Harry felt his life drain out of him in the instant that spell hit his chest. He collapsed to the classroom floor and clutched at his throat desprelately.

He couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried, his lungs were too stiff, his limps too heavy and he felt exactly like he did six months ago. When he died. But only this time he didn't feel the death for only a millosecond, he was alive. He was alive and having to feel death. He could feel his lungs cave in and empty. Then he couldn't breathe in. Dead people don't breathe. But alive people who are dead need to breathe.

Hermione was speaking to him about something, but he couldn't hear. It was so cold and the edges of his vision was blurring.

"What the fuck did you do to him!" Ron was yelling, his wand pressing hard into a students neck.
"Oh he's just reliving his death. He deserves it. He murdered the best wizard in the world" They said, grinning.

Ron felt rage fire into his veins but he was being pulled back and restrained by Blaise and Draco. McGonagall took off where Ron left.

Harry was crawling at the ground, his lungs were burning and tears were dripping off his face but he wasn't aware of that. All he could feel was death, complete emptiness swirling round his heart. All he could feel was pain. So much pain.

"Breathe Harry, Breathe! Please just breathe" Hermione begged, tears pouring down her own face.

Then Harry gasped, he breathed in some deep breaths and broke into sobs. He was gathered into Hermione's arms and he stayed there crying for what felt like ages.