97 Sleep Deprivation

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As dawn approached, Harry decided to conclude his session in the virtual room. He had pushed the boundaries of his magical knowledge and needed time to process and apply what he had learned. Stepping out of the virtual realm, he joined his clone in the physical world, feeling a sense of satisfaction at a night well spent.

When his main consciousness merged with the clone, Harry felt an unusual sense of clarity washing over him. The part of him that had worked tirelessly through the night was undoubtedly tired, while the clone that had rested provided a sense of rejuvenation. This merging, admittedly feeling like a poor night's sleep, was still better than staying awake all night. It was a delicate balance, one that Harry was still mastering.

A week later, after forgoing sleep for several nights, Harry entered the Great Hall and made his way to the Hufflepuff table, where he sat across from Susan and Hannah. Since his dramatic rescue of Susan, he had developed a friendly rapport with the two girls, often joining them for study sessions. This morning, upon encountering each other at the entrance, Susan had invited him to join them at their table, an invitation he readily accepted.

Sitting at the Hufflepuff table for the first time, Harry was acutely aware of the numerous gazes directed at him. There were looks of disapproval from his fellow Slytherins and expressions of surprise from the other houses. A Slytherin mingling with Hufflepuffs was indeed an unusual sight in the halls of Hogwarts. Unperturbed by the attention, Harry focused on his breakfast, lifting his spoon to eat his porridge.

However, as he did so, his hand twitched unexpectedly, and the spoon clattered to the table. Shocked, Harry stared at his trembling hand, a wave of concern washing over him. 'What's happening?' he thought, puzzled and slightly alarmed.

Nigel's voice, laced with his typical blend of sarcasm and underlying concern, echoed in Harry's mind. "That, Master Harry, is what we in the common vernacular call sleep deprivation."

Harry, trying to mask his discomfort, picked up the spoon again, but his hand trembled once more, making it clear that his body was reacting to the lack of proper rest. He set the spoon down, deciding it was best not to draw more attention to himself.

Susan, noticing his struggle, leaned in with a look of concern. "Harry, are you alright? You look a bit pale," she said, her voice low and filled with worry.

Hannah, too, turned her attention to Harry, her brows furrowing in concern. "Yeah, you don't look so good. Did you get enough sleep?"

Harry, attempting to deflect their concern with a weak smile, replied, "I guess I've just been a bit busy with studies and... other things."

Nigel, never one to miss an opportunity for a witty remark, even in serious situations, added, "And by 'other things', he means experimenting with sleep patterns in a manner that would make even a vampire wince."

Trying to change the subject, Harry turned to Susan. "So, what are we studying today? I heard there's a Herbology quiz coming up."

Susan, still eyeing him with a mix of concern and curiosity, replied, "Yeah, we were planning to review for that. But are you sure you're up to it, Harry? You really don't look well."

Hannah nodded in agreement, her expression echoing Susan's concern. "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey. She could help."

Harry, reluctant to admit his fatigue and the toll it was taking on him, brushed off their suggestions. "I'll be fine. Just a bit of tiredness, nothing more."

Nigel's tone took on a rare note of anger. "Master Harry, your symptoms are not at the beginning phase. This is because you are technically getting sleep, so your body missed a few memos of sleep deprivation and only now realized what is going on. If you try to continue this way, you won't be able to even walk. Your hand is twitching because your nervous system is out of sync due to the irregular sleep patterns. It's a classic sign of severe fatigue."

Harry listened to Nigel, his expression growing more serious. "Divide part of my consciousness and have him sleep," he suggested, trying to find a workaround.

Nigel exhaled, his tone a mix of frustration and concern. "Master Harry, splitting your consciousness like that is not a sustainable solution. You're pushing your limits."

Harry, determined to continue his routine, cut him off. "I'll be fine. I'll sleep tonight. Just a bit more time."

Susan and Hannah, overhearing bits of Harry's mumbling, exchanged worried glances. "Harry, who are you talking to?" Susan asked gently.

"Just... going over some study notes in my head," Harry lied smoothly, forcing a smile. "Really, I'm fine."

The conversation at the Hufflepuff table shifted as other students joined in, discussing the upcoming Herbology quiz. Harry participated, but his contributions were sporadic and lacked his usual insight. The lack of proper sleep was evidently taking its toll, his thoughts slower and less coherent.

As the day progressed, Harry's condition didn't improve. His movements became sluggish, and he struggled to concentrate in his classes. His usual sharp wit and quick responses were replaced by delayed reactions and half-hearted replies. Even Nigel's sarcastic comments failed to elicit the usual amused response from Harry.

Susan and Hannah exchanged worried glances as they observed Harry's deteriorating condition. The usual sparkle in his eyes was replaced by a glazed, distant look, and his movements were uncharacteristically sluggish. "Should we take him to Madam Pomfrey?" Susan whispered, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

"I don't know," Hannah responded, biting her lip. "He keeps insisting he's fine, but he's clearly not himself."

Justin Finch-Fletchley approached Harry with a puzzled expression on his face. "Potter, do you know the best way to handle Devil's Snare? I'm a bit confused about it."

Harry, who under normal circumstances would have given a quick and accurate response, struggled to form his words. His eyes, which usually held a spark of intelligence, now seemed clouded and unfocused. He stared at Justin, his mouth opening and closing as he attempted to string together a coherent sentence. "I—Devil's... the Snare, you see, it's... um, light and, err... no, not light, I mean..." His voice trailed off into mumbled gibberish, his thoughts clearly scattered.

Justin, taken aback by Harry's incoherent mumbling, exchanged a worried glance with Susan and Hannah. "Potter, are you alright? You're not making any sense."

Hannah leaned in closer to Harry, her concern evident. "Harry, you really don't look well. Maybe you should rest."

Nigel's voice rang in Harry's mind, his tone a mix of admonish and worry. "Master Harry, if this is your attempt at playing the mysterious and enigmatic wizard, I'd say it's a resounding failure. Might I suggest a novel approach called 'sleep'?"

Harry, struggling to maintain his focus, tried to brush off their concerns. "I'm... I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

Susan, not convinced by Harry's weak assurance, stood up. "I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey. This isn't normal, Harry. You need help."

Harry tried to protest, but his words came out slurred and disjointed. "No, really, I'm... I can handle it. Just need to... focus."

Nigel, his voice now filled with a rare note of sternness, intervened. "Master Harry, even the most brilliant wizard can't function without proper rest. You're not just risking your health; you're endangering your magical abilities."

Despite Nigel's warning, Harry stubbornly tried to stand up, only to stumble slightly, his balance off. Hannah quickly reached out to steady him, her expression filled with worry.

"Come on, Harry. You can barely stand. Let's get you some help," Hannah insisted, her voice firm yet gentle.

As they escorted Harry out of the classroom, the students watched in concern and confusion. The sight of the usually composed and witty Harry Potter being helped out of the room was unsettling and sparked a flurry of whispered speculations.

Outside the classroom, Susan and Hannah supported Harry as they made their way towards the infirmary. Harry's steps were unsteady, his usual grace replaced by a clumsy shuffle. Nigel's voice continued to echo in his mind, a mix of concern and frustration. "Master Harry, I implore you to consider the consequences of your actions. You're playing a dangerous game with your health."

Harry, his mind foggy and his thoughts scattered, could barely process Nigel's words. He felt as if he was moving through a thick fog, every step requiring a monumental effort.

As they reached the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey immediately noticed Harry's condition. Her expression quickly turned from surprise to concern as she ushered him onto a bed. "What happened? He looks completely out of sorts."

Susan explained, her voice laced with worry. "He's been like this since morning. We think he hasn't been sleeping properly."

Madam Pomfrey, her brows furrowed in concern, began examining Harry. "Sleep deprivation can be serious, especially for young wizards. Their magical energy can become erratic."

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