A/N: *Squee* Thanks for the reviews guys! Since I am in a good mood, I'll let y'all have another chapter today. As usual, warnings and disclaimers are in chapter 1.

By the way, might I remind you that I am a ninja, and therefore prone to do things you least expect. So don't let anything worry you! It just might turn out differently in the end. *winks and laughs mysteriously*

Oh yes, and a small surprise next chapter! Well, I think it is a surprise, anyways. 'Course, I'm told I'm rather insane too...Okay, I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!


Some see it coming

Some let it pass

Just like a monster

Behind a mask

Consciously or unconsciously,

Wanted or unwanted,

Words heard can destroy your life…

Words can be empty husks…

Words can hurt and words can destroy.

It takes more, more than just a smile

This cuts, cuts you like a knife

To get, get into your head

How people really deal with words

They're still talking in the dark

This is tearing me apart

Just try, to tell me what you mean

And what you really think of me.

Words can hurt…

Words can hurt.

Cuts Like A Knife by Crushead

This. Was. Torture!

Harry found himself regretting his lashing out at Snape. Regretting it, only because of the dull pain in his lower back, as well as the awkward silence that pervaded the room. Snape had not left the room for one second, instead grading papers (more like rewriting the essays or destroying the authors' content than actually grading), or glaring at Harry's back.

Harry could feel the hatred and fury radiating from the Professor, and though Snape had not said a word to him, Harry could only imagine what the greasy old bat would have to say. No doubt he would throw in some crap about his father as well.

He fought back another groan, as his arms continued to burn, and sweat dripped off his brow.

Note to self: never piss off Snape.

Finally, after an eternity, Harry looked up from his job, to see that all the cauldrons had been scoured, by hand. Seemingly an easy task, given his expertise in housework, courtesy of the Dursleys. Au contraire. His back hurt, his arms hurt, his hands were a funny mix of white and red, and he swore he could feel the blisters coming on. At least he was done. Now, all he had to do was get Snape to approve of them, and he could be off.

The Potions Master carefully inspected each cauldron, impressed, though he would have vehemently denied it. "I never would have thought it of you, Potter," he said grudgingly, "But it looks like you can at least do a decent job of cleaning. I suppose you may hurry along now."

Gee thanks, Harry thought sarcastically, but, having learned his lesson, and not wanting to push the man farther, he grabbed his things and took off.

•••

"I thought you promised not to hurt yourself again!"

Harry shot Draco a confused glance. He'd run into the Slytherin – well, the boy had been waiting for him – on his way back from the Potions classroom. "What do you mean?"

Draco huffed. "You must have a death wish, Harry…pushing Severus like that." Harry's face was bewildered as Draco addressed Snape by his first name. Draco kept speaking. "It's madness! Not even I could push him and get away with it…and I'm his godson!"

"What?"

A smirk spread across Draco's face. Harry was so amusing when he was shocked. "I. Am. Snape's. Godson," he repeated slowly.

"Eugh, why?"

"Because the instant I was born, I decided to choose Severus, out of all people. I almost chose Dumbledore, you know." The blonde's tone was sarcastic. "Because my parents decided to name him my godfather, duh! He and my father were best friends once."

Harry grimaced. "No wonder he favors you more," he sighed. "Stupid prat." Draco grinned.

"And proud of it," he retorted. "Anyways, don't cross Severus like that again. If you wish to live another day…avoid his wrath."

"Yeah. I don't want to drown in whatever it is he washes his hair with," Harry snorted. Draco fought back a chuckle, instead, fixing Harry with a mock glare.

"I meant it."

"Fine." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll try. But he gets annoyed with pretty much anything I do."

"So stop doing anything." Harry smacked his shoulder, and Draco laughed.

"It's getting late, and curfew is in a few minutes," Harry pointed out. His friend sniffed.

"Prefect, remember? I'm doing my rounds right now. Come on. I'll walk you back to your dorms, so you don't get in trouble."

Harry grinned, and the two boys headed back to the Gryffindor tower, where they bid each other goodnight, Harry slipping into the common room afterwards. It was empty, which was good. He didn't need anymore crap from Hermione and Ron.

Thankfully, the dormitory was quiet, and everyone was asleep when Harry snuck in. He was able to throw on his pjs and slip into his bed, without anyone stirring. He was asleep in moments, with no nightmares to plague him.

•••

The next morning found Harry walking down to the Great Hall alone. Ron had not said a word to him that morning, which was unusual. Probably from Harry's reaction the day before. But Harry didn't care. The redhead never really stayed mad for long. He'd be back by lunchtime.

Oh, how Harry hated being wrong.

Lunch had just finished, and a quiet lunch it had been, for Harry at least. Ron had steadfastly ignored him, instead speaking solely with Hermione, or his sister, or to another Gryffindor. But not Harry. Hermione had shot a few sorrowful, if a bit disapproving glances at Harry, but she hadn't tried to speak with Harry either, instead leaving Harry to eat a quiet lunch.

It was afterwards that Harry wished he'd been right, just this once.

He was walking down the hallways, when he heard Ron's voice call out behind him. "Harry."

He turned, to see his redhead friend coming towards him, a stony expression upon his face. "Yes, Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly. Ron paused in front of Harry, his arms at his sides. The boy was still for a moment, his chest heaving with an emotion Harry couldn't place…

Oh. It was anger.

Harry grasped his jaw, where Ron had slugged him. Hard. "What the bloody hell was that for?" Harry shouted. Ron's face was now drawn up in anger.

"You are so selfish! All Hermione and I try to do is be understanding friends! But do you ever thank us? No! How do you repay us? With harsh words and nothing more than a passing glance!"

Harry eyed Ron with disbelief. "I'm the selfish one?" he asked, hurt. Ron seemed to feel as though Harry was mocking him, because he got close up, in-your-face kind of close.

"And not once have you come and apologized. You made Hermione cry yesterday, because of you and your stupid mouth! Get off your high horse, Harry. Just because you're the bloody Golden Boy doesn't give you an excuse to go insulting and mocking your friends!"

Once again, Harry's vision was filled with stars, and he was knocked back into the wall. "What is your problem?" he shouted in rage. There was no way Ron was this upset over one incident! But Ron wasn't explaining himself. No, he was rearing back for another punch. This time, Harry dodged, and Ron's fist connected with the wall. There was a crunch, and Ron howled in pain.

Harry had been hoping this would bring the other to his senses, but it was futile. The redhead did an impressive job impersonating an erupting volcano, as he roared out his pain and fury. With that, he began to throw punches at Harry, attempting to land as many blows as possible. Harry managed to dodge most of them, and return a few of his own.

It wasn't long before the two boys were rolling around on the floor, wands completely forgotten in the chaos of kicks, hooks, and jabs. By now, a crowd had started to gather, as Ron began to get the upper hand, pummeling Harry into a corner.

Dazed, Harry began to lose focus, and he imagined for a moment that it was his uncle, beating him up once more, and he began to whimper. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'll be a good boy…I promise," he whimpered, curling up into a ball, his head protected by his arms.

No one seemed to notice this. No one, except Draco and his posse, who had been drawn by the commotion. In an instant, Draco guessed why Harry was curled into a fetal position, and just letting the blows fall on his otherwise unprotected body. "Crabbe, Goyle," he snapped. The two buffoons stepped forward, and dragged Ron off of Harry, who was curled into a ball and rocking back and forth slightly. Draco then stepped forward, and shot a few of his glares at the staring crowd. Not wanting to find out what that glare held, the crowd began to disperse.

Draco then dropped down to Harry's side. "Harry?" he asked gently, but the boy was too distraught to register the warm voice. Draco sighed, and tentatively gather the boy into his arms, hugging him against his chest.

Harry, feeling the familiar panic set in, began to cry out. "No!" he screeched, struggling to get free. "No please! Not tonight! Not tonight!"

Horror crept over Draco, as he considered the hidden meaning behind Harry's cries. "Shh, Harry, it's alright. It's just me. It's Draco," he crooned in a soothing voice, trying not to let his horror reflect in his voice. The Muggles had not treated Harry like the hero he was born to be…no, they had treated him worse. Much worse. Draco had sorely mistaken Harry's upbringing. "Harry…it's okay. You're okay…"

In the background, he dimly heard Weasley thrashing, fighting against Goyle and Crabbe's grip on his shoulders, but it was useless. Draco shot a glare over his shoulder at Weasley, and snarled, "See what you've done! Call him your best friend, you will, yet beat him up when you feel angry. You sicken me, Weasley. You sicken more than Granger does." He spat at Weasley, before turning back to Harry.

"D-Draco?"

The voice was feeble, nervous. Draco's heart felt like it would break from the sheer hurt and fear there was in his name, spoken by Harry just now. "Shh…I'm here. I'm not going to let you go. I'm right here, Harry…"

"Draco…don't let me go…don't let my uncle get me…please…I'll be a good boy…just don't let him get me…"

Harry's sobs shook his thin frame. With a pang, Draco noticed just how thin Harry was. "I won't," he promised, holding Harry tightly. He knew what it was like to desire contact with another human. From his own past, he knew the pain of not having anyone. He wanted to be there for his friend. He cared about Harry, he realized. Cared for his friend. Something that was difficult to admit.

Harry continued to shake, his sobs subsiding, but his body still trembling. From shock, no doubt. "Come on, Harry, let's take you to Madame Pomfrey," Draco said gently. To his surprise, Harry shook his head no.

"No…she can't know…or he said he'll punish me. If I tell, he'll punish me…he'll punish me…" Harry kept chanting that last phrase over and over again. Draco felt fear for Harry.

"Well, then, I'll take you to Professor Snape. He won't tell a soul," he reassured the boy in his arms. Receiving no protest from Harry – which showed how distressed he was, seeing as how he normally would have protested – Draco stood, letting the other boy lean on him for support. With another deadly glare towards Weasley, and a short, "Watch him," to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco began to walk with Harry towards the Potions classroom, where he knew Snape was using his free period to grade papers, as usual. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise all surrounded him with somber expression, and Blaise came around to the other side of Harry, supporting him gingerly. Draco gave him a grateful, if confused, glance, not knowing about the truce between Harry and his friends yet.

•••

"What has Potter been doing this time?" Severus growled, not looking at all sorry to see Harry's bruised form. Harry was currently unconscious, having passed out from the pain a few minutes earlier. Pansy, Blaise, and Theo were waiting outside, for the moment.

Draco shot him a glare. "Weasley beat him up," he snapped. "And you could show a little concern, you know."

Severus grimaced, but his glare did give way to a little bit of concern, when he noticed Draco's expression. "There's more than being beaten up that's wrong with Potter, isn't there?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "He seems to be reliving some memory…" he began cautiously. Severus made a motion for him to continue. Oh, Harry won't be happy about me telling Severus…but if it'll help… "The Muggles who raised him, sir, they…they…" He gulped, feeling like he was going to be sick. "They raped him," he said in a quiet voice. Severus' eyes widened, though he tried to remain impassive. "Harry must've been beaten during such a time…and I guess he began to relive one such memory…He kept promising to be good…Merlin!"

Severus dashed forward and supported Potter's limp form, as Draco suddenly turned to the side and emptied his stomach. After he had finished, he wiped his mouth shakily. "My father was bad, but he…he never raped me," he whispered in revulsion. Severus nodded grimly.

"It appears as though we…I had the wrong impression about Mr. Potter," he admitted grudgingly, feeling a pang of guilt. But soon, he was waving his wand at Potter, levitating the boy onto an empty table.

"Why did you choose to find me, rather than take him to the infirmary?" he asked. Draco shrugged.

"Harry was rather…upset. Apparently his uncle told him that if he ever told, he would punish Harry. I promised him that you wouldn't tell anyone." Draco gave Severus a pleading glance, and the older man sighed and nodded.

"I won't," he promised.

With that, he began to cast some spells over Harry, healing the bruises and cuts, as well as inspecting for any internal damage. Unknown to Draco, he also cast a few extra spells, checking for any damage…down there. He wasn't surprised to learn that Potter had some scarring, but the extent of it was…horrific. "Draco, please leave the room for a few minutes," Severus ordered. His godson look about to protest, but decided against it at the last minute. Once Potter and Severus were alone, the Professor removed Potter's clothes, casting a spell over him first, to keep him unconscious.

Severus then set about to the difficult task of healing whatever damage the muggles had inflicted on Harry. He fought the urge to flinch as he saw the scars all over Harry's body, some old, and some more recent. It was brutal, the things they must have done to the boy. Within a fairly decent amount of time, he was finished, having healed the majority of the damage. He then set about dressing the boy again. He was just pulling on Potter's shirt, when he noticed a faux aura about the boy's arm.

A glamour charm. Hiding what?

With a murmured spell, the glamour charm was lifted, to reveal a network of scars spanning the otherwise smooth flesh of Potter's arm. Severus bit back a gasp. So the despair that had inspired Potter to overdose on Sleeping Potions had been going on for sometime. And, by the looks of it, still continued. And none of them had seen it. Severus pursed his lips, but placed the glamour charm back over Potter's arm.

He would definitely speak to the boy about this later. But, for now…

"Draco!"

His godson appeared almost instantly. A few words were exchanged, and Draco was soon walking off, a groggy Harry Potter leaning heavily on him and Blaise.