A/N: See responses to reviews in the reviews section. Here is chapter nine. I'm trying so hard to get this mostly finished before HBP, don't know how well I'll succeed though.

Warnings: Pg-13 for this chapter, cutting and language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making a profit off of this story.


Chapter 9: Debts

The night after the Hogsmeade visit, Harry decided to try out one of the spells in his new book. He didn't particularly feel like cutting, he just wanted to attempt one to see if it would work. And anyway, Harry no longer needed that huge a reason to hurt him himself. Anyway, it had become a habit and he'd even done it once out of sheer boredom. Harry pulled the bed curtains close and cast a silencing charm around his bed, although he didn't think that he would need it, it was so late that everyone was sound asleep. He busily read the quill spell by the light of his Lumos. He had been curious about this one ever since Umbridge had used it on him. It was rather difficult to see, especially as the words were written – not printed, but it looked basic enough – any of the first years probably could have managed it with some careful studying. Harry didn't know what to call the spell, as it was not titled and there were two separate verbal parts to the casting of it. In fact, Harry saw, flipping through the book, that none of the spells were titled and there was no table of contents, index, glossary of terms – the spells were just scattered willy-nilly throughout the book, not even sorted in terms of type or difficulty or alphabetized.

The first part of the spell involved turning the quill into a device that would draw blood when touched to a surface other than the skin. The second – and Harry saw, far more complicated – part of the spell was localizing it to ensure that it would cut the person who was doing the writing and not anyone else in the immediate area, also to make sure that it cut a specific part of the body – otherwise it could show up anywhere.

Harry took an old quill out of his bag which was setting on the bed beside him. After a few minutes of careful studying he whispered Cruento Inscriptio and made the required slashing motion over the quill with his wand. The quill turned dark black and Harry could have sworn that the tip sharpened a bit. Then he cast the localizing spell to his upper left arm with much less certainty that he had got it right.

Harry took a piece of parchment out of his bag and laid it on top of the closed book. He slowly made a long mark across the top of the parchment and felt the sharp pain – but not in the place he expected – on the back of his left hand.

"Oh bugger, I got the localizing spell wrong. Well, no matter, it will disappear after a moment."

Harry made another long cut, but this one appeared on a place next to the last instead of going over top of it, this confused Harry somewhat since Umbridge's quill had written the lines over top of each other. He made two more cuts across his hand and then got an idea. He made a mark across the bottom of the paper and, sure enough, it ended up on his upper arm. Apparently his localizing spell hadn't been local enough.

It was then that Harry realized that the marks on his hand had, for whatever reason not disappeared.


Harry was following young girls through the school's corridors. At least, the architecture looked vaguely like that of Hogwarts, although Harry did not know where he was. The girls were dressed in Hogwarts robes and walked slowly in a line. The corridor became ominously darker as he continued to follow them until Harry could barely see at all. At the end of the hall, they came to a doorway that looked somehow odd to Harry, though he couldn't put his finger on why. One of the girls reached her hand out to open the door and . . . "


Harry woke up the next morning, knowing that he had a strange dream that may have involved Voldemort because his scar ached dully. He sat still for a moment, trying to remember the dream. Then he heard his dorm mates getting ready for class around him.

"Oh hell! My HAND!"

Harry looked down at his hand and noted, miserably, that there were still four long cuts across it.

"How the hell am I going to explain this? Hermione will figure me out so quick!"

Harry thought fast.

"Okay, I could just skip classes for today and then sneak off to the library to see if I can look up a charm to hide the cuts. No, that won't work, I've already missed so much that Hermione will be sure to come up here and check on me. I could say that Hedwig clawed me up. . . but they don't really look like an owl did them and everyone knows that Hedwig is better behaved than that. Damn, why didn't they go away? Okay, I could try to keep my hands hidden. . . nah, I'd never pull that off. I could . . . QUIDITCH GLOVES!"

It was the answer. Players often wore minor pieces of Quiditch gear to classes to show team spirit or after their team had won a game and although it was against the dress code, the teachers seemed to have an unspoken agreement that students wouldn't be punished for displaying House spirit in this way. Of course, it would seem a little suspicious on Harry since he had never done it before, and since Gryffindor lost the last game and he was going to quit the team, but even Hermione would never guess his real reason for wearing the gloves. He wouldn't have to take them off to do magic either. Seeker's gloves were much less cumbersome than gloves for the rest of the team. Luckily, Harry (being upset) had worn his Quiditch gear up to his room after the last game and had neglected to take it back down to the change room.

Harry got out of bed and began rifling through his trunk, careful to keep his left hand hidden.


"Harry, why are you wearing those gloves?" Hermione, predictably asked him before Defense class.

"Oh, I thought that I would show a little support for the team. You know, so they would know that I don't actually hate them or anything."

Hermione seemed to buy that and looked at Harry sympathetically. "Harry, I don't think that Ron is really all that mad at you anymore, I'm sure that if you made the first move to make up with him . . . "

"Did you hear about anything odd happening last night, Hermione?" Harry interrupted.

"No. Why?"

"I think that I may have had a. . . . dream last night. About the school, but I can't really remember it at all."

"Really?" Hermione looked concerned. "Well, I haven't heard anything."


Ron was at the next D.A. meeting. Harry gave his friend a tentative smile, but Ron merely rolled his eyes and looked away.

After class, however, Ron came up to him and began talking.

"You remember at the beginning of the year, when we said we were going to keep an eye on all the Death Eater's kids?" Ron asked shortly.

"Yeah," Harry said, thinking about what a stupid idea that was.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I saw that Snape kid talking alone with Malfoy. It just seemed kind of odd to me since they are in different Houses and way different years."

Harry frowned. "Well, that is weird. But if Snape is a spy or whatever, then Caydon would have to at least pretend to like Malfoy, wouldn't he?"

Ron looked as though the wind had been taking out of his sails. "I guess," he said, "it was really suspicious though. See you at Quiditch practice tomorrow."

"What do you mean? We'll see each other before that?"

Ron looked at Harry coldly and walked away.

"I guess he's still mad at me, even if he did talk to me."

Harry looked around the Defense classroom.

"Something seems different about today. . ."

Harry felt like he had forgotten to do something. He straightened up the classroom absent-mindedly.

"Caydon. . . he didn't stay after D.A. today. And he always does. Oh, bugger, I hope that he didn't hear Ron talking about him and then get offended or something."

When Harry went back up to the Gryffindor common room, he found Caydon sitting alone, apparently studying. Harry sat down beside the boy to talk.

"Hey, Caydon."

"Oh, hello Harry," Caydon said, a bit distantly.

"So are you mad at me too?" Harry asked, half jokingly.

"What? No. Why would you ask that?"

"You didn't stay after D.A. like you always do."

"Oh, that. I'm not angry with you, well, maybe just a little bit, but that's not why I didn't stay."

"Why then?"

"Well, you know last lesson, you stopped that boy from putting that scorpion thing down my back?"

"Yes. Didn't you want me too?"

"Well, no. They got really mad at me and then they told a bunch of people that it was my fault that you gave us that boring lesson because I had to whine and you heard me."

"What was I supposed to do? Let the brat do that while I was supposed to be in charge?"

"No. . . . I just thought that if I stayed after and they knew about it then it would be one more reason for them to call me a suck up or a teacher's pet."

"Oh, okay. So you're not mad at me for any other reason?"

"Why else would I be mad at you?"

"Because Ron and I had a conversation in which we might have implied that you are up to something with Malfoy and I'm afraid that you overheard."

"I. . . um . . . " Harry sputtered as Caydon looked at him expectantly, "I sort of went ballistic on your father the other day . . . "

"Oh, well I didn't know about that? What about?"

"I don't know, I was just being stupid, I reckon. He was actually pretty cool about it though."

"Then why would I be angry about it? In fact, how would I even know about it?" Caydon raised an eyebrow.

Harry evaded the question. "I don't know why he was so cool about it actually . . . I mean, no offense or anything but he's been really hard on me about doing a lot less than that."

Caydon shook his head. "He probably thought that he owed you."

"What? Owed me for what?"

"I. . .er . . . I sort of told him that you had been really nice to me. He has this . . . thing . . . about repaying debts."

"But I'm not nice to you. I mean I am, but I just treat you like I would anyone else."

"Not everyone does, you know."

"Hm. So what, now he thinks he has to be nice to me?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. But he might think that he owes you one break. Seemed kind of annoyed about it, actually."

That certainly explained a lot, he would have found it exceedingly odd if Snape had suddenly turned nice for no reason. Not that he had even been all that nice to Harry, just decent, like . . . "

"Like he would treat anyone else . . . "

Still though, Snape bringing him a pillow to lay his head on and covering him with a blanket when he fell asleep seemed a bit much. Harry suspected that there were multiple motives involved, just like he suspected that some small part of Snape had been getting his jollies by watching Sirius die, even if his primary motivation was to teach Harry Occlumency.


Harry looked for a charm to hide the marks on his hands, but he really didn't have time to search thoroughly, he had a ton of homework. The next day, he was still stuck wearing his gloves. He was so busy searching after classes the next day that he ended up being late for Occlumency.

"Six minutes, six points, Potter," Snape said as he walked in. Harry rolled his eyes. The git could have just taken off five points. What could the difference be between five and six minutes?

"Yes, sir," Harry said, "how many points did you take for . . . you know, last time," said Harry who was fairly sure from what Snape had said last time that he was going to take points.

"Thirty," said Snape shortly.

"Well, thirty isn't so bad. He could have very easily gone for fifty. I called him a bastard."

"Okay," Harry said.

"So glad you approve, Potter," Snape said sarcastically, "Legil – Potter, take those ridiculous things off at once."

"What?" Harry asked, and then noticed with a sinking feeling that Snape was looking at his gloves.

"Damn it! I should have known that he wouldn't let me wear Gryffindor Seeker's gloves. He didn't notice them in Potions, though."

"Sir, I don't . . . I don't want to."

Snape sneered. "You will not wear those things when you are receiving instruction from me. Take them off!"

"Sure . . . it's just I forgot my wand up in my room, I'll go get it . . . "

"You won't be needing your wand today."

"Oh, right. Then . . . I'll just . . . I, um."

"Accio Potter's gloves."

Harry quickly closed his hands into fists, but the gloves wriggled off anyway and flew into Snape's grasp. Harry wanted nothing more than to whip his hand behind his back, but he knew if he did this then Snape would know that he didn't want it to be seen. He surreptitiously turned the back of his hand toward him, hoping that Snape wouldn't notice.

Snape however, seemed to be perfectly aware that something was up. He grabbed both of Harry's hands and almost immediately saw the four long, precise cuts. He looked at Harry in surprise, but (Harry thought) knowingly.

"Hermione's cat, Crookshanks," he tried to laugh it off, "such a vicious animal. Embarrassing, really . . . "

Snape said nothing, but grabbed Harry's chin roughly, jerked his head upward and looked directly in his eyes.

"Close your eyes. Can't let him see. Don't think about cutting, think about cats."

Harry knew, however, that his self hurting must be written across his thoughts right now as clearly as if it were in big, bold letters.

Snape let go of Harry's face Harry looked at the ground. Then, his eyes never leaving Harry's face, he grabbed Harry's arm. Harry tried to yank it away, but Snape gripped him so hard that he thought his arm would bruise. Still looking at Harry's face, intensely, Snape ripped his shirt sleeve open and pushed it up Harry's arm.


A/N: I have pretty much this whole story planned out, and I don't usually write stories based on suggestions. However, one thing that I have yet to figure out is how (or even if) Hermione and Ron should find out about Harry's cutting, anyone got any ideas? Note: A scene like this one isn't planned for a long time, but I need to start working it out.

Coming Soon: Snape's reaction. Something bad happens to Caydon. Caydon and Snape (gasp) are actually in a scene together.