'It's just a door.' Harry tells himself. 'This isn't what you should be afraid of.'

But that wasn't true, and Harry knew it.

As soon as the legless spider rolled to Harry's feet, Professor Lupin had let out a resounding, "Here!" and took a hurried step towards Harry, but he had been a tad too slow and a bit too far and the wiggling thorax and abdomen had already shifted.

The plain, sloping white door was attached to no wall and stood by itself in the middle of the room.

In fact, one could hardly tell it was a door at all. The only feature defining it as such being a small knob against the shorter edge. Its slanted top and overall smallness, however, pointed to it not being a regular door, as one would have to bend and crouch just to get through it.

But Harry Potter knew that door well.

He could tell you what was on the other side of it and he could tell you why it was shaped as it was.

Simply put, it was the entrance to the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's house. Or, as few would know it except a few old, burned letters, Harry's childhood bedroom.

Surprisingly, the first emotion that flickered across Harry's mind was not fear, but shock. The wand in his grasp, held up and ready to take on whatever the boggart turned into, lowered a fraction as the object in front of him registered in his brain and he was stilled by the incomprehensiveness of the situation.

The confusion, of course, was quickly overtaken by the gut wrenching panic that wracked over Harry's body as he remembered the dark, cold feeling of being stuffed and abandoned inside the small room.

Harry tried to reason with himself that it was just a door. It couldn't hurt him; it wasn't a dementor or Voldemort. It was a simple cupboard door.

But the thoughts did nothing to stop the fear that poured into his limbs, making them stiff and icy. It didn't stop his eyes from filling with tears and his throat drying and threatening to close. It didn't stop his heart from pounding fast enough that he could hear blood flowing in his ears and feel it rushing out of his cheeks. Nor did it stop his breath from quickening, fighting against his narrowing windpipe, and his hands from trembling.

Harry's body paid no heed to what his mind was saying, forcing his thoughts to change from, 'this can't hurt you' to 'we have to get away'.

He moved one foot back, his wand forgotten and held limply at his side as he kept his eyes on the door. His body was ready for the feel of large hands or dainty claws to push him forward, to open the door and lock him inside.

He didn't want to go inside.

He didn't want to be locked away.

He didn't want to be forgotten.

Harry didn't register it at first as a body slid in front of his own, his mind not catching up to the fact that the boggart had only been shifted into a door for less than a second, enough time for the Professor to reach him.

Harry didn't see what the inconspicuous white door turned into, because his body was already moving on its own and he turned on the spot and pushed through the crowd - neither his eyes nor hands registering the people he knocked against, only that an exit was in sight.

Harry's mind didn't take back over until he was at the entrance of the Gryffindor Common room.

His lungs burned and he felt weak but he wasn't sure if that was because he had run from the staffroom or just the after effects of fear.

"Do you have the password, boy?"

Harry flinched at the name, his body tensing and ready to run again, but he shook his head to clear his mind and clenched his fists tightly.

He mumbled through the password without looking at the Fat Lady and slipped in as quickly as he could.

Harry felt dirty.

He felt tired and dirty and just plain terrible.

He climbed the stairs on the boy's side and headed for the bathroom.

He needed to shower; to scrub the imaginary dirt off of him.

He had messed up big time.

The water was scalding hot when Harry stepped under the showerhead. It burned his skin and seared every place it touched and Harry was thankful for the pain.

He scrubbed at his body roughly, the embarrassment was starting to catch up to him as the last dregs of panic slipped away. Harry couldn't believe that one of his most well-kept secrets had almost gotten exposed, because he knew without a doubt that if he had waited any longer, a younger, less-capable version of himself would have come out, whether physically or metaphorically, and then everyone would know.

Know how disgusting and useless he was.

But Harry, most of all, couldn't believe that he had ran away. Especially in a class with Draco and the rest of the Slytherins. They still hadn't let his incident with the dementors on the train go and now he had given them even more fuel to torch him with.

The only plus side was that the boggart had chosen something as ordinary as the cupboard door instead of- Merlin forbid- Uncle Vernon.

But he was still stuck with the dilemma of explaining why the boggart had chosen a door to Ron and Hermione. Everyone else he could ignore, but not them; Hermione especially wouldn't let it go for sure.

"Harry?"

Harry jerked away from the wall, his mind finally fully registering the pain of his red, scrubbed-raw skin that the hot water was damaging even more.

"R-ron," Harry stepped away from the water, turning it off blindly as he faced the red head standing in the open-door way.

Over his shoulder, Harry could see Dean and Seamus. Dean, being taller than Ron, hid most of his snooping by peering in around the door frame and Seamus, being shorter, used Ron as a shield and watched over his shoulder.

Harry blushed at being caught unclothed while the others were fully dressed and he reached for the nearest towel, pulling it tightly around his body self-consciously and ignoring the pain as the fabric rubbed roughly against his still-raw flesh.

Ron glanced behind him at Harry's action and grimaced, stepping fully into the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Hey! We share this bathroom too!" Seamus shouted as he hammered a fist against the door twice.

"We all know you don't have to use the toilet right now, Finnigan. Go away!" Ron called back.

"Yes I do! You have no proof that I don't!" Seamus responded irritably.

"Just leave it, Seamus." Dean's voice interjected and the annoyed sigh that could only be from Seamus followed the words as the sound of their footsteps led away from the door.

"Fine, but if I have to piss, it's going to be on his bed."

Ron huffed out his own irritated sigh and turned away from the door to look back at Harry. Their eyes met and both thirteen year olds looked away at the awkwardness of the situation.

"So, ugh, you kind of left early and Hermione told me to tell you that Professor Lupin assigned us homework." Ron blushed, flustered and embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his head as he looked to the side, his body angled away from Harry's to provide the illusion of privacy as if they didn't shower together every morning in the communal boy's bathroom.

"Oh, thanks." Harry answered lamely. He shook himself lightly to try and orientate his mind better. He licked his lips to wet them, his tongue catching leftover drops of water, the cooled liquid heating back up in his warm mouth, and bit at the inside of his lower lip lightly before opening his mouth again. "Ugh, what was the homework then?"

The question seemed to startle Ron somewhat as he lowered his hand from the nape of his neck and turned back towards Harry.

"I-ugh…" He stopped and his brow creased slightly in concentration. "I can't remember."

Harry let out a startled laugh at the answer before the laughter continued to spill past his lips, and after a second of paused confusion, Ron joined in as well and they both stood in the bathroom, chuckling at their own awkwardness.

"I guess we'll just have to ask Hermione then." Harry finally got out as the laughter started to die down. He really did appreciate Ron and how easygoing he could make him, it felt nice to have such a great friend that could make him feel a little bit more normal.

'To bad I'm not normal.'

The thought took Harry off guard.

The cause of their awkwardness rushing back into his mind and sickness swelled at the back of his throat as the imaginary filth he couldn't hope to scrub off made itself known again. His eyes dimmed and he pulled the towel tighter around himself.

The towel suddenly felt too soft, even against his damaged skin, and Harry wished it was rougher.

Ron watched the light fade from his friend's eyes and his own smile waned.

"Yeah…"

Harry tuned away from Ron and stepped towards his clothes, running the towel quickly and roughly over his body to dry off before neatly folding it and setting it on the counter and reaching to pull on his clothes.

"Hey, Harry…"

Harry hummed out a response and turned back towards the taller boy while pulling his shirt over his head.

"What happened back at the teacher's staffroom?" Harry paused in fixing his shirt and stared at the ground for a second before straightening the hem and looking at Ron.

"Oh it was nothing, Ron. You shouldn't worry about it-" Harry stopped when his eyes caught Ron's and he looked away as he grabbed his dirty clothes off the floor.

"Harry, I think we both know that wasn't nothing. You ran out of the room for Merlin's sake!" Ron stepped forward and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, the flinch that followed not going unnoticed, but being ignored for the time being. "We're best friends, Harry. You can tell me anything."

Harry was trying to contain the sudden onslaught of terror that coursed through him as Ron touched him. Despite just taking a shower, he still felt like he was covered in grim and now that filth was rubbing off on Ron. He held still and tried not to move because he knew that it would hurt Ron's feeling if he brushed him off, but he was dirtying him.

Harry gave a tight smile and nodded. "Of course we're friends, Ron, and I'm telling you the truth, it isn't anything to worry about.

"Excuse me, I need to put my clothes away." Harry gently lowered one of his shoulders and walked around the taller boy.

He let out a sigh of relief as soon as he opened the door, but his skin burned, especially where Ron had touched him and he chastised himself silently for allowing his friend to get dirty.

He stepped into their shared room and set his dirty clothes on the floor in front of his bed for the house elves to clean that night. Harry could feel Ron step in with him, but the taller boy made no move to talk to him, so Harry ignored him.

While Harry organized his bag, getting out his homework assignments and books, he searched his brain for an excuse that Hermione could accept.

"We should head downstairs and meet up with Hermione, she's probably waiting to hear from us." Harry came back to his senses a few minutes later at the words and wanted to disagree as soon as it registered in his mind, but there was nothing left to do and he had no arguments to give him a few more minutes, especially since he needed to get Lupin's homework assignment from Hermione, so he stood up and nodded his head in agreement.

Ron walked past him and towards the door and Harry followed behind him, stopping when Ron paused.

"Ron?" Harry questioned, looking at his friend's back in curiosity.

Ron turned around and looked down at Harry, his eyes unreadable. His mouth twitched open like he was going to say something before it clenched shut again. He faced the door and walked out.

Harry stood in confusion for a second before shrugging it off and following him.

Just as he feared, the common room grew quiet as soon as he stepped inside it, but he ignored the stares and whispers and continued towards Hermione.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, Hermione was up and rushing over.

He caught her before she crashed fully into him, but Harry could feel the burn in the places that she touched and he could almost see the dirt that was rubbing off on her from him. He kept her at arm's length, something he always did and something she didn't question anymore.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes searching him over like she could spy the problem if she looked hard enough.

Harry smiled forcefully at her, discreetly trying to push her away and off him.

"I'm fine, Hermione. It's nothing to worry about." Harry was starting to feel like a broken record, something he found that wasn't as uncommon as he would like it to be.

He steered Hermione away from the open and into the seat she had vacated and sat down at one of the two empty seats next to her, the other filled immediately by Ron.

"Harry, we all know it wasn't nothing. So tell me what it was." Hermione stared sternly at him and Harry went through all of his ideas, the knowledge that not telling Hermione anything was not even an option.

He finally took his experience with lying into hand and decided on a half-truth.

"It's really nothing, Hermione. I just had a bad experience with the cupboard under my uncle and aunt's stairs." Harry tried to give a slightly sheepish smile, pushing down the nausea that was fighting in his stomach and promising to work its way into his throat. "I accidently locked myself in it once and it was a traumatizing experience, that's all, really."

Harry finished with a small, embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his head.

Hermione stared, unconvinced, at his story.

"Then why'd you run away?"

Harry was slightly taken aback by the forcefulness of the question, and he bit his lip and ran through any explanations.

"Well…it's embarrassing to be scared of a door, Hermione. I didn't want to have to deal with Malfoy's remarks if I stayed. It's already bad enough that he uses dementors against me, but now I've gone and given him an even lamer weapon. You've got to understand that, Hermione." Harry hoped that his desperation wasn't shinning too brightly through his explanation, but he had a feeling he was failing miserably.

He waited for Hermione's conviction as she stared him up and down in his seat, measuring his truthfulness.

After a full minute she smiled and nodded. "I understand, Harry. Let's hope Malfoy doesn't get too bad."

Harry laughed with her, relieved that he was able to explain it away.

"So, Ron was telling me Lupin gave us homework..?"

Harry lost himself in his work, glad that he was able to push away his secrets again.

Over his head, Hermione and Ron locked eyes and nodded, lips pinched and eyes concerned.

Their gaze drifted back towards their friend.