AN: Oh dear crap XP I'm sooooo sorry
With school starting, a new job, and dozens of random issues this has taken so long to get out. I apologize SO MUCH!
I know nothing will ever suffice, but here's the next chapter XP
I promise to finish this story no matter what, even if it does take some time.
To LM Ryder, I'm really sorry, but I don't have it in me to do bashing on anyone other character(s) than the Dursleys… I love them too much XP As for the rest of it, I shall try my best to appease you :D
TeaAndCrumpetsIfYouPlease, I hope this chapter answers some of your questions
Deadwinds, Torry-Riddle, Hope06, Thatsallwegot, omgitskirby, Thank you so much for your comments! They are much appreciated!
And to anyone else out there still reading, previously commented, or anything, THANK YOU FOR VIEWING AND I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!
Quick note: I had to change some of the timing of the events of the book to suit this chapter, for those of you who pay attention to the details like that.
Disclaimer: I own nothing; all rights belong to JK Rowling and Warner… and stuff
Warning: This chapter is completely non-graphic. Talk of abuse and non-con/rape
-Chapter Six-
-=Bad Dreams and Hospital Beds=-
Dumbledore poured himself a very large glass of dark liquid; brandy by Snape's assumption.
For the first few minutes, all three adults sat quietly, one sipping a numbing drink, one squeezing her hands tightly, causing them to turn white, and the third silently fuming.
Minerva was the first to speak.
"What do we do with him?" She asked, looking to the headmaster. "We can't let him go back to that place."
Snape didn't even bother sneering at her, just nodded.
"We won't need to worry about his housing situation so soon. He has months before the end of the school year. We need to worry about his… health first."
"Should we take him to Saint Mungo's?" Minerva asked. Her expression disagreed with her statement, though.
"No, that would only lead to further problems." The eldest wizard sighed.
"Perhaps we should just keep things normal for him." Snape added after a few moments of silence. "Obviously taking care to speak with him time to time, and require of him checkups in the hospital wing."
"But how could we act like nothing happened?" Minerva asked. "He needs to talk about it."
Dumbledore shook his head. As good as the deputy headmistress' intentions were, they seemed to lead in the opposite direction.
"If we make such a big deal of it, Harry will only feel worse."
"But we can't let him go about this alone!"
"Then would you speak to him?" Snape asked her. "Are you willing to listen as he tells you what has happened?"
For a moment, McGonagall's face seemed to match the green of her robes. "If that is what takes for him to get better, then I will."
Though he may not like the Gryffindor attitude of 'bravery', the way they looked after their own was something Severus admired; though he would never say so aloud.
"I think it would be most beneficial to let him speak to whichever teacher he wished." Dumbledore finally interjected. "Let him find the one he is most comfortable with?"
The other two nodded.
Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Then so be it. Severus, a moment?" The headmaster asked as the two teachers rose from their seats.
Minerva gave a slight bow of her head before she left the pair in the office.
"I think it would be best if you kept an eye on him…" Dumbledore said slowly, gauging the potion master's minimal reactions.
"If I may, sir." Severus said tightly. "I do not think it would be best for me to be the one to observe him.
I admit that I am… conflicted with my attitudes towards the boy. I am not sure I could keep my bias in check…"
A small smile crossed the old man's face. "That is precisely why I would like for you to watch him. You will not look at him like he is a victim, and see his every action as a consequence of these unfortunate events. I trust that you would see him for what he still is; a boy with different problems than some of the other students."
Severus had to hand it to the headmaster, he always thought these things out well.
"I will watch him," he sighed, a little more irritation lining his words than he meant. "But I do not intend to get any further into his business than I already have. I fear that I have given the child a false belief that I care for him." He turned from the desk.
"You don't?" The older man asked, leaning forward in his chair to get the nearly empty cup.
"I was just doing things the other teachers hadn't the time or attention for. Even if he is a troublesome child, I would not leave anyone to suffer like that." He replied quietly, then left the room before the other wizard could reply.
As the door shut, Dumbledore smiled and sipped the last of his drink. Even if Severus saw his actions as mechanically necessary, there would have to have been heart behind them to have acted himself and not pushed the responsibility off onto another teacher.
Harry's absence in the common room that night went fairly unnoticed. By fairly, three redheaded boys and one bushy haired girl sat on the couches in front of the fire, glancing hopefully at the picture frame. When the rest of the students made their way to their beds, the four worried students remained.
"Maybe he's sick or something?" Hermione said, gathering what few assignments she had finished and holding them against her chest. "I… I think we should go to bed. There's no sense in all of us being so tired we can't visit him tomorrow…" The expression she wore, however, betrayed her words.
With that, Hermione left the common room, walking slowly; she glanced once back to the picture frame, then disappeared from sight.
"Come on, Ron," Fred sighed, hefting himself up. "It won't help to have you stay here all night…"
Ron nodded silently, standing as well.
Fred and George shared a small glance.
The twins were notorious for knowing what the other was thinking without saying anything. Often they finished each other's sentences. So the small glances or gestures they shared never found their way to anyone's attention.
"Since when are you so quiet?" George asked, shaking his brother's shoulder lightly.
The youngest Weasley boy finally looked up. He was trying so hard to hold back the tears. His nose had turned red, and his bottom lip quivered.
Fred and George used to make fun of Ron for crying. When they were younger, Ron was actually a crybaby. It was usually a lot of fun teasing him, and afterwards they would comfort him in a casual way, distracting their baby brother. Hell, they still teased him, but it had been a few years since he'd looked this upset.
"Ron," Fred kneeled in front of the youngest. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I know why Harry isn't here…" He finally whispered, his voice cracking.
"It's probably just an accident. You know he's prone to getting in trouble…" George added.
"Not this time…" Ron met their eyes. He wiped his eyes vigorously. "How was I supposed to know? How did he hide it that well?"
"Hide what?" George asked softly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"His relatives… the muggles he lives with…" Ron sniffed, "They were hitting him and stuff. His uncle broke his wrist… and there was a note and I think Snape knows because he was talking to him and that's where Harry was and…"
"Calm down," Fred said sharply. "Deep breaths, ok?"
The younger boy nodded his head, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robe and breathed in and out slowly.
"Now what about Snape knowing?"
"I gave Snape a note that Harry wrote… and I don't know if the note was true or not but… Harry hasn't been back since and I think it must have been true."
George hesitated.
Part of him wanted to know what was on the note; if it was serious enough for the Dungeon Master to take Harry, a Gryffindor and the most hated student, then it must have been…
But part of him felt that it was sick to find out something so personal.
Fred made the decision for him. "What did the note say?"
Ron shook his head, his face suddenly turning green. "Just stuff about how life was at his… those people's house."
There was a long silence, and only the crackle of the dying fire in the fireplace could be heard.
"If the Proffesor has him, then he's being taken care of…" George said.
Fred nodded, "He will be fine with the adults helping."
Ron sighed, but nodded.
"Come on, let's go to bed."
The three somber brothers made their way up the stairs, each to a non-inviting bed and a troubled sleep.
Harry woke to a very uncomfortable feeling; the sheets on his bed were wet. When he realized what had happened, he jumped up, only to realize he wasn't even in his dorm.
He looked around the empty room. He was in the bed next to Madam Pomfrey's office, a secluded room.
At least he had that much.
He looked around for extra clothes, blankets, but the room only held the bed and a small stand.
A soft knock on the door caused the boy to freeze.
"D-don't come in!" Harry shouted, pulling the blankets together to try to hide his accident.
A few unbidden memories surfaced, his uncle finding him at one point after a similar accident and shoving him into the bathroom. That was only a few days after…
"Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she opened the door.
The dark haired boy froze, staring wide eyed at her. He dropped the blankets from his hands. "I, uh…" He thought frantically of an excuse, anything would do.
She shook her head, her face impassive as she pushed him towards the other door in the room. "Just change, dear…"
Harry frowned, "Into what?"
She smiled slightly and pointed to the clothes on the counter. "Take a shower, though." Before he could say anything else, she shut the door and left.
Thankful that she didn't make a big deal about it, Harry stripped the clothes from his body, turned the water on as hot as he could, then scrubbed his entire body down.
When Harry finished, dressed in a very new pair of robes, he walked from the bathroom, trying to smooth his hair down some. No amount of flattening helped, though.
"Oh, Harry dear," she said, bustling towards the side table to set a tray of potions down.
Harry eyed it warily.
"Oh, don't worry dear," she laughed slightly. "You only need to take these." She held out two smaller vials. "The rest are for the other students."
Harry took them, setting on the new bed linens. "How many people… know that I'm here?" He asked.
The medi-witch sighed lightly, patting his shoulder. "You shouldn't worry so much about what others are thinking, child."
Harry scoffed, nearly coughing out the first potion as he tried to drink it. "It's the paper I'm worried about," he said, after clearing his throat.
She shook her head, taking the empty potion bottle. "What will be explained is you had the 24 hour muggle flu. Just needed to keep you isolated long enough, as many of the students haven't had it."
More lies Harry had to remember, but he shrugged it off for the moment.
"About what I said…" he started, and she shook her head. "Not now. That is something you need to talk about with the headmaster, Harry."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, drinking the second one.
"This doesn't all have to come out at once." She finally said, looking the boy in the eyes. "You have the rest of the school year here to be comfortable, to relax. You can talk to us at your pace, and only if you want to."
"What happens… at the end of the school year I mean?" Harry asked as he rubbed his arm.
"That will be between you and the headmaster as well, Harry." She said, picking up a rather small pot of putrid smelling paste. "Now, do you think you could take your shirt off for me?" She asked.
"What?" The sudden question surprised him.
"I need to make sure the open wounds heal. There may be a few remaining scars, but they shouldn't be too visible."
He nodded, slowly slipping the robes and shirt off. "Um, how did you know what size I wear?" Harry asked, laying them on the bed.
"It was a guess, really. You are getting so tall," she smiled lightly, motioning him to turn around. He didn't see her smile falter, though, thankfully. She held a sigh in, wanting nothing more than to grab the child and hug him, but knowing that the best course of action was to act as if he would be ok. To let him own his scars, to let him heal and hurt from it, no matter how much she wanted to make it all go away.
She applied the salve, and much to Harry's surprise it relieved the pain almost instantly.
"If you think you can do it, I will need you to apply this twice a day. Definitely after you bathe, as it needs to be cleaned, either in the morning or the evening. The second time will be opposite in the day of your shower…" she said, and the overly think boy nodded.
"Also," she said, placing the small pot onto the bed, "I would like for you to eat more." She said. "Even if it's a little more each day, I expect you to gain some weight, Mr. Potter."
Harry nodded, slipping his clothes back on. The salve had seemingly evaporated, as his shirt didn't stick to his back, and the smell was gone as well.
"It should be better in the next two or three weeks, depending on your state of health." She said, picking the tray back up.
"My state of health?" Harry asked.
"If you are eating right, sleeping well, and do not get sick." She replied, walking to the door.
"Again," He gave a smile, and she gave a short laugh. "Yes, again. Now, you may go back to the main hall, as breakfast should be starting soon. If you have any problems, feel free to talk to one of your teachers, Harry. You may come here, if you wish, too."
The teen nodded.
"I'll have this taken to your dorms and put in your trunk," She said, then walked out of the room.
Breakfast was no small event. Both Ron and Hermione bombarded him with questions, and neither seemed satisfied with the answers. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall announced that the teachers would be in the halls for the students to go to their classes, and the students all stood, heading towards their destinations.
Harry was slightly pleased that he had DADA first thing that morning. Even if his day wasn't going well, Professor Lupin always kept things interesting enough to draw his mind off anything else.
On the way to the class, Hermione seemed to have vanished. Ron shrugged it off, saying she did it often lately and was probably on her way to the library to check out more books.
Harry laughed, agreeing with him.
Oliver Wood stopped him in the hall suddenly. "There you are!" He exclaimed, grabbing Harry's shoulder. "Why haven't you been to practice? We have to play Hufflepuff this weekend!"
Harry froze; he'd completely forgotten about Quidditch. "I was, uh, really sick…" he replied, hoping that Oliver would believe him (and calm down a little. Poor Oliver looked like he was about to explode!)
"You're well enough to play this weekend, right?" He asked fervently as the students thinned out and the teachers were telling them to hurry.
"Of course!" Harry replied, glancing around. "I really have to get to class…"
Wood sighed, but let him go and trudged to his first class.
Harry, though, ran. He was glad he had DADA first thing that morning, as Professor Lupin never gave his students detention for being late.
When he threw the door open and began apologizing, he froze.
Professor Snape sat at the teacher's desk, staring at him with a cold glare.
"The class began ten minutes ago," he said, standing from the desk. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry groaned inwardly, but took his seat.
That class, and the classes for the next few days, went by uneventfully.
Harry began feeling better, the events of the hospital wing slowly fading as if they had never really happened.
Besides a few concerning stares from the Transfiguration's Professor, it really did seem like a dream.
Practice the night before the Quidditch match was just what he needed. Harry had forgotten the freedom and overall amazing feeling he got. Though he strayed from Wood's practice calls every once in awhile, he did well. Not even the incessant raining did anything to dampen the feeling.
When Harry went to bed that night after a hot shower, he fell asleep almost immediately.
When Harry woke it was still dark. He wasn't sure if the storm had woke him, or the nightmare.
Neither were contributing to a good morning, however.
When he looked at his wristwatch, it read four in the morning.
He groaned, not wanting to go back to sleep, so he left the warm covers of his bed and headed down the stairs.
Not only had Professor Snape assigned a long essay for his potion's class, but he had assigned a long one for DADA as well. So for the next three hours he set about finishing them.
When other students began coming down the stairs, he packed the parchments up and changed, ready for the match with Hufflepuff.
Madam Pomfrey was angry.
No, scratch that. She was beyond angry. Excusing Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick (as neither of them knew about Harry's recent visit to the hospital wing), none of the other teachers had remembered that Harry was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team until they all stood out there in the rain watching him fly his broom.
If she had remembered, she would have banned him.
Now, due to their negligence, Harry Potter lay in a hospital bed for the second time that week.
As much as she wanted to yell at him, she didn't. Not with how things had been going so far.
She just wanted to keep him overnight, claiming she needed to watch for a concussion or other injuries that hadn't made themselves known yet.
In truth, however, she was worried about him. He hadn't talked to anyone yet, and though it had barely been a few days, she felt the urge to make him talk and open up.
Just as she was about to approach him, however, Professor Lupin came in.
"I heard you had quite a fall." He smiled.
Harry noted the man's pale face and the bags underneath his eyes. "It's nice to see you," He pulled himself into a sitting position. "I'm sure the rest of the DADA class feels the same," he laughed.
Lupin gave a smile. "I've heard Professor Snape has been giving you a hard time in my absence."
"A large essay's worth." The boy replied. "Are you feeling well now?"
"Better," Lupin admitted, sitting in the chair beside Harry's cot. "What happened with you today?"
"You weren't there?"
"Still in my room, unfortunately." He replied.
Harry nodded his understanding.
"I heard the dementors were within school bounds." Lupin said carefully. "I take it that was the cause for your fall?"
Harry nodded, his legs automatically pulling closer to his body as he clenched the covers in his hands.
"No more visitors," Madam Pomfrey said, noticing the boy's defenses kicking in.
It was probably too soon to talk to him.
Lupin smiled, patting Harry's knee as he stood. "Shall we discuss this on Monday?" He asked.
"Why not tomorrow?" The young wizard asked.
"Ah," Lupin sighed. "I think it was too early for me to have left my bed. I think I'll have to rest all day tomorrow, now."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault." Lupin smiled again. "It was my own decision. I'll see you Monday."
"Good night, professor." Harry said as he watched the DADA teacher leave.
Madam Pomfrey checked Harry one last time, then ordered him to drink a potion and sleep.
Harry obeyed, and without much effort afterwards, fell into a dreamless sleep.
So, I hope that pleases you guys. Please comment if you so feel, and let me know what you think!
