Chapter One
It was dark. So dark. Harry lifted his hand in front of his face, but knew he wouldn't be able to even see the outline. How many times had he found himself in this desolate place? He was trapped, again. Harry didn't bother struggling as he had a hundred times before. He just waited; waited for what he knew was coming. Harry didn't wait long.
There was a noise in the darkness. A low rumbling, like distant thunder. It had terrified Harry the first time he heard it, but now he just let the terrible sound roll over him. And then, it came. From somewhere above him, there came a pressure so dense and heavy, that he could feel himself being pushed even deeper into the abyss beneath him. The pain was excruciating. He was being crushed smaller and smaller, the constant oppressive weight granting no mercy on his delicate frame. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't speak. Then, when he could take no more, a voice slithered through the darkness.
"Hello Harry."
Harry woke with a start. Reaching through the crimson curtains of his four poster bed, he snatched his wand from the small cabinet beside the bed.
"Lumos!" The light revealed his rumpled, sweaty sheets, but no person who the disembodied voice could belong to. Finally getting his breathing under control, Harry muttered "Tempus". The floating red letter showed '4.36am'. Harry sighed, flicked his wand to extinguish the light, and collapsed back into bed.
At breakfast, the constant early morning wake up calls were beginning to take their toll on Harry. He pushed his bacon round the plate, then stifled a yawn. Hermione eyed him suspiciously, before throwing a pointed look at Ron.
"You alright, mate?" he asked casually. Harry yawned again, before nodding.
"Yeah, just up late last night. Trying to understand what McGonagall was on about last lesson!" He laughed lightly, before turning back to his breakfast. He completely missed the look Ron and Hermione shared.
The first lesson of the morning was Charms. They were studying the theory of the Patronus Charm, ready for when they attempted the spell next year. Flitwick jabbered on at the front of the room, perched precariously on a tower of books, while the rest of the class attempted to keep up with his enthusiasm. Hermione was scribbling so fast, her quill keep flicking ink onto Ron's parchment. Ron had given up all together and was turning the ink blots into stick people by giving them bodies, arm and legs. Harry was gazing out of the window, completely bored. The Patronus was old news to him. What he was finding interesting were the snatches of last night's dream that kept coming back to him in small flashes. He remembered darkness, the pressure and the pain, and then the voice...
"Harry!" He jumped. Ron and Hermione were both staring at him. He sent a puzzled look at them, after which Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away, but Ron leaned closer.
"You spaced out for a minute there, mate! Couldn't get your attention, you're lucky Flitwick didn't notice!" Harry smiled at the redhead. He took a piece of spare parchment and scribbled a reply.
Sorry. Thanks for waking me up!
Ron looked at it and smiled, before scrawling back
No problem mate. Is something wrong, you're a bit out of it today!
Harry frowned and shook his head. "Tired", he mouthed at Ron, who nodded in understanding. The redhead took the parchment once more.
Dreams bugging you?
Harry hesitated, but wrote back Nah, just need a good sleep! Might skip potions...
It was only a small lie, and Ron didn't need to worry about
Ron snickered at that, before turning back to the lesson, while Harry slipped back into his musings. A minute later, Ron passed the scrap of parchment with their conversation on to Hermione, who narrowed her eyes as she read it.
After charms, Harry headed back to Gryffindor Tower to drop his bag off before lunch. Ron had stuttered something about Hermione, and then dashed off, blushing furiously. Still sniggering, Harry threw the books into his trunk, and then smiled absent-mindedly at his shadow, which the sun shining in from the window had thrown up against the opposite wall.
He froze. His own shadow was there, but alongside it was a second one, as though someone where standing right next to him... Harry whipped around, his hand flying to his wand. Only the window and the bright sunlight greeted him. Turning back cautiously, Harry stared at his own, now solitary shadow...
'...What the hell?!'
Still thoroughly unnerved by the mysterious shadow, Harry was slightly edgy throughout lunch, something that was picked up by his year mates.
"Som'fin wrong 'Arry?" Seamus managed to say around a mouthful of bread roll. Harry raised an eyebrow at the attempt, but gave them the same story he gave Ron and Hermione, about simply needing more sleep. They seemed to accept this, although Neville still seemed concerned. All in all, it was a fairly quiet hour. Not that it would last. Between Harry and a relaxing evening was double potions with the Slytherins. Joy.
On the way to the dungeons, Malfoy sneered at him, while Nott deliberately walked into Harry with enough force to leave a bruise.
"Watch it, Mudblood!" he snarled. That insult left a strange feeling coiled round his gut. He'd been insulted a thousand times before, yet today, that one word really pissed him off. Determinedly gripping his bag, instead of reaching for his wand as he'd prefer, Harry brushed off the comment, the only sign he had heard was the harsh set of his jaw.
Potions went steadily downhill. The burn salve he made was more purple than blue, which gave Snape another glorious excuse to rip into Harry once more.
"Tell me, Potter. How many Laytis leaves are you supposed to add?"
"Four, sir." Snape sneered at him. "And which way must you stir?"
"Clockwise three times, and anti-clockwise twice." Another sneer.
"So you managed to pick up a textbook after five years, Potter? Congratulations. Now tell me, in which order did you add the leaves and stir?"
Harry frowned, he'd added the leaves and then stirred... and glancing down at the instructions, it told him the opposite. Harry sighed, and looked back at Snape, who knew his answer.
"So you managed to pick up the textbook Potter, but couldn't manage to get past the second page. Ten points from Gryffindor, and see me after class."
Harry huffed, but didn't comment. He knew arguing would get him nowhere.
After class, Harry waited behind. Snape slammed the door shut, then stalked back to his desk. "Potter" he snapped. "Although I would sincerely love to spend all my spare time correcting you abysmal potion skills, I have more... important things to do. I – " . He cut off, glancing at the door. Flicking his wand, the door flew open in time for them to see Ron and Hermione jump back guiltily. Snape glared. "As low as Potter's intelligence is, I'm sure he can find his way out of the dungeons without his two faithful lapdogs to lead the way. Now get out." The pair blushed, before retreating out of sight. The door swung shut, and Snape continued.
"It's come to my notice that your learning abilities in ... certain areas shall we say, are severely lacking. Therefore, I – ". He broke off for again, this time striding to the door and wrenching it open.
"When I say 'get out now'" he bellowed, "I mean remove your miserable carcasses from my dungeons immediately, not move six feet down the corridor! Get out!" The sound of footsteps pounding swiftly down the corridor almost made Harry smile. Those two really were protective of him...
Not protective, possessive...
Harry blinked. Where did that come from? His day was getting weirder by the hour. Snape had returned to his seat, and finally finished his sentence.
"As I said, Potter. Your performance is abysmal. You will therefore have extra remedial potions on a Tuesday and Thursday night, on top of the regular ones on Saturday. If you have complaints, go see the Headmaster. Until then, get out of my sight." Needing no more excuse, Harry snatched up his bad and fled the dungeons.
Evening couldn't come quick enough for Harry. Instead of heading back to the Tower, he'd decided to tackle the mountain of homework that was due for that week. Slipping into the library, he'd headed straight for the little table in the back corner. Few students ventured so far back into the library, so peace and quiet shouldn't have been a problem. But for Harry, what should have been rarely happened. Walking silently and alone, Harry automatically checked the side isles for possible threats, such as the occasional lurking Slytherin. Glancing to his left, Harry nodded absent minded at a figure leaning against a book case ... a figure looking directly at him.
Harry did a double take. The figure had gone. Harry stood staring at the empty isle. Only books and dust greeted him. Backing away slowly, Harry turned, and plunged deeper into the library heading for his quiet, shadow-free refuge. His hand remained tightly grasped around his wand for a long while after.
That was only the start of his hellish evening. Half an hour later, Harry was still feeling jumpy and snappish when Ron and Hermione turned up. Within minutes he was fending off a barrage of questions. Hermione had looked at him curiously, and asked
"Why are you studying, Harry? Do feel ok? Has something happened?" Harry had blinked, then laughed.
"I'm fine, Mione. Just thought I'd get some work done while I've got time." Which lead to more questions along the lines of "why won't you have any time?", "what are you going to be doing?", "why haven't you told us?", "are you hiding something, Harry?" and finally "Stop being stubborn and tell us what you're hiding!"
Harry had gaped at Hermione's determined face. He held up his hands as a peace gesture and spluttered "I'm not hiding anything! I decided to do my homework! Is there something wrong with that Hermione?!"
Picking up his quill, Harry wrote a grand total of three words before she leapt in with another question.
"So what did Snape want?" Taking a calming breath, Harry summarised the various insults Snape had thrown at him, and then explained that he'd been given detentions on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, until he could brew the last three potions correctly. They didn't know about his Occlumency lessons, as Snape felt that the less people who knew, the less people who could give the information to Voldemort. Harry had grudgingly agreed, but now he felt a stirring of satisfaction arising from keeping something a secret from the two of them.
Hermione had listened to all of this with a raised eyebrow. Harry stared back at her, before giving up and turning back o his essay. Five minutes later, he realised Hermione was still staring at him.
"What now?" he asked tiredly. Hermione huffed, before flying into full lecture mode.
"I hope you're telling me the truth Harry. I don't think it's too much to ask to tell me what Snape wanted after everything I've done for you. Hiding things is nasty, Harry, and I know you're not a mean person, so I think you should do the decent thing and just tell me everything."
Harry blinked at her. Then he blinked again. An incredulous smile formed on his face, marred only by the frown which creased his brow.
"I've told you everything, Hermione. And I told you the truth." Lying is becoming fairly easy these days he thought smugly, before continuing. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish this essay sometime tonight." When she made no move to go, Harry raised his arm and pointed.
"The door's over there."
With an indignant snarl, Hermione snatched up her bag and stormed out of sight. Shaking his head, Harry picked up his quill yet again. A few minutes passed in silence, before Ron leaned closer.
"So, what did Snape say?" Harry slammed his quill down on the table causing a large thud that echoed through the library.
"Just piss off Ron!" he snapped. Ron started, then jumped up and fled after Hermione. Harry took a deep calming breath. And then another. And one more. Breathing under control, Harry reached for his quill, only to find it snapped in half from its meeting with the table.
"Oh bloody hell!" he snarled, throwing he pieces away from him.
"Now, Potter, I don't know what the quill did to you, but I'm sure it doesn't deserve that treatment." Oh lovely, just who he wanted to see. Malfoy smirked at him, before nudging the pieces with his foot.
"Couldn't help noticing Weasel and the Mudblood leaving in a hurry. Was that your handiwork too?" Harry paid no attention, but instead opted for rummaging for another quill. Why did he keep so much junk in his bag? Still searching, Harry paid no attention to the words being spoken.
"Stupid mudbloods don't know when to keep their noses out..."
Malfoy blinked, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it with a snap. Then...
"Did you just say the word Mudblood, Potter? About your two best friends no less?" Harry froze. He had just said Mudblood, without thinking, without even caring. Even thirty seconds later, he still didn't feel guilty. A sudden calmness came over him, and he shrugged at Malfoy.
"They really pissed me off." He gave a slight smirk, before turning back to his rummaging. Malfoy was still staring at him.
"What?" The Slytherin just gaped at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning in concentration.
"Potter. You're Harry Potter. A Gryffindor. Chosen One, Boy-Who-Lived... et cetera, et cetera. The word Mudblood shouldn't even be in your dictionary, let alone everyday speech. Are you feeling okay?"
Still immersed in the strange calmness, Harry smiled at the blonde.
"I'm feeling fine, thank you. Better than I have done in a long time, if you're interested." Giving up the search, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the quill lying at Malfoy's feet. Summoning it, he lay it on the desk and muttered "Reparo", then watched as the pieces zoomed back together. Putting his wand away, he inspected it, then held it up towards Malfoy.
"Don't know why I didn't think of that five minutes ago." He chuckled. Noticing the blonde was still standing, he nudged out a chair with his foot.
"Care to join me?"
Malfoy looked surprised and started forward with a slight smile. Glancing over his shoulder, he froze, before his face fell into its usual condescending sneer.
"Well, if it isn't the Weasel and the Mudblood. Crawling back to Potter so soon? And why are you skulking around the bookcases, anyway?" Harry frowned, before rising and walking to stand beside Malfoy. Peering around the dusty shelves, Harry glared at the two red-faced Gryffindors.
"Did you want something?" he asked coldly. Ron blushed and ducked his head, but Hermione stood stepped out from her hiding place behind the shelves and said determinedly "We wanted to know whether you're going to apologise for being so rude to me." She said primly. Harry raised an eyebrow, and continued to glare at her. She frowned, and snapped "Well? Are you?!"
Harry snorted. "No, I'm not. So if that's all, then you're wasting my time being here. Bye." He turned to slip back to the table, before Hermione's shrill voice sounded again. "You won't last a week without us Harry!"
Stopping in his tracks, Harry turned slowly, his features cold enough to freeze fire.
"And what, exactly, do you think I need you for?" He questioned softly. Advancing slowly, he noted how Ron moved slightly behind Hermione, who was casually inching her hand towards her wand.
"I don't need you to hold my hand everywhere. I can live perfectly well without you following me around." Halting a foot away from the pair, he stared coldly into their eyes before saying, "You'll get no apology from me. Anything you need to know, I would have told you. Just because I'm known world-wide, does not give you, or anyone else, the right to know every, single detail of my life. I will not apologise. So I suggest you leave. Now."
Turning her nose up at Harry, Hernione turned on her heel, before storming off in a way that would have made Snape proud. Ron hesitated and opened his mouth to say something, before Hermione marched back, seized his arm, and dragged him off.
Laughing openly, Harry slipped back to his seat. Malfoy sat down weakly opposite him.
"I can't believe I just saw that..." he murmured. Harry collapsed into laughter at the stunned blonde, who after a moment, relaxed into the chair and joined in.