkbottle to the floor. When he looked up though, all he saw was a tray on a table at the foot of the bed. Another series of whip-cracks left palettes of many different foods on the tray. If he hadn't been so shocked, his mouth would probably been watering profusely.

Harry set his finished project on the table beside him and moved to the end of the bed to inspect that which the House Elves left behind in his room. It was food that had been made for the feast.

He had told Ron and Hermione he didn't need to be on a sugar high since he had all the energy from his extended sleep, but they sent him food with the House Elves anyway. One corner of Harry's mouth lifted into a smile of gratitude while the other remained emotionless.

Harry sat for a few minutes, staring at the food, before he shook his head and selected a few cookies to munch on while he continued on his Charms homework.

Soon Ron and Hermione returned from the feast, grinning happily as they trotted through the portal of the secluded room.

"What'd you think, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I told you I didn't need sugar," Harry replied shortly.

"We felt bad leaving you here by yourself," Hermione explained, "so we went to the kitchens with your Cloak and employed the House Elves to bring some food up to you, thanking them profusely of course."

Harry looked her in the eye intensely. "You used my Cloak?"

Ron shrank back and turned slightly red, no longer smiling as he had been for the past few minutes. Hermione looked back at him with only the lightest tinge of pink painting her cheeks.

"Yes," she answered, continuing to hold his gaze.

"I don't mind, but I'd prefer you ask before doing so." Harry took his eyes away from Hermione's and set them back on the book in his lap.

Hermione sat on the bed next to him and leaned on his shoulder, dangerously close to his face. "But if we had asked, then we wouldn't have been able to surprise you."

Harry felt a tiny blush warm his cheeks as he looked at the girl on his shoulder. He smiled at her and gave her a short one-armed hug that made her cheeks turn a light pink as well.

Harry went back to his homework and scratched a few things on the parchment paper. He asked Hermione how to say a certain charm correctly and, after a few exploded oatmeal cookies, he managed to enlarge it with the Engorgement Charm, much to Hermione's great joy and exuberance.

Later, Fred and George returned, bearing feast food as well.

"We would have gotten here sooner, Harry," said George, "but we had to hide out from Filch."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, "he was patrolling the corridors in front of the kitchens for quite some time before we could sneak past him and that stupid cat of his."

"Great, more food. Just what I need," grumbled Harry. "You guys want any? I've got more than enough."

Ron and his two brothers immediately pounced at the chance to eat. Hermione flopped into a chair and under her breath muttered something that sounded very much like 'pigs,' which made Harry stifle a snorting laugh as he remembered his gluttonous cousin, Dudley, and hoping the Weasley brothers would never look like that.

***

Throughout the rest of the week, Hermione continued to bring his books and assignments written in her immaculate handwriting. His best friends sat with him as much as they could and helped him with what he needed since he'd missed the in-class explanations.

He told Katie Bell to make sure the Quidditch team practiced and to run the practices as his proxy. Apparently all went well since he didn't get any reports from any of the remaining six players except about Lance Starrz's arrogance and attempts to take over, but Katie sorted that out and set him straight.

Soon enough, Saturday arrived. Ron and Hermione brought him his Invisibility Cloak, and he headed out to the locker rooms after he finished his breakfast of grilled ham and scrambled eggs. He changed into his Quidditch robes and slipped his wand into his arm guard. He never knew when he might need it. He checked his Firebolt to be sure it was in perfect working order and then, waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

The girls arrived first, and Katie relinquished her proxy position back to Harry. The twins came next with grins showing their imaginings of Malfoy's face when he saw Harry resurrected. Lance showed up last, strutting like a peacock trying to attract a hen. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the proper captain. He looked like he was going to faint.

"What? You didn't tell him I was alive?" Harry smirked.

"Oh," Fred mused, "must have slipped our minds."

The whole team laughed hysterically, except for Lance who looked furious at not being informed of this minor detail.

"Get your robes on, all of you," Harry ordered. "The game begins in fifteen minutes."

The team, when ready, stood at the entrance to the pitch to wait for the call of the teams. Harry's nerves jolted with excitement—the first game of the season, being back in the air on his Firebolt, Malfoy's priceless expression when he sees Harry alive.

Lee Jordan called the Slytherins first. Harry was sure they'd be pretty smug since they thought the replacement Gryffindor Seeker couldn't be all that good at playing his position.

"And for Gryffindor! Chasers Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson!" Lee announced. "Beaters Fred and George Weasley! Keeper Lance Starzz! And the not-so-new Seeker and Captain HARRY POTTER!!!"

The stands filled with Gryffindors cascaded with ecstatic cheers, and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, once they realized what had happened, cheered loudly, too. Harry exchanged laughing looks with the rest of the team before turning to the fish-mouthed Slytherin captain and Seeker.

Draco Malfoy, who rejected sending a letter to his father about the murder of Harry, was now dumbfounded at the sight before his eyes. The rest of the team was sending astonished looks around their team circle.

"Captains, shake hands," directed Madam Hooch.

Harry stuck out and unwavering hand immediately. Draco slowly offered his wildly shaking one which Harry had to take since he was so slow, letting go as soon as he could since he didn't want to be touching Draco for very long.

"Mount your brooms!"

Both teams mounted and zoomed into the air, though the Slytherins were still rather awestruck. The Quaffle was in the air and the Bludgers and Snitch released and the game began.

The Slytherin team was nowhere near at their best. Gryffindors took immediate possession of the Quaffle and were almost unhindered as they made their way to the goal. Draco didn't even look for the Snitch—only at the reborn Harry Potter on the broom nearest his brand new Nimbus 2004, the newest racing broom on the market with which he bought his way into the captains position.

"You seem a little off your marks today, Malfoy," Harry taunted.

"What?"

"I said you seem a little off your marks today," Harry repeated.

"Oh," Malfoy mumbled dazedly back.

Harry, taking advantage of Malfoy's flabbergasted state, decided to do a Wronski Feint, hoping Malfoy would follow—perhaps making a bit of a challenge for Harry in the game. He glanced at Malfoy to make certain he was paying attention and zoomed towards the hard ground below. Malfoy, after a moment's pause, dived after Harry.

In mid-plunge, Harry glimpsed the sleek, fast Snitch just ahead of him. He reached a hand out in front of him and snatched it roughly out of the air braking to an abrupt halt, swinging his Firebolt parallel to the ground.

He was about to lift the Snitch high into the air when Malfoy blasted past him, obviously missing the fact that Harry had the Snitch and had stopped with it clutched tightly in his hand. Harry watched as Malfoy hurtled quickly toward the ground. Harry jerked an accentuated wince as Malfoy slammed the handle of his Nimbus 2004 into the solid ground and slid down to smash his face into the dirt.

Harry looked at the incapacitated Seeker and at the small, winged ball in his hand. He held it up at ear height and said, "I got it."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and announced a Gryffindor victory. The stands erupted with cheers again as they had when Harry had been announced as Gryffindor Seeker. The team members who had played for Gryffindor in years past bombarded Harry with themselves, almost knocking him off balance. Lance came reluctantly, the unwilling expression on his face served as a give away to his true feelings of attempting not to look stupid by holding back when his team had just won the first match of the Quidditch season.

After a bit, the seven crimson-clad teenagers headed to the locker room to store their equipment and robes. No sooner had they arrived in the locker room, than Harry was accosted by an overly excited Hermione. She threw her arms around Harry's neck and hugged him tightly. Harry felt as though Hermione was inadvertently strangling him.

"Hermione!" Harry gasped. He didn't really want her to let go, but if she didn't, Ron might get angry and do something he'd regret, or she might choke him to death.

Hermione, upon hearing Harry's somewhat stifled cry of suffocation, immediately released and pulled away, biting her lower lip.

"Thanks," Harry said, coarsely and rubbing his throat absently.

"Sorry," Hermione said a little red in the cheeks. "It's just that you won and—"

Ron coughed heavily across the room, making Hermione's face turn to a more intense hue as her beautiful cinnamon sugar eyes scanned the floor as though searching it for a lost item.

"Uh, Hermione? Didn't you say something about going to the library after the game?" Ron asked as though he were trying to get her out of the locker room.

"Oh, yeah," she replied and hastily made her way back to the castle.

"DON'T FORGET TO COME BACK!! WE'RE HAVING A PARTY LATER!!" yelled Fred after her retreating back.

Harry phased out after that. Questions filled his mind, and it was unable to answer. She had kissed him the other day, and now she nearly choked the life out of him. Why would she even think of doing that? And why hadn't Ron mentioned anything about either of Hermione's outbursts?

"Right, Harry?" came Ron's voice, snapping him back to reality.

"Huh, wha—? Oh, right…um…yeah, what he said," Harry replied somewhat sheepishly.

"Yeah, anyway, I'm going to go see what Hermione's up to in the library," Ron explained as he set off after the third member of their Hogwarts famed trio.

Harry shook his head to clear it of the odd questions that had been sifting through it. He cleaned up from the match and headed up to the dormitories with his Firebolt to store it. There he found Ron who said he'd left Hermione to her homework and left it at that.

Harry nodded and continued to store his Firebolt.

"Harry?"

Harry took his green eyes from his broom, giving Ron his undivided attention.

"I've been meaning to ask you…"

Harry knew what was coming. Ron was going to ask him if he, Harry, was okay with the fact that he and Hermione were dating, and he was completely ready to answer a confident yes.

"I…um, well, I was going to ask before, but under the circumstances…um, why didn't I make Keeper?"

Harry faltered, taken aback by the unexpected question that issued from Ron's mouth. "Oh, well," Harry managed, "we came to a pretty much unanimous decision that you just didn't fly like a Keeper. Sure you were really good and all, but that just wasn't the position you were meant to play."

"Oh," Ron put simply.

"But, my suggestion to you is that you try-out next year. I think we'll have a nice Chaser position waiting in the wings, just for you."

"Really? Chaser?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry nodded with a grin spread at his friend. Ron nodded as well with much satisfaction. He seemed as though Ron was done interrogating until he asked one more totally unexpected thing.

"When are you going to ask Hermione out?"

***

Well, there was the last part of "Pseudomortis." Kind of like a cliffhanger, but not. I have some ideas for a sequel so when I feel like writing it, I'll get that up, but if I get enough reviews and/or e-mails for the sequel as soon as possible, I'll try and get it out sooner. Until then, I have a couple of other stories in the works so I'm going to do those.

Notes to my reviewers:

Promy: It's all right you didn't review. It just makes me happy when I get one. For instance, I was just mad at someone, I found I had a review and it made me feel good. The warm fuzzy feeling, you know?

            You were right, Harry came back, and nothing really happened with their relationship, but I did have a doozy of an embarrassment didn't I?

Hollie: I'm really glad you liked the story and also really sorry for getting this out so late. I was bombarded with homework and had no time to work on it. I hope you liked the ending! I apologize again!

Special Thanks to:

Author: Mesozoic Flower

Non-Authors: Kat, Razormikey, Kato, Taylee, and QuadropheniaA

So, did you like it, dislike it, love it, hate it? Please review! Since this particular story won't have any more parts, I'll e-mail you my responses to your reviews if I have an e-mail I can get to.

Thanks again to all of my readers!

I bid thee all adieu, until next time!

KZerina