I do not own Harry Potter. The only thing I own in this is the plot and my OC, Addison Rivera.
Addison Rivera was just barely dozing in the Gryffindor common room when the portrait slammed shut and broken sobs reached her ears. She was awake in seconds, eyes wide as the green eyed messy raven hair collapsed onto the sofa, not even a glance her away. Tears ran down his cheeks in a never ending stream and for a moment, Addison thought it was because of Umbridge's detention, but he only had a faint scar from his detention two weeks ago. He hadn't had another one since.
Addison had had a small crush on the Boy Who Lived ever since her first year, when he had quite literally ran into her when turning a corner, and had then proceeded to help her stack her pile of 700 page books again, and, despite her protest, had carried them to her next class for her as an apology. They shared brief nods of greeting ever since, but in the last five years, it was obvious Harry Potter was not as aware of her as she was of him.
She closed her book softly, setting it on the floor as she survived the boy. His cheek was bleeding from what looked like a ring had cut his cheek from a slap. A bruise was starting to form on it as well. His glasses were broken and his leg was obviously badly hurt, he had limped all the way to the couch and now had it propped up.
Addison had never known Harry to cry, even when Lockhart had taken all the bones from his arm and he had to have it regrown. But these tears weren't tears of pain. They were tears of heartbreak.
Addison rose from her chair and knelt by the fire, turning the coals over and adding a piece or two of wood to make it blaze brighter. She conjured a washrag and then walked slowly to the broken figure on the sofa, hand on his arm to alert him of her presence.
He didn't flinch away from her, allowing her to gently rub the blood from his cheek, then casting Epesky and watching as the small crack healed itself. Then she repaired his glasses and lightly ran her hand over his trouser clad leg.
"What happened to it?" She whispered, noticing him flinching.
"Kick to the shin," He muttered, eyes screwed shut as if to block her out.
Glad that it wasn't a major injury, she cast the Healing Charm again and the raven haired boy slumped in relief. He still cried softly.
"Do you want to talk about what happened, Harry?" She asked, folding her arms on the edge of the couch and resting her chin on them.
"No," He snapped sharply. Addison sighed, but nodded slowly.
"Can you walk, or do you want me to help you to your dorm?"
"I'm fine, Rivera," He barked and stood abruptly, nearly running for the stairs. Addison sighed and gathered her books, going to her own dormitory.
She wasn't daft, she was sure it had been his one month girlfriend Cho Chang. The girl had cracked after Cedric Diggory's death last year and was either crying or blowing up all the time now. Mind you, she didn't hate the girl; she had been thrilled when she and Harry started dating, convinced that his ever the hero nature would help Cho heal. But this must not have been the case.
Harry Potter ignored Addison's presence at all times after their encounter in the common room. The next time she saw him he was laughing with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, his arm around Cho's shoulders while the girl laughed with Marietta Edgecombe. Addison burned with fury for the girl, but had silently taken her seat at the head of the Gryffindor table, all alone. She'd never had any friends, of course. So why would Harry Potter want to confide his troubles to her?
Addison purposely stayed in the common room the next time she saw Cho and Harry slip out of dinner together and him not come back by curfew. She was curled in the cushion hidden in the fire place, and when the Fat Lady's portrait slammed shut at midnight again, she watched as he silently fell to the couch, his glasses broken again, his hand bleeding from Merlin knew what, and cradling his arm.
She cleaned him up as he watched, his short grunts of pain the only sound between them.
"You need to leave her, Harry," Addison said softly.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Rivera."
"Yes, you do."
"No, you don't. I'm fine," He snapped, again storming up to the boys dorms.
Addison cleaned the blood off the sofa in silence. She didn't sleep that night.
It was two months before she had to clean him up again. He had bruises all over his chest and back. Addison cleared them silently.
"I'm sorry this is happening to you."
"Nothing is happening to me, Rivera."
"Addison," She whispered.
"What?"
"My name is Addison."
He didn't storm up to his bed that night. He Vanished the rags and bucket for her, bid her goodnight, and walked up silently, the sound of his dorm door clicking shut cutting through the common room.
The next morning, he acknowledged her in the hall on the way to breakfast.
"Good morning," His voice was dull, a silent whisper, and when Addison looked at him, she knew he had been crying again. She nodded to him.
"Good morning, Harry," She said. He didn't say anything further, and when they got to the Great Hall, he plastered what Addison knew was a fake smile and laughed with his friends, kissing Cho Chang good morning.
Addison didn't miss when Cho pinched his wrist and he winced. Nor did she miss Cho's satisfied smirk.
He came back bloody that night. He had scratches up and down his arms and his white shirt was torn. Addison growled softly.
"Why won't you leave Cho?" She whispered. Harry didn't look at her as she removed his shirt and cleaned his scratches before healing them. She sat in the floor at his feet as she sewed his shirt back together, like her Mum had taught her.
"I love her," Harry whispered back, eyes staying on the fire. Addison sighed.
"I don't think that's true," She said. "I think you bonded over Cedric's death last year, but Cho is still mentally damaged, and you make excuses for her because of that. But nothing gives her the right to do this to you, Harry. Why don't you fight back?"
He chuckled without humor.
"If I did, I'd be the one in trouble. It's perfectly fine for a girl to physically harm a boy, but not the other way around."
"Bull," Addison said hotly, "It is never ok for anyone to do anything like this."
"Not everybody agrees, Addison."
"Why don't you just leave her?"
"I can't."
Addison growled, and finished her sewing in silence.
Harry was still in the common room when she left.
She stopped staying up for him. At least, in the common room. She went to bed when the other girls went to bed. And she laid awake, waiting for the portrait hole to open and slam shut, and then she crept to the stairs, see Harry look around as if expecting her to be there to heal his broken body before he went up to bed and made something up about a grand night with Cho to Ron.
But she wasn't and he sat by the fire, crying softly, his wand shaking as he healed himself.
Addison barely held herself down to the steps.
The next morning, Cho and Harry's raised voices were all that could be heard throughout the Great Hall, though neither was in the Great Hall. No, they were in the corridor outside the Great Hall, obviously Harry's silent attempt to keep this quiet, but Cho must have had other ideas.
Her loud cry was what propelled Addison to get up from the table and run out of the Great Hall, just in time to see Cho start punching and scratching and kicking Harry as he fell back against the wall, refusing to fight back.
Addison was the one that yanked the older girl off of him, and Addison was the one that held his broken body as he sobbed into her shoulder.
The Weasley's and Hermione Granger watched in shock as Addison Rivera, who none of them thought Harry knew, held their Boy Who Lived as he shook with sobs.
Addison vowed then that whatever happened between her and the raven haired boy, she would never be like Cho Chang.
"You did the right thing," She murmured to him one night in the common room, weeks after he had saved himself from Cho, and a week after he had kissed her.
"Doesn't feel like it."
"I know," Addison nodded. "But it will."
Years after, when they were out hunting Horcruxes with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, while Hermione cooked frozen fish that none would enjoy and Ron tried to find edible berries and plants, Harry and Addison were curled together silently on his cot, a thin blanket covering their bodies.
"How did you know?"
Addison shifted, so that instead of facing the wall of the tent, she was looking up at him. "How did I know what?"
"That I would feel better."
Addison kissed his chin softly, and looked up at him.
"Because, Harry," She whispered. "Time heals all wounds. Mental and emotional wounds just take more time."
Harry silently absorbed that information, then nodded, kissing her hair softly, before they got up when Hermione announced the fish was done…ish.
Addison stood by Harry, and stood by her vow from her fifth year.
She never put an aggressive hand on Harry.