Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Specifically, the narrator has internalized his abuse and thinks badly about himself. There is also cruelty to a child, both verbally and physically. The physical results in a graphic description of a broken arm and non-graphic descriptions of other injuries. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

Author's Note (Generic Note for the Houses Competition, as Suggested): All my works should be considered to be Not Epilogue Compliant and I treat everything that is not the HP books and the Hogwarts Library Collection as apocrypha (supplementary to canon but still outside of it) and treat it as such. I also make a policy of not ignoring abusive and distasteful actions/decisions of characters and not handwaving the effects of trauma experienced by characters. If you feel that a character isn't acting like their "canon self" chances are good that it's because of one of these two things and they are merely displaying a more realistic response than they did in canon.

Author's Note(s): It should be obvious before leaving the first paragraph, but in this fic, Harry was Sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor. As expected, this changes certain things, because he's interacting with a different group of people. Main thing that changed is that he didn't explore the Stone's Gauntlet or anywhere out of bounds. This means that he sidestepped the adventure Dumbledore had planned for him while simultaneously thwarting Quirrelmort just by not participating. As a final thing, I'm reiterating that Harry's internalized a lot of the Dursleys' abuse, and so sometimes his perception of things is a bit unreliable and flatout cruel to himself.

Challenge/Competition Block:
House: Hufflepuff
Year: 6th
Category: Short (1500-3000 words)
Prompt: "I didn't mean to hurt him" (speech)
Representation: Concussion Anxiety; Healer & Auror; Hufflepuffs & Abbotts; Hannah Abbott
Bonus Challenge(s): Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Second Verse (Nontraditional); Second Verse (Mouth of Babes); Second Verse (Found Family); Second Verse (Middle Name); Second Verse (Nightingale); Second Verse (Unwanted Advice)
Word Count: 2964

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In Loyalty United
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Harry watched as his friends argued over something. Being on the first landing of the main staircase, he couldn't hear what exactly they were fighting about, just the rise and fall of their voices as they did. It wasn't really something he was used to witnessing anymore because he had always found Hufflepuff to be rather peaceful. Even the few fights he had seen had been over quickly and still amicable. The fight going on below, between his fellow first year Hufflepuffs, was anything but friendly. Listening to them bicker like this, Harry could believe what the upperclassmen said about badgers not always being sweet as honey. He just hoped that it didn't turn vicious.

Part of him wanted to wallow in his friends' presence, knowing that he only had a few more days before he would be back at the Dursleys. That was precisely why he was hiding just out of earshot of them, though. In just a few days, he would once more be at the Dursleys and for two months he would hear next to nothing happy. The last thing he wanted was to tarnish all the good memories he had built up of having real friends with the memory of them snapping at each other like Aunt Marge's dogs. Peering between the columns of the railing, Harry frowned as he watched Susan put her hands on her hips, clearly nearing the point where she'll storm away to cool down.

Susan was the fiercest of his friends. She was the best at rules and stuff because her aunt was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and so Susan knew how important rules were to getting things done. Susan also knew the best combat spells, again because of her aunt, and not all of those spells were commonly taught in Britain, which was really cool. But Harry knew that she had a bit of a temper. Nothing set her off faster than someone being mean, though.

Zacharias was good at being mean, though not in a Dudley kind of way. He was more the type to challenge things just to challenge them. It was really good when they were all planning something because he was great at picking at the weak points. It wasn't so great when he started on people. That's usually guaranteed a conflict with Susan if Harry wasn't around to distract them.

He should go help instead of selfishly avoiding his friends.

He really should. It would be the right thing to do.

He didn't move, not even to look away.

"Harry Potter," announced a voice from further up the stairs. Harry tumbled backwards as he twisted to see the speaker. For some reason, Professor Quirrell's pleased expression made Harry's stomach twist into more knots than he had experienced during his Sorting. Summoning the smile that Ernie and Justin had been teaching him (the really polite one for covering being nervous), Harry pushed himself to his feet. Not for the first time, he silently cursed being so short. He had to be the shortest of all the first years.

"Professor," Harry said weakly, "hi. Are you, um, looking forward to the end of term?"

"Walk with me, Potter," the man demanded. Grabbing Harry's arm, the professor began to pull him towards the stairs.

Harry went easily, already trying to figure out what was happening. He was good at adapting to unexpected situations and noticing danger. Justin and Hannah both said so and it was one of Hannah's rules that Harry had to acknowledge the things he was good at. So, if something seemed off, Harry was probably right about it being off. So, the question was what was off?

"You should just ask Harry what he wants, Bones!"

"I would, but your yelling scared him off, Smith!"

"Guys, Harry's right there," Ernie interrupted, "with Professor Quirrell. So maybe everyone should be using calm tones and inside voices?"

"Um, Professor? Harry doesn't like to be touched like that," Hannah said. Harry gave the blonde a grateful smile. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but the professor's grip on his arm was rather uncomfortable. Even if he had like being held like that, it would be painful. Not liking it just made it worse. "Maybe you should let him go?"

"Oh, I am so sorry," the Defense teacher said, not sounding apologetic at all. He shook Harry hard enough that Harry's teeth clicked together a few times before they smashed down on the tip of his tongue. The burst of metallic flavor made him queasy and a little dizzy. "Did the pathetic Hufflepuff really think that a pitiful request like that would sway me? Fifty years has apparently done nothing to improve the intelligence of the leftovers."

"Excuse me," Ernie interrupted again. This time he sounded at his most pompous. He was doing that puffy way of standing, too, where he stood really tall and tilted his head so that his height didn't matter for making someone feel like he was looking down his nose at them. It was really impressive, and Harry really wanted to learn it someday. "What you just said about Miss Abbott and implied about Hufflepuffs in general was quite disrespectful. Even Professor Snape constrains his insults to his classroom. If you apologize and release Mr. Potter at once, I am prepared to leave off contacting my grandfather until after the end of term."

"You dare to speak to me with such insolence, you little brat?!"

"I dare to speak insolently to anyone uncouth enough to insult someone politely seeking the comfort of another! Especially a bully like you!"

Most of the first years gasped at Ernie's daring to yell at a professor, regardless of the reason. Harry just cringed as he anticipated what punishments that Ernie must have just earned. He felt his heart speed up even as he tried to be as still as possible. It was selfish of him to try to hide, and he knew it, but angry adults were really dangerous, and Ernie could still run away to hide until Professor Quirrell had time to cool down; Harry was kind of trapped. It was just better if he did as little as possible to add to the professor's anger. Harry didn't dare to even breathe as he mentally willed his friends to be smart and run, run, run until they were safe. He just needed them to be safe.

"You need to let Harry go, Professor," Susan said, her voice even angrier than it had been when she had been arguing with Zacharias. Harry's eyes snapped open in renewed fear. None of them were running away; all of them had stayed. Susan had stepped right up beside Ernie and had adopted the loose stance she always did when she was ready to hex someone. 'Oh, no, she's going to fight him!'

"Or what, little duffer? You'll cry?" the professor taunted before throwing his head back and laughing. The hairs on Harry's neck rose up at the same time as his shoulders. Everything about this situation was wrong. Professors weren't supposed to be mean, but Harry already knew that all adults had their moments, especially the ones in charge of kids. Instead of doing the smart thing and running away, his friends were all staying to argue with Professor Quirrell who wasn't stuttering at all. The professor gave Harry's arm another shake, making Harry's teeth click together sharply again as the thought ran through his head again.

Professor Quirrell wasn't stuttering.

"You've seem to have cured your stutter," Zacharias said in a lazy drawl like he was commenting on the weather. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion, despite the bored tone. Harry's heart stuttered as he recognized that Zacharias must be spoiling for a fight, probably still riled from arguing with Susan. "Was it the fumbling attempt at superiority or managing not to smell worse than apothecary that did it? Or was it even real at all?"

"Smith," Justin hissed. Harry's eyes flicked over to the Muggle-born to see that he had pulled Hannah slightly behind him, so that the blonde was on the outside of their cluster. Though he was still worried about his other friends, knowing that Hannah especially was being protected helped Harry's nerves. After the way the Abbotts had welcomed him over the Christmas break, Harry didn't want to repay their hospitality by getting Hannah hurt. Justin met Harry's gaze briefly, inclining his head just barely, before continuing to speak to Zacharias. "You can't just say that. Some people work really hard on their dramatic shows of superiority—"

"Malfoy," Ernie interrupted with a fake cough. The pureblood was making a show of carefully examining his fingernails when everyone looked over at him. As if just then realizing that everyone was now watching him again, Ernie looked around the group with an expression of mild surprise. Harry wished that he could manage such a good innocent act, especially so soon after almost losing his temper. Ernie did have a point about Malfoy, though, because the Slytherin would do well if he could match even a twelfth of Ernie's pompousness or Zacharias' drawling sarcasm. Justin shook his head.

"As I was saying," Justin continued, "some people work really hard to appear superior to others and it's rather rude to queer their pitch."

"I see," Zacharias replied, as if suddenly understanding a secret. Harry watched in horror as the two boys turned their attention towards each other, as if dismissing the professor entirely. His stomach roiled at their nerve. "But mentioning the sudden lack of stench was acceptable, right?"

"Oh, yes," Justin agreed amicably. "It's practically a compliment. He must be really proud after reducing everyone to tears with it all year."

"Good, because I would hate to be rude. Why, that would be as rude as holding a scrawny midget in a grip that is definitely going to leave bruises along with the increasing risk of snapping his bird-like bones! I would hate to be in that person's shoes when Susan's patience finally gives out, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," Justin agreed again, just as amicable as he was before and as calm as if they were discussing their Herbology homework. Harry winced as the professor's grip tightened. Maybe Zacharias wasn't completely wrong about the bone-breaking. "Sickle says Lord Macmillan gets here first."

"What tosh," Zacharias snapped with exaggerated irritation. "Director Bones will definitely be first, probably before even being called."

"My money's on Mum," Hannah commented. "She's probably already on her way." The Hufflepuffs looked at her in confusion. Hannah shrugged. "She's a Healer. She probably tagged Harry with a monitoring charm at Christmas. I know she has one on me."

"Isn't that weird?" Justin asked, genuinely confused. "I mean, she's your mother and she constantly got a lock on you. Isn't that, like, an invasion of privacy?"

"It's just for—"

"Will you lot shut it?!" Professor Quirrell snapped finally. His hand jerked once, sharp and hard, in his frustration at the Hufflepuff first years.

Harry heard a wet crack as pain lanced through his arm. He gritted his teeth against the urge to scream. Sourness flooded his mouth as his stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. The world turned a blinding white as Harry fought to remember how to breathe without whimpering. He was only distantly aware of the sudden flurry of action around him. The rapid-fire exchange of cursing and insults flowed around him, punctuated only by equally colorful flashes of agony as his body was jostled with Professor Quirrell's movement.

Then the moving finished with an explosion of pain as he hit the ground and pressure as something landed on him. Someone had knocked the professor to the ground and he had fallen atop of Harry. The weight was even worse than being tackled by Dudley and made it difficult to breathe. To make breathing even harder, a hand wrapped around his throat, choking off what little air Harry could manage.

Forgetting every lesson he had learned from his relatives about why fighting back was a bad idea, Harry grabbed the professor's bare wrist. He squeezed desperately but being restricted to just the one hand made his attempts to free himself pointlessly weak. A current rippled through him, hot and tingly but surprisingly pleasant. He felt the wave move through his skin to enter Professor Quirrell's body.

That was when the screaming started. Terrified of what if could mean, Harry squeezed tighter. The screaming took on a higher pitch. This time the smell of something burning accompanied it. Harry couldn't stop the loop and it didn't seem to be stopping on its own.

Finally, someone yanked Quirrell off of him. The motion made his entire body scream in protest. He jerked as pain skittered through his limbs. Hands pushed him down. Still running on instinct, he tried to resist for a moment. He couldn't see who had a hold of him and trying to be small hadn't helped any. And somewhere in the vast space that he couldn't see because of the spots in his eyes were his friends, and they might need him. He couldn't let them down. He had promised to take care of them, even if only to himself, back when they had welcomed him despite him not really fitting any of the Houses and being a disappointment. He had to protect them. He had promised.

"Yes, Harry," Hannah said, her voice cutting through the brightness blinding him. "I know, but we're fine. It's you we're worried about. We need you to breathe for us." She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her chest, right above her heart. He could feel it beating, fast and hard, under his palm. When she took a deep breath, he copied the motion he felt, just like she had taught him over Christmas break. "That's it. Just breathe. That's all we need to focus on, isn't it?"

"Pah-professor Qu-quirrell—"

"Hey, what's the rule, mister?"

"Always listen," Harry started to answer by rout only to be interrupted by a sudden, stuttering yawn. His vision cleared a bit at the end and he found himself blinking up at Hannah who reacted to his eye contact by smiling. "Always listen to Hannah."

"And I say that we're going to let the others take care of things while we focus on breathing."

"Bossy," Harry complained without any real irritation. Hannah kept his hand pressed to her sternum as they breathed together. The pain wasn't as bad now that he was laying still.

"You had best get used to it." The blonde grinned like she had a secret. "They were snapping at each other like grumpy dogs over getting to invite you to spend the summer, but if they had asked, I could have told them where you'd be."

By her continued smile, Harry didn't think she meant the Dursleys. Spending the summer with the Abbotts, surrounded by the huge family in their multi-generational household, would be far better than lying to the Dursleys about being able to use magic and risking being them figuring it out. Mrs. Abbott had said that he was welcomed whenever and for however long he wanted, despite him making her sad so much. Even better was being able to spend the summer with Hannah bossing him around like they really were siblings.

It would be perfect, exactly what he had always wished a family to be.

There was just one problem.

"The professor?" he dared to ask. He tried to look in the direction that the man had been yanked. Hannah immediately grabbed his chin and made him look only at her. "He's really bad off, isn't he?"

"Don't worry about him," Hannah countered without actually answering. Harry swallowed a couple of times.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Harry said, ignoring her in return. He had to say this. It might be his only chance. "I really didn't. I don't even know how I did."

"It doesn't matter," Hannah snapped, sounding more like Susan than herself. Harry closed his eyes against the tears he could feel gathering at that announcement. He should have known better to let his hopes get the best of him. Of course he wasn't going to the Abbotts, not when he had just done whatever it was that made the professor scream like that; Of course not meaning to hurt him didn't matter. Hannah squeezed his hand briefly before tapping her fingers against the back of it. "Whatever you're thinking, you are wrong. Do you hear me? You're wrong. Now you're going to listen to those of us who are older and bigger than you, namely me, and breathe."

"Three months," he argued, even as he returned to copying her breathing. With his eyes now closed, he was starting to feel sleepy. "You're only three months older than me. Also, everyone is bigger than me."

"That's 'cause you're fun-sized, like a sweet." There was flurry of commotion nearby, but Harry couldn't reopen his eyes to look. "I wonder who won if Mum and Director Bones showed up together. At least that means that they'll take care things the right way."

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Harry repeated as world started drifting away. "I really didn't. It was an accident." Hannah shushed him before scratching through his hair. "Please let me still come home with you. It was just an accident. I didn't mean to hurt him."

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Hannah commanded. "You're coming home with me even if I have to sneak you there in my pocket."

"Pocket?"

"Yes, because you're so small."

"Meanie."

"Sleep or you'll see how mean I am."

It was the easiest thing in the world to obey.

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An Ending
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