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Prologue: Help Will Always Be Given At Hogwarts, To Those Who Ask For It

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- Sometime next week -

 

Harry had caught what he thought was just a cold, but the ever faithful Dobby was having none of it. He could see that it was more that just the flu. So he took Harry's hand in his and lead him out of the Slytherin Common Room and along the passage. With Harry grumbling all the way.

 

They were just entering the Entrance Hall via the stairway leading up from the dungeons, when the front doors opened and in came three people. Harry (after learning to trust his senses) was able to distinguish between how many people were around or near him now. Yes. Three people had entered the Hall.

 

'Molly, dear?'
'Yes Arthur, I see.'
'Bloody trai-'
'Watch your mouth, boy!'

 

'Dobby?'
'Harry, Dobby must be taking you up to see Mistress Poppy, sir! I will not Apperate with young sir in this state. You is not well, Harry. And it would makes you feel even worse!'
'Okay Dobby,' Harry replied tiredly, 'only go slow, please.'

 

As they stood there, the three people watched as the House-Elf helped the young Harry Potter (who looked to both adult Weasleys, to be quite ill) ascend the stairs. While Ron just stood there, in between his parents with his arms folded across his chest and watched through narrowed eyes.

 

When he was half way up the stairs, Harry quickly grabbed the banister to steady himself, when a bout of dizziness overtook him. Then without warning Harry's eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled backwards. Quick as whipping out his wand, Arthur ran forwards and caught the boy, just before he hit the stone steps.

 

'Oh!' Dobby cried, as he too rushed back down the steps and then knelt down beside his fallen friend, who was now lying safe in Arthur's strong arms.
'Excuse me,' said Arthur to Dobby in a soft tone, 'but why didn't you use your magic to stop him from falling?'

 

'Dobby couldn't be taking that risk Master Arthur Weasley, sir!' Surprising Arthur, that the Elf knew his name. 'But Dobby does not want to be casting his magic at the moment, or it will make Harry's condition worse, sir.'
'Where were you taking Harry, my good Elf?'
'We was on our way to visit Mistress Poppy, in the Hospital Wing, sir.'

 

Nodding, Arthur stood up supporting Harry carefully in his arms. He then turned to his wife.
'Molly, will you be alright taking Ronald to see Dumbledore?'
Molly walked over to her husband and cupped Harry's head with her hand, 'You go and help with Harry. I'll let Albus know of what has happened.'

 

Giving his loving wife a quick kiss on the cheek, he turned and followed Dobby up the stairs, while Molly turned back to her scowling son.
'Come along Ron,' she said, placing her hand upon his shoulder.

 

'What was that, Ron?' Molly asked they neared the gargoyle, guarding the stairway to Albus's office.
'I said, why can't you see that Potter is faking it?!'
Molly shook her head thinking, where did we go wrong with him?