Harry sighed heavily, turning his face towards the ceiling, closing his eyes so Hermione couldn't see the exasperated eye roll. Yes, she had a point. Yes, he should tell someone. Yes, his hand was hurting. No, he wasn't going to do anything about it. No, he wasn't an idiot.
The three of them were lounging on the beds in Harry's and Ron's room, talking about anything and everything, but somehow the conversation always seemed to come back to Harry's hands, and mainly the deep wounds that adorned the back of his right one. Ron didn't say much only nodded when Hermione glanced at him expectantly before launching off some other argument. All Harry could do was ignore the ever present burn at the back of his hand, and sit and listen.
The house was empty except them, Sirius and Remus. The rest of the Weasley's where visiting Arthur at St. Mungos, but Harry wasn't quite ready to face Mr. Weasley again, so he had opted to stay behind. He had been faintly surprised when Hermione and Ron also decided to stay at the Headquarters, to keep him company. He had already planned on spending the afternoon hiding with Buckbeak, the only company he really wanted at the moment, but Hermione and Ron wouldn't let him.
Harry suspected that this was some plot of theirs, because he never seemed to be alone anymore. Whatever he did he could always count on Hermione or Ron being around. Harry couldn't tell them how much it meant to him, or how bloody annoying they were being.
Big deal that his hand felt like it was on fire, or that the rag he had wrapped around it was staring to colour red. It also looked a bit infected. And he still had two detentions left when he got back to school. He would have to ask Hermione to clean it for him, because frankly he just wasn't sure how to do it himself, and he would have to ask her tonight probably if he wanted to be able to sleep at all. She wouldn't be happy, but neither was he so… but he really didn't want to show her or Ron for that matter. They would just get worried.
"Harry, are you even listening? Ron and I-" Ron grunted, but as neither Hermione nor Harry knew what it was supposed to mean, they ignored him. "-agree that you really should tell someone about your hand, or at least let me look at it!" Hermione was getting really annoyed, but for the most part she was just extremely worried. Harry's hand hadn't stopped bleeding since that last detention yesterday before his dream, and he hadn't gotten the chance to soak it in any Murtlap Essence that would have soothed the pain for him even though he didn't want to confess to being in pain, and he was good at hiding it too, but she knew her friend good enough to know that he was hurting, even though he didn't seem to want to admit it. But it wasn't possible now, because she wasn't able to brew any at the moment and Harry wasn't going to ask Sirius or Remus for any.
"Yeah mate, how many times have you redressed it today?" Harry gritted his teeth, biting his tongue before he could blurt out something that he really didn't mean. He didn't want to show it to them because then they would realize how bad it really was, and that would only mean that they would go tell someone, even though he wouldn't. Of course he knew they were worried, but they should know when to leave him alone.
Harry was tired. He hadn't been able to sleep since that vision, and his eyelids were begging to slide shut. But he didn't want to sleep. He feared that he would attack someone again, and that flash of the snake in Dumbledore's office was proof enough to Harry that the snake in him was dangerous. He didn't want to risk his friends. He also knew that he would have to sleep at some point, and that had been his plan for today. He would have gone upstairs to Buckbeak, the only person in this house who he didn't really fear of hurting, and taken a nap. But of course he had forgotten his newly appointed babysitters.
"Come on Harry, let me look at it. Your shirt is getting stained again." Harry jerked back when he felt something touch his arm lightly. He opened his eyes and stared up at Ron and Hermione who both looked worried and quite frankly scared.
"Are you alright mate? Your hand's really bloody. Tell Sirius-" and before Harry could even stop to think of what he was saying, he once again let his temper take control.
"I'm NOT going to tell ANYONE! You can badger all you want but it's not going to change it! I don't want to, and I won't do it. What could they do anyway? NOTHING! They can't do anything about-"
"About what?" The three of them gasped and whirled around to face the voice in the doorway. Remus noted how all of them looked guilty, except Harry who just looked tense and angry. Remus frowned.
He and Sirius had been worried when they had heard shouting from down the hallway, and had decided to check it out. This had not been the scenario he had been expecting.
"About what?" Sirius repeated suspiciously. He had also noticed the same things as Remus, but his gaze had zeroed in on his godsons hand. His godsons bloody hand, in the literal sense of the word.
"N-nothing," Hermione's voice shook, and Harry rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. This was it; no way he could hide it now. He had noticed Sirius eyeing his hand, and was now cursing himself for not cleaning it earlier. He smiled faintly when Hermione looked over at him apologetically, cursing himself for being angry at her in the first place. It wasn't her fault.
She couldn't understand the way he never told anyone, never complained. It was just something that was so deep ingrained from his life with the Dursley's, he couldn't change his past, and he knew that.
"Okay, but Harry would you mind coming downstairs for a moment, we would like to talk to you." Remus stepped back letting Harry walk pass him in the doorway, after some shared glances with is friends. Sirius didn't move though, and after a questioning look and a firm nod, Remus followed Harry down the hallway.
"So, now that Harry is distracted, what's going on?" Sirius winced as his voice sounded harsher than he intended. He just couldn't help it. His godson, his pup had been so downcast and Sirius couldn't stand it. Every time he looked into Harry's green eyes, he had to stop himself from rearing back; they were dulled and empty, so very empty, Harry's eyes that were usually so bright and moving, were now shuttered close. And that clear injury was the last push Sirius needed to take action.
And Harry had barely spoken with anyone since yesterday; he hadn't even greeted him, Sirius Black the most awesome godfather on this earth, when they arrived. Sirius knew he was being a tad bit overprotective, but screw that, Harry wasn't telling them something.
Ron and Hermione hesitated, looking for affirmation in the other, before turning back to Sirius who was standing with his arms crossed in the doorway, looking more worried and serious than they had ever seen. There weren't many things that could make the old Marauder this serious, but Harry was definitely one of the few who could manage it.
"Sirius, you know we can't betray Harry's trust that way-"
"Is he hurt?" Hermione bit his lip, fearing the reaction she was going to evoke in both Sirius and Harry. But Harry was injured, that wound on his hand was getting worse, and even though Harry wouldn't let her look at it, she had noticed how he always seemed to be in pain, and how tense he was. Never letting anyone touch or come near him, and Hermione was sure he hadn't slept. Ron didn't let her agonize any further and took the matter into his own hands.
"Sirius, please take a look at his hand. And for Merlin's sake, force some Dreamless Sleep potion on him." Sirius frowned before nodding at Ron who had finally had enough. He had sat there listening to Hermione make matters worse, because she just didn't know. Ron had his suspicions, always had had, but Hermione hadn't seen Harry when he couldn't sleep, or when a particular bad nightmare had woken up Ron also, and he had witnessed Harry writhing on the bed, muttering.
There were times when Harry would just whimper, and then there were times he would talk. And those times were the worst. He could mutter things like; "kill me instead, not him, not him!" , " Please I didn't mean to.", "No please, please…please!" The agonized begging was the worst, and Ron would sit awake for hours, Harry's voice raw and husky from his fear begging it to stop. Harry's spells to keep himself quiet at night had kept the rest of their dorm mates in the dark, but Ron had noticed.
Ron didn't want to imagine what his friend could be dreaming, but he had sworn to himself to help Harry. And he had failed by letting him do this to himself. Ron knew that Harry blamed himself for the attack on his father; it was just something Harry did, and he also knew that Harry thought he somehow deserved the detentions with Umbridge, and that he would never tell someone of his own free will. So Ron did the only thing he could think of doing, and staying true to his promise, helped Harry in the best way he knew how.
Better to not think of how Harry would react. Hopefully Sirius would be able to talk to him. Ron had never seen Sirius so shaken. Welcome to our life. Sirius looked like what Ron usually felt when Harry was doing something dangerous and quite stupid, and in most of the cases completely necessary.
"Do you think we did the right thing?" Hermione whispered into the quietness of the room, not excepting an answer. She hoped Harry would forgive them, and maybe he would feel better after he talked to someone. Well, she hoped like so many times before.
"He needs it, they both do." Hermione looked at Ron who was staring resolutely at the ceiling above his bed. He had never looked so sure of something, and Hermione realized for the first time how much this had also affected Ron. She stood up from her seat at the end of Harry's vacant bed and carefully walked closer. She sat down when he didn't make any move to stop her, and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her rather blankly, hiding from her. Boys.
"They'll be alright, everyone," she said softly, and then smiled reassuringly when he glanced up at her and squeezed his shoulder, glad when he smiled back.
Harry sat down as far away from Remus as possible, shrugging his overly large and worn shirt to cover his hand. Not for the first time in his life he was almost glad for the big baggy clothes the Dursley's had provided him with. They could be handy, even though he did only use them when he couldn't wear his uniform. They may be useful, but that didn't stop Harry from hating them.
The kitchen was unnaturally quiet without Mrs. Weasley bustling around, and Kreacher was nowhere to be seen, something Harry was quite happy about at the moment.
They sat in tense silence and Harry was quite set on keeping quiet, and Remus frankly had no idea how to start. Sirius was better at these kinds of things; Remus had never been as straightforward as his dark haired friend. Of course he was equally as worried as Sirius but he believed that Harry would talk to them if he wanted to. Sirius had evidently seen something in Harry that suggested otherwise.
"Are you thirsty, hungry?" Harry looked at him like he had sprouted another head, witch would have been odd even in the wizarding world, and shook his head. The silence continued.
"Harry, you do know that if you need someone to talk to, both I and Sirius are here for you, right? And that you can tell us anything?" Harry nodded weakly, not meeting his gaze, but looking down at his lap fiddling with his hand. Which was bloody?
Remus gasped and stood up, hurrying towards Harry, who had looked up when the chair Remus had been sitting in banged to the floor, and now his eyes widened in alarm. Harry jumped out of his chair, scrambling around the table so Remus was on one side and him on the other. They stood like that, both ready to move at the slightest hint from the other. Harry was breathing heavily, his heart thundering in his chest from the sudden jolt, and Remus was sniffing the air?
"What… Remus, what are you doing?" Harry followed the werewolf's stare and flinched. His hand had come into view, revealing the bloody rag that he had wrapped around it yesterday after arriving at Grimmauld place trying to stop the bleeding. He quickly covered it again hoping against hope that Remus had been looking at something else.
"What was that?" Remus demanded, the wolf in him still sensing the smell of blood in the air. Harry's blood. How had he not noticed it before? And why had Harry not said anything? Remus thoughts jumped to Nagini, but he quickly berated himself. Harry had been nowhere near that snake so it must have been something else that had caused such an injury. It couldn't have been Harry himself, surely not. Remus dismissed that idea too. Ron and Hermione would have noticed something, right?
"Harry, what is that on your hand?" Harry blanched looking anywhere but at Remus. He did not want to have this conversation.
"Nothing." Remus was about to get loud, but he was beaten to it.
"NOTHING? Your shirt is soaked with blood! Harry James Potter, you tell us what's happened right now!" Sirius barged into the kitchen, startling both Remus and Harry, who quickly straightened up from their tense positions; both had been ready for a chase. Sirius faltered and studied them both closely before turning back to his godson, his face expectant, and to Harry's surprise, worried.
"It really is nothi-" Sirius raised an eyebrow, and tried to move closer, but Harry scuttled further away, so now it was Remus, Sirius on one side and him on the other. There was a line trough the kitchen, and Harry knew he was trapped. They could come at him both ways, and he would have nowhere to run. He shook himself harshly. They weren't going to come at him, they were not his enemies.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, I do not like people lying to me!" Harry watched him wincing at his godfather's words, but too stubborn to say anything at all. His hand wasn't that bad… only if someone touched it, or he clenched his fist or… moved it in any way.
Sirius sighed noticing the defiant posture at the other end of the table. For a minute he seriously considered just running straight at the infuriatingly stubborn boy, but he knew that it wouldn't go down well with Harry, so with a defeated shake of his head, he slumped down in one of the only chairs that had managed to stay upright in the scramble earlier and let his head drop into his hands, quite conscious of the incredulous stares shot his way.
Remus slowly followed his example and sat down, taking deep breaths to calm himself, placing a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder. Across the table Harry was watching them doubtfully, but slowly inched closer to the table, choosing to sit down as far away as the table allowed.
Sirius and Remus looked at Harry, who was getting uncomfortable with all the staring, and was once again fiddling with his injured hand, resolutely looking at a spot just above Sirius's head.
Sirius sighed again. "Harry… please tell us. We only want to help you, but we can't do anything if you don't tell us what's wrong. And quite frankly that looks pretty bad." It was Harry's turn to sigh as his hand throbbed, and his eyes landed on Sirius and Remus. They were both looking worried and a bit angry, and they did kind of deserve to know, but they were wrong. There was nothing they could do, so there was really no reason to burden them with this.
"Harry…"
"Alright, alright. I'll tell you, just… just please promise not to freak out?" They glanced at each other, before nodding back at Harry. No freaking out, well that sounded pretty ominous.
"Well, I've been a lot in detentions this year-" Remus frowned. That wasn't like Harry at all; the most he got detentions for was if Snape was in a particularly foul mood. Something was wrong here.
"What have you been doing? You can't have been getting into that much trouble." Harry reared up before their eyes, back straightening, eyes flashing and his fist clenching even though they could see him visibly flinch.
"I haven't done anything but told the truth. That bloody toad just can't shut up! None of them will ever admit that Voldemort is back-"
"Harry! I thought you promised to keep calm and stay down. We don't want the ministry swooping down on you again!" Sirius thought that he should have guessed this had to do with that Umbitch woman, and he wouldn't stand for it. First Remus and now Harry!
"I know, but the things she's telling us-"
"She's just trying to rile you up!" Harry and Sirius were both on their feet again, shouting at each other across the room. Sirius face was flushed with anger, not directed at Harry but at himself, and Harry's hand was bleeding again, the blood dripping down his fingers.
"I KNOW! But she's disrespecting Cedric and everyone else that has died because of Voldemort; she's putting everyone in danger, making us read books in class and not letting us practise any spells at all-"
Remus who was the only one still sitting down and not shouting, thought it most prudent for him to interfere before things got more out of hand.
"Sit down, the both of you," he said in his most calming and stern voice, the voice he saved for classroom riots. Harry and Sirius both deflated immediately looking ashamedly at the floor, before sitting down quietly in their respective seats, Harry still as far away as the table allowed.
"Good. Now, I understand that you're angry Harry but shouting at us won't make a difference," Remus watched as Harry and Sirius flushed and Sirius looked up smiling sheepishly. This was what Remus did best, keep peace. "We know what Umbridge is doing but we can't do anything about that, at least not yet. She is from the ministry and we can't risk angering Fudge more than he already is after that dementor attack-"Harry clearly wasn't calm yet, and reminding him off all the fuck up's that was his life, clearly wasn't the way to go about things.
"So things could get worse? Is that what you're saying? She could do more than ban the Quidditch team, forbid telling the truth, carving open students hands, sacking Hagrid, nearly get Sirius-"
"What do you mean carving open students hands?" The fuming teenager broke off with wide eyes, looking down at his hand and stuffing it into his pocket, an action that didn't go unnoticed by either Marauder.
"Harry, are you saying that… show us now!" Harry shook his head frantically not meeting their gaze, staring resolutely at his lap.
"Harry we really don't want to force you, but that will probably need some medical attention if you don't do anything about it soon," Remus said worriedly, trying in vain to catch the teen's eye as Harry shrugged, sinking down in his chair, bringing his hand out of his pocket slowly, still not looking up.
Remus frowned at the red stained cloth and had to physically restrain Sirius from jumping out of his chair and rushing over. They had to do this at Harry's pace.
"Harry?" Two impossibly wide green eyes looked up at him, and Sirius noted how they shimmered slightly in the dim light of the kitchen. He smiled encouragingly, even though it probably looked more like a grimace. That hand did not look good.
Harry sighed deeply, before shrugging again. "Okay, fine." Remus and Sirius held their breaths as Harry slowly removed the rag from around his hand, wincing when he accidentally pressed down too hard. Fuck, that hurt!
It didn't take that long, but Harry was still keeping his hand out of sight, even as the bloody rag was on the table. A glaring evidence of Harry's injury, that no one had known about.
"Harry, please," Sirius practically begged his godson now thoroughly shaken by the bloody rag in front of his nose.
Harry bit his lip worriedly, and then slowly put his hand on the table, palm down resting on the table. There was a lot of blood, and Sirius and Remus weren't really able to see anything but red. But when Remus conjured another cloth so he could redress Harry's hand, he cast a small 'scorgify' to clean off the excess blood. Harry flinched as the cuts throbbed viciously, and his hand balled into a fist, trying to control his cry of pain, but at the same time making the deep cuts on his hand stand out against the now clean and pale skin.
Sirius and Remus stared dumbfounded for a second before Sirius cursed softly and walked to the door, but he didn't leave like Harry fully believed he would, instead he paused, battling with something in his mind, and just walked right back to his godson and dragged him into a tight hug, not letting go until he felt Harry fully relax in his arms and wrap his own arms around Sirius.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius whispered, his voice rough with suppressed emotion, hugging the idiotic teen tighter. Remus watched them quietly, fighting tears and at the same time trying to stop himself from the thing Sirius had wanted to do earlier. He was not going to murder Dolores Umbridge! Quickly at least, she would suffer.
He was going to slowly torture her until she begged for death and then he would tear her apart- Calm breaths Remus, calm, in and out, calm.
Harry was fighting back sudden tears also, but he could still feel them leak out trough his tightly shut eyelids, staining Sirius's shoulder, and when he finally relaxed and let them come it just didn't feel like they would ever stop. He cried silently, leaning heavily on Sirius's shoulder, not caring about a thing as the hurt and anger slowly leaked out with the mingling tears on his cheeks.
Sirius didn't loosen his grip even as he felt Harry calm down, and looked sadly at the top of Harry's messy dark head, before looking at Remus who had sat down wearily in one of the kitchen chairs.
He never could have guessed what Harry was hiding, and he felt that familiar stab of fury as he thought of that bitch ever even looking at his godson. Why hadn't Harry told anyone? Well Hermione on Ron knew, but why not him, or Remus? Didn't Harry thrust them? No, that was a stupid question. Of course Harry trusted them. So it had to be something else then, but what?
"Harry, let me take care of it, please?" He gazed at his godson's tear stained face, noting the very insecure expression that made him look more childlike than ever. Harry's eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Sirius wasn't sure if it was because he was in pain or something else. That monster had done this, and he hadn't been there to stop it. Whatever he did he never seemed to be able to help his godson. And it always hurt Harry in the end. Sirius just wished Harry would trust him enough to come and tell him things like this. He couldn't deny the slight hurt of Harry not telling him something as important as this, and then he felt like an arse because Harry was obviously not used to someone taking care of him
"It's not so bad; I mean it needs to be redressed but its fine." Sirius didn't believe that for a second, and Harry realized that. His hand was aching because of his clenched fists and there was a constant trickle of blood running down his hand.
"Harry, that looks infected. We should probably even show it to Madame Pomfrey-"
"No!" Harry's eyes widened. No, he couldn't show it to anyone at Hogwarts. Dumbledore would find out and Harry really didn't want that. He wished Sirius wouldn't ask questions or anything, just let him handle it. He was used to it after all; it was laughable to ever think that his aunt or uncle would have helped him with injuries before.
"Harry, give me your hand now" Sirius was getting really worried, and the trickle of blood running down his godson's fingers really didn't help his bubbling fury. He wanted to hunt that woman down and kill her in the most gruesome way possible- and he could come up with some pretty bloody ones at the moment. The Ministry be damned! But he couldn't do that. Look how it turned out last time, the rat got away and he abandoned his godson and only family for twelve years. He was not going to do it again. He learned from his mistakes, and Moony had made him promise.
"I can handle it-" Remus had been quiet until now, trying desperately to wrap his head around the words etched into their pup's hand.
"That's not the point Harry, we want to help you and you need it. Your hand needs medical attention and if you refuse to go to Madame Pomfrey then please let us help. I can take a look at it," he didn't let his eyes waver from Harry's, trying to reassure him without words that he didn't need to 'handle' it, they would help him.
There was a long silence, and Remus could clearly see Sirius growing restless, and frankly the blood dribbling down Harry's hand was not doing anything to calm his nerves either. He still felt a murderous intent and wanted to cause serious pain to any fool who'd ever laid a hand on Harry, but at the moment there wasn't anything else he could do. He would help to the best of his abilities and then some, but he couldn't force Harry to trust them.
"Please Harry." Sirius begged with his eyes, his fingers twitching to just grab his godson and protect him from the world. Not an option right now, even he could see Harry wouldn't respond well to rushing or too much contact right now.
Harry didn't know what to think. His hand was burning, he was tired and emotionally drained after his crying earlier, and he was just too exhausted to even feel embarrassed for it right now. He felt like he would crumple on the spot, but for once there would be someone catching him. And not going to Madame Pomfrey was pretty high on his list so there really didn't seem to be any choice. Slowly he nodded to Remus, falling back into his chair, watching apprehensively as Remus kneeled at his side and conjured some potions and some white cloth to wrap his hand with. This would probably hurt.
Sirius sat down on the chair besides Harry, taking his other hand and squeezing it reassuringly when Harry jumped at the sudden touch.
"Relax Harry, this won't take long." Harry looked at him for a long time before he nodded again, looking resolutely away from the blood stained floor. Remus carefully worked at cleaning Harry's hand, taking great care not to press down too hard and stopping to ask Harry if it hurt too much. Sirius was doing an admirable job of distracting Harry, talking about anything and everything, even though he was sure Harry could detect the edge in his voice. He was still furious, the anger simmering just below the surface of the concern he felt for his godson.
True enough it didn't take too long to clean it and wrap it up, and by the time Remus was done Harry was practically nodding of right in the middle of Sirius's babbling. Remus checked the dressing a final time before gesturing to Sirius to shut up.
"Is he asleep? I mean he probably hasn't slept in days, or that's what it looks like at least," Sirius whispered gently, carding through Harry's hair, letting his finger trail down his cheeks and the dry tear tracks. He looked more peaceful now than Sirius had ever seen him.
"Yeah, I know," Remus sighed, eyeing the blood on the floor. They would have to do something even though Harry clearly didn't want them to.
"It was a blood quill, you know. I recognize the wound. Illegal." Sirius sighed sadly, still watching Harry. Could they have stopped it earlier if they had known? He wasn't sure, the Ministry was just too strong, too controlling. He would put it past Fudge to ignore this.
"Well, we can't do anything now, let's get Harry to bed. We can talk more in the morning, Harry probably needs it too, and I'll have to check over that hand again. It's on the brink of getting infected you know, lucky we noticed it now," Sirius nodded, before carefully grabbing Harry around the shoulders, shaking him slightly to wake him up. He would prefer if he could just pick him up and carry him to bed himself, but even though Harry was as thin as a twig he wouldn't be able to walk up the stairs. Groggily Harry blinked at them, a sleepy haze over his eyes, and Remus thought he looked adorable.
"We need to get you to bed young man, so move those legs," Sirius smiled slightly, supporting Harry by the shoulders, even though he tried to protest the idea of bed.
"Nightmare… no, can't, snake… no," Harry mumbled incoherently and Remus and Sirius exchanged a long look over Harry's bent head.
"Don't worry pup, we'll stay with you," Sirius murmured into Harry's messy hair, tightening his grip when Harry stumbled forward. Harry didn't seem to have any more energy to fight them, and they slowly progressed up the stairs to the bedroom.
Hermione poked her head out when she heard the floor creak, and her eyes widened when she saw the three figures at the end of the hall. She quickly hissed to Ron to get a move on, and together they tried to assist Sirius in getting Harry to bed. They took his shoes of and uncaring of his godsons embarrassment Sirius pulled Harry's worn jeans of as well before dragging the thick blanket over him. He turned to Hermione and Ron, gazing at them both seriously for a minute.
"I want to keep an eye on Harry tonight, so if you don't mind Ron could you please move to another room for the night, I'll prepare it for you-"
"Yeah sure, no problem… Is Harry all right?" Ron dragged his eyes away from the barely moving lump underneath the blankets that was his best friend and looked at Sirius.
"He will be." Remus nodded beside him, feeling warmer when he saw the honest and unconcealed concern on their faces. Hopefully they could solve this. And hopefully they would also be able to bring down one certain toad in that process.